I love big boys. Especially this one. Here we are, how I imagine Simon as a partner. Lighthearted version. (Also a tiny lil bit of smut, minors beware.)
-The Ghost that everyone knows, greatly differs from the Ghost you know. What is a lone wolf asshole to everyone else- is a clingy pup, Velcro boyfriend to you. He’d never admit it, but you bring out the part of him that he thought he lost as a kid. The part only those he trusts the most get to see. Vulnerable and trusting.
-While he is known for his stern, unyielding attitude, one “please, Simon…” from you and he’s a molten puddle of man on the floor. Anything you want, whenever you want it, he can’t say no, damnit. A lieutenant gone soft. The whole team knows you’re the secret weapon against Simon’s unshakable demeanour.
-Drives you everywhere. And picks you up right where he left you when you’re done. No discussions. Your man is always on top of your safety. If he’s away working, he’ll arrange for your rides without fail, every time.
-Workouts and the gym for him were always just work related activities. Not to look good, but to perform to his best ability in the field, he never thought twice about it. But when you started admiring his broad shoulders, his toned back, his giant arms…he caught himself starting to think of you and your praise whenever he hit the gym. How your hands always rest on his bicep when you’re walking. And before he knew it, he was upping the weight in his exercises.
-He knows he’s big. And he loves using it to his advantage, towering over men who approach you, not even saying anything. His presence does the talking. Watching them scurry away is the highlight of his day, even though he’ll never admit it.
-Will straight up throw you over his shoulder and walk off when he’s had enough of arguing or your attitude. Usually he takes you straight to the bedroom or to grab a bite to eat. Both usually calms you right down and shuts you right up. Others usually watch in shock when they see this happen, might find it strange, but your man knows you well. He’s figured out the secret code and Damn him if he ain’t gonna use it.
-Down to fuck like 24/7. What? His job causes lots of testosterone spikes. It’s only natural he has an outlet. It helps that he’s obsessed with you. Your body. Your hands all over him, his all over you. Just like he knows to take apart and reassemble a gun with scary precision, he has learned how to handle your body with that very same lethal precise work. He knows every button to push, every trigger to pull to have you come apart and undone under him- every single time. His mind is already wandering off again with thoughts about it in the briefing room, to Price’s disappointment. Oopsie. Focus, Ghostie.
-Goes crazy seeing you in his hoodies and t-Shirts. The way they pool at your thighs, so big on your frame that is so small in comparison to his, it does something to the man.
-His love language is definitely not physical touch. He hates it. Any form of it, except for one. His love language is your touch. Your touch only. The way you comically fail at trying to wrap his entire broad frame into a hug, when you tell him you missed him. The way you rest your feet on his lap, when you read your little romance novels. (The ones he swears he finds goofy but will insist on buying for you at the bookstore every single time you ask him to take you there.) He loves the way you demand he give you head scratches, snuggling into his chest to give him easy access. Speaking of easy access…did I mention this man loves to fuck you? I mean, it counts as physical touch right, feeling you under him, as he pulls moan after moan from you? Hot damn.
-Loves it when you cook for him. Even if you swore you messed up the food at times. The simple act of you preparing a meal for him, after he had a long day of work seemed anything but simple to him. You’d thought about him. Gone out of your way. And he’s a big dude, always hungry, always eating. He will scarf down every single bite you plate up for him, praising your cooking like it’s the best damn thing he’s ever had, every time. You tell him there’s desert too? You should tell him your ring size as well. The man is ready to get on a knee.
-Random thought but- will always be in stealth mode around you. You’ll be out for a romantic date and the man will be scanning all the nearest escape routes. Will always sit closer by the door in restaurants or sleep closer by the door on hotels in the case of an intrusive attack. Will never let you walk close to the road or let go of his hand in crowds. His job requires him to be a step ahead, always. For you, he’s two steps ahead. Always looking, always anticipating, always planning. When you tell him to ease up, he shushes you. “Can’t have nobody comin’ near my lady…” That settles it then.
A/n: K thanks that was it, hope you enjoyed, requests are open, love you, byeeee<3
A piece of me, for you - Mattheo Riddle x f!reader
An exes to lovers story. Part 3.
(Part 2 here) (Part 1 here)
Summary: You’ve taken up a strange new hobby. While it leads you down a path of powerful, rare astral magic, you discover ways to protect the one you love most. Mattheo isn’t yours anymore, but you will always look out for him. He doesn’t know it yet, but once he finds out what you’ve been doing for him…
It’s not the waking, it’s the rising. A thing that both you, and Mattheo struggled with this morning, greatly. To say you felt drained after last nights “excursion” was an understatement. What the hell had exactly gone down was still unclear to you. Remnants of the event plagued your mind, sparse, but no less troubling. The fear in your lover’s eyes. The slight crack in his usually stoic demeanour as he heard your voice call out to him. That…thing trying to suck the very life out of him. Something sinister, something dark came knocking on his door that night. And you’d been there to open it. Thank Merlin you had. Had you overstepped? Perhaps. Were you entitled to astral project into your ex’s bedroom in the middle of the night and fight off his intruders for him? Some experts might negate said entitlement. Well- fuck them and fuck anyone else trying to take away your place in Mattheo’s life.
Your loyalty knew no bounds. You’d acquired a skill that one or the other witch or wizard would kill for. And you would put it to good use. You understood your talents, what you’d done last night as if it were the most mundane act. An out of body excursion, learned and performed through meticulous research, deep focus, meditation and a powerful push of the spiritual body. Simple to grasp to your mind, like washing the dishes or folding laundry. No big deal. But to Mattheo it was no such thing. No, he was somewhere between debilitating exhaustion, maddening worry and mind-breaking confusion. A death eater coming to get him seemed like the most normal, digestible thing about the whole situation. How you played a role in it all? He didn’t know and it was driving him mad. And so despite his exhaustion, he pushed through and made his way to the only place he knew he’d find you immediately.
Defense against the dark arts. Your favourite class, it always had been. And he thanked the gods as he saw it on the very top of this morning’s schedule, rushing to the classroom. He didn’t care about distance right now. He needed to see that you were okay. Needed to know what the hell you’d done for him to still be here. Or if he was utterly insane and had imagined the whole thing in his heartbroken, grieving little mind. He remembered all the times you’d tutored him in DADA, feigning annoyance at his failure to concentrate. But you’d never been able to quite hide your smiles. Smiles directed at him, and his stupidity and…Merlin, he missed you. Hell, he even missed the damn homework he’d been forced to do, because you considered it “crucial” for his academic performance. Merlin knows he hasn’t touched a textbook since you two called it quits.
Or technically since he called it quits, and broke both of your hearts in the process. No use now. He had to see you. But his mind went blank, the mental list of questions he’d prepared fully disappearing as he stepped into the classroom, eyes darting to your seat in the front row. She’s not here. He realised to his great displeasure. No, no, no, why isn’t she here? This is her favourite class. The panic made its way up his throat, leaving a bitter burn behind. Were you hurt? Worse? Fuck this class. He supposed he wasn’t attending after all, being ready to just about storm your dorm now. He was determined, turned on his feet abruptly and stormed right off into the direction he’d just come from. When suddenly, a clatter made him halt. Shit.
He hoped no one had seen what just fell out the pocket of his uniform and turned around slowly, trying to retrieve the lost item undetected. His classmates didn’t pay him any mind though, too busy chatting away the last few minutes of peace before class officially started. Relieved, he crouched down to grab it and make himself scarce quickly, when a calloused, strong hand beat him to it and snatched it up before he could. Mattheo’s head whipped up, just about ready to launch himself at the culprit when he halted, as if he’d been caught. Professor Remus Lupin didn’t so much as cast a single glance his way, too occupied with ogling the Stone in his hand like it had dropped down from the heavens itself. “Mr. Riddle….” He started, his mouth slightly agape as he shifted is gaze towards Mattheo again. “By all things holy…how on earth did you acquire this?” Mattheo simply blinked at the Professor, who expectantly awaited an answer. He was practically freaking out over a damn stone. “Mr. Riddle, who gave this to you?” Lupin inquired again, this time less patient, practically buzzing.
“An old friend.” Was all Mattheo mustered up. You had always been his best friend. That you no longer were, or that you were the one responsible for the stone was none of Lupin’s business, he decided. “Why, what is that thing?” He asked nonchalantly, earning an exasperated huff from his professor. “What this is? Oh, great heavens…you don’t know what you possess, I thought it a myth, to see one in real life…brilliant…”, Lupin rambled off, still amazed by the damn rock. “Do you remember the lesson in which I taught you about the Patronus Charm?” Mattheo simply nodded, growing curious about where this was going. “This, Mr Riddle, is a type of…Patronus.” Mattheo snorted a laugh. “It’s a rock.” He deadpanned, growing agitated as the Professor was clearly pulling his leg. Lupin sighed in defeat, shaking his head. “Does your friend know more about this than you do, by chance?”
“I suppose, maybe she does, why?” Mattheo asked, his interest piqued now. “Then whoever they are, they must greatly value your life, boy. This…this is incredible, it’s powerful, I’ve never seen one outside of a textbook! It’s a Patronus, but one that needn’t be summoned. It is…” He trailed off, struggling to explain the words to explain this wondrous artifact. “It’s what?” Mattheo urged now, put off by Lupin’s stumbling of words. “In the rarest of cases when summoning a Patronus…think one in a century…it’s not something that shows up…it’s someone.” Mattheo was barely following, narrowing his eyes as the professor went on. “Could it be possible that your “friend” is…somehow involved in the discipline of Astral Travel?” He asked carefully, knowing it to be a touchy subject. Mattheo damn near lost his mind. He knew it! It was you and you had been up to no fucking good, as he’d feared. “Maybe…why?” Lupin practically jumped with awe. “Fascinating! Simply fascinating…Mr Riddle, I won’t inquire, I don’t put my nose where it doesn’t belong- but I gather you summoned your Patronus recently, for whatever reason.” He paused and cleared his throat before going on. “She was watching over you. From another plane. Your Patronus never came, she did. And she left you a little something. A piece of her very soul.” He stated, lifting up the rock.
“She…what?” Lupin simply smiled at Mattheo’s confusion. “Astral Projection, risky subject to most, but she seems to have mastered it by the looks of it. Don’t be alarmed, she wasn’t there physically. But she left behind a…piece of her, I suppose. What seems to be a stone in any regular situation, proves to be an undying, everlasting speck of light, from her light body-state when it’s needed. Meaning her spiritual body, while her physical one-“
“Yeah, I get it, thanks. Astral Projection, all clear.” Mattheo cut him off, struggling to process all of this information. His mind was racing, his heart thumping so wildly in his chest he feared the professor might just hear it. He didn’t think, didn’t let the information settle, disregarded the professor entirely as his body turned once again, rushing off to find you at once. “Mr Riddle!” Mattheo stopped at Lupin’s exclamation. “Guard it with your life, and it shall guard yours in return….And one final thing…I suggest you speak to your friend.” That was the very thing he intended to do this very moment, the only thing. Find you. Find his girl.
Your legs were barely keeping you up as you filtered through all of your notes and books in your dimly lit dorm, trying desperately to find an explanation for what happened last night. Your head was pounding, limbs aching, mind fuzzy but you needed answers. All you’ve read so far seemed to be stretches, unlikely explanations for- a knock on the door pulled you out of your daze. “Busy!” You rasped weakly, hoping the intruder would find someone else to annoy. Probably another first year asking for tutoring. But the door squeaked open anyway. “Busy, huh? I can tell.” His voice sent a jolt right through your already battered body. “Mattheo.” You whispered, half relieved, half cautious of the confrontation you were sure to find yourself in, in a matter of moments. He didn’t say anything, just barged forward, grabbing your hand to place the stone in your palm. Not without noting the hollow, dark circles tugging at your beautiful eyes, your cracked lips and disheveled hair. “This.” He breathed out, his hands trembling softly as he tried composing himself. “This?” You asked, unsure of what was happening.
He looked around, noting your research, candle scattered room. “You…you were there last night. I heard you, it saw you.” You nodded curtly, careful with how you went about this all. “I told you. Astral Projection is a useful skill to have.” He shook his head, stepping closer as he grabbed your shoulders, hoping to shake some sense into you. “Y/n, look around, what the hell are you doing?! You could have died!” He tried to sound angry, but his voice gave him away, revealing fear, concern and something…so innocently soft, you simply wanted to grab him and hold him so tight he’d forget any of this ever happened in the first place. “No, Matty. You could have died. Care to explain why there was a whole fucking Dementor in your room? Because I’m pretty sure those don’t just hide under your bed!” He sighed. “Y/n we’ve been over this. Don’t. It’s best that-“
“Best that I don’t know about it, yeah, don’t I fucking know it.” You interrupted him, mirroring the answer you’d gotten to so many of your questions regarding his family while you two had still been dating. “Y/n, we’ve been over this! I told you to stay the hell away from me, that you’re not safe with me and you do the exact opposite! You had no reason to risk your life like that, not for me! We are over, stop caring, Y/n, please!”
The rejection stung like hell, but you weren’t about to cower from his obvious attempt to push you away. “Yeah? Well, maybe I have a fucking say in this too, huh? You don’t want to be with me? Fucking fine! But do not for a second act like I have no right to care for your well-being! Don’t act like we didn’t spend the majority of our lives together and please, for the love of Merlin…don’t act like my concern- me wanting to have your back is some obscene, unheard of thing…you can’t expect me to just…stop caring. Not after everything.” You hadn’t noticed the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes, until you felt Mattheo’s hands on your face, gently wiping them away without thinking. You didn’t meet his gaze, but he lifted up your chin, forcing you to. “I talked to Lupin. He practically lost his mind at this.” He said, holding up the stone. “He said some shit about-…Y/n you’re right. You saved my life last night. Have you any idea, about what the hell you’ve done?”
“I have a couple of theories.” You deadpanned, sniffling. A weak attempt at Humor, a Defense mechanism of yours. His chuckle was soft, almost sad. The look on his face tormented. “Y/n, baby…he said this is a piece of…of your soul…a light, that protects me, somehow, Merlin, he called you my damn Patronus!” He sounded panicked, like he couldn’t fathom his own words, like you’d done something for him that anyone but him had deserved. But you took in every word, deep in thought as the dots in your head slowly connected. “Yeah…yes, of course that makes sense, I did read something about that…I heard you calling out for your Patronus, I didn’t think, Mattheo, i just…I ran for you. And then I was there.” His brows furrowed, swallowing the lump in his throat as you both took in the stone. “Yeah, it makes total sense actually…a piece of me, for you. My light. To keep you safe- I needed you safe, Mattheo. I will always need you safe, even when you try to pretend we are nothing but strangers anymore…”
His resolve shattered into a million pieces, at your raw, honest words. At the care you showed him, the literal piece of your soul you bore to him, the love he knew deep down, he didn’t deserve. But just once in life, he wanted to be selfish. To throw caution to the wind and follow his heart, not paying mind to his family, his burdens…just to you, the one thing he cared about. Your tired, tear stained face broke him. But standing before him, was still the love of his life. Exhausted and tortured…but still the girl he’d sworn he’d marry before life had turned sour for the both of them. He couldn’t pretend anymore. “Heavens, you are so damn reckless…you are absolutely insane- and I love you so damn much…” He breathed out, and in a split second he’d pulled you flush against him, your lips colliding in a kiss so starved, it knocked the air right out of your lungs.
“I’m such a fucking idiot…” He whispered, pulling back for a second to take you in, his lips swollen, eyes gleaming. “Yes. You are.” You sniffled. “I…please don’t cry, pretty girl, I never meant to make you cry, I just…wanted you safe.” You nodded at that. “I know. You could’ve handled it a lot better though.” He didn’t object, simply cradled your face as he nodded. “I know, my love…I know. I don’t know how we’re gonna do this, there’s things about my family that…you can’t know…things you can’t ever be exposed to, I love you too damn much to risk you like that. I just know that…I don’t want to do this without you. I need you. God, you don’t know how much I need you.” His voice cracked and you swore your heart did too. You finally wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, one you both desperately needed. “I know where to start, perhaps.” You muttered into the crook of his neck, making him hum in question. “There’s a diary that needs destroying. The diary of one Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
A/n: Part 3!!! This could be the final with a cool open ending. Unless ya want an official ending, part 4 with some smut? Idk, we’ll see how thus one performs, love ya, bye!!!
A piece of me, for you - Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader
An exes to lovers story. Part 2. (Read Part 1 here.)
Summary: You’ve taken up a strange new hobby. While it leads you down a path of powerful, rare astral magic, you discover ways to protect the one you love most. Mattheo isn’t yours anymore, but you will always look out for him. He doesn’t know it yet, but once he finds out what you’ve been doing for him…
Your dorm, currently only vacated by you, since your roommate had recently transferred, had turned into a makeshift lab. Candles towering on altars, carefully written protocols of your astral travels and notes lying scattered, ancient books waiting to be finished and countless charms and potions ensuring your safety during your projections filled the space. You weren’t going mad, you were perfecting this. You had seen, felt and learned so much already, stopping now wasn’t logical in the slightest. You were mastering the art of Astral Projecting. The fact that it distracted you from your ex was just a plus. Kill two birds with one stone. Be in two astral planes with one body. Right?
But where you were going tonight, was a special place. Your research leading up to this was meticulous, flawless. You were going to bypass the wards and charms of the forbidden section in the Hogwarts Library and sneak your astral body right in. It was one book you wanted in particular. The last remaining copy of Tom Marvolo Riddle’s diary. All records of this diary were said to have been destroyed. But one remained, in the forbidden section of your own school’s library, as an old spirit told you in one of your astral travels. “It rests locked away in the forbidden section, rightfully so. In fact, it too would be best destroyed, as far as I’m concerned. It poses a danger you cannot fathom, girl.” The spirit had spoken that night. It had spooked you, sure, but not enough to keep you away.
You were going to find it and spend all night memorising its contents. You needed to know Mattheo’s family history. The reasons for his fear, his problems. You needed to find a way to not only understand- but save the boy you love. Was it a good idea? No, of course not. You knew that. You weren’t actually going mad like Trewlaney would panic on about, you were fully aware of the dangers, risks and strains of this mission. You were just above caring, fully trusting your power with this. You were perfectly prepared, a calculated Acolyte with a plan.
On the other side of the castle, Mattheo lied still as statue, staring up at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him. His mind though- his mind was racing. Running laps in fact, as a primal worry filled his very being. Worry. About you. His girl. Making her way down a path every sane witch and wizard avoided. Not many things terrified him, but astral plane, particularly you in the midst of it scared the shit out of him. He tried stopping you. Hell, he even prayed to whoever might be listening to bring some sense into your stubborn self. He thought of calling, texting or just dragging you into his dorm where he could keep an eye on you all night. But he swore to himself, swore he’s stay away from you. The legacy his family had left in his crib was creeping up. It was catching up to him. Shadows, whispers, darkness stalking him in the corner of his eye, figures who seemed to disappear the moment he turned to look at them. Hell, was he the one going insane?
He didn’t want it to be true, but knew something was calling out to him. Coming to pluck him away and drop him into the spot his father had intended for him. And he didn’t want you anywhere near him when it happened, despite the fact that your absence in his life felt like the worst fate of all. He was cranky. Moody. Angry all the time. He needed you. He needed you so damn much, and he felt it every single second, of every single day. But he needed you safe and sound even more. So he kept his distance. And he wasn’t going to break tonight. “She’ll be okay. She has to be okay.” He murmured to himself, trying desperately to fall asleep. What didn’t help was the faint darkness in the corners of his room feeling like they were closing in on him ever so slowly.
Was that…was that a faint whisper he heard? There…there it was again! Another one! He truly was going mad. He felt his body going static, propping himself up as an eerie energy filled his dorm. Theo was out for the night, he was all alone. Shit. Slowly the sparse, faint whispers grew louder, forming a near choir of unintelligible chants, making the hair on his neck stand. “What the…” his heart sank mid sentence at what stood in the corner of the room, waiting, looming, darkness dripping off of it as it seemed to revel in his primal fear.
Meanwhile, you were peace personified. Back in your dorm, you lied flat on your back, eyes closed as you evened out your breathing. Your thoughts were focused solely on your destination and the objective at hand. This was going to be a success. You felt it. Everything was perfectly planned, your protection charm was placed in your open palm and you felt your body slowly travelling out of your body. Slowly. Too slow. What the hell? Pictures of Mattheo’s face crowded your usually trained mind, sounds of his voice…Damn it, Y/n…focus…it was like they were anchoring you, keeping you tied down. It didn’t make sense, you had perfectly orchestrated tonight’s plan- there it was again! The sound of Mattheo’s voice, faint, distant, but certainly his. You’d recognise it anywhere but this…it didn’t come from your mind. It was him. Clear as day.
How could this be? You heard him, you didn’t imagine him, you were actually hearing him, his train of thought! Never full sentences, just parts. “…can’t run..” You heard his inner monologue echo. A tinge of panic shot through you. What? Abandoning your plan at once, your astral body started drifting towards the source of the voice. A slow drift at first. You heard a string of curses from wherever he was and you started moving quicker. Where was he? Was he alright?! How…”…spells…not…working…” you heard his panicked inner voice, making you move faster. I’m coming, Mattheo, hold on, I’m coming! By the time you saw a faint light in the distance of the astral realm, you swore you heard the echo of the word “patronum” around you. Holy Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit! Did he call out to his patronus? It could mean one thing only, and the mere thought of it sent you into a full sprint towards the light.
You had never moved this fast in your life, not in your physical, nor astral self, you were practically bending the rules of time and physics as your figure made of light pummelled towards the sound of his voice. And before you got the chance to register your surroundings properly, you found yourself in his room. Not physically. But in his room, nevertheless. Oh, how many nights you’d spent here…“Mattheo? What’s wrong, Matty, talk to me!” Your panicked voice echoed around his room, and he looked up in complete shock. He completely lost it. He must’ve. How the hell was he hearing you? A soft, strange light filtered into his dorm. What was gentle at first, turned into a full, glowing beam of light as your voice grew more panicked. “Mattheo, are you okay?”
He looked around frantically, hearing you, but not seeing you. “Y/n?” He called out, disorientated and afraid. How was he hearing you? He didn’t understand. But there…the dementor…it was backed up in the corner, shrieking, backing away from the source of blinding light! And that’s when you saw it too. “Great Merlin…”, your voice echoed as you took it in moved towards it. You knew it could do you no harm. You were unafraid and protected. This is one of the many scenarios you had prepared for. And you weren’t going to let it near the man you loved. You were closing in on it, but to Mattheo, it merely looked like a silhouette of light drifting towards the dementor. A silhouette of light, faintly resembling that of a woman…a woman with your voice… no! Merlin no, it couldn’t be. Your light was ancient, powerful and it sent the dementor shrieking, disappearing back into the night.
The whispers fainted, a serene silence filling his dorm at last, the hum of your light fainter now too, but still radiating off of you, enveloping him and his room like a comforting, sheer veil. A soft, near heavenly glow that made his panic still at once. His heart was still pounding. But something primal in him knew…he was okay now. He didn’t understand. But he didn’t dare question it. “Rest now…you’re safe…” Your voice echoed distantly as you mustered your final strength, leaving behind a single speck of light where you stood as your silhouette disappeared from his room like it had never been there. Your astral body found its way back to its physical frame, and as it entered it once again, you fell unconscious from sheer exhaustion. Whatever you just did there…it took a huge amount of energy. But he was safe. Mattheo was safe. And that was all you needed for tonight.
Back in his own bed, he was trying desperately to catch his breath, trying to fathom what in Merlin’s name just happened. He thought himself sane enough to know he hadn’t been hallucinating. Still shaking softly, he climbed out of his bed, making his slow way to the spot where…you, or his hallucination of you or whatever else just saved his ass stood just moments ago. To the soft glow still remaining in its spot. Cautiously, he approached it. Clear as day, it had been real! A speck of light remained on the ground where you’d been! Not a speck, a sphere…a pebble…a stone? He knelt down, picking up the quartz like object, looking it over in utter awe. It was practically humming, glowing even stronger now that he was touching it. He had not the faintest idea what to make of any of this.
The only thing he knew, was to clutch it tightly, bringing it to his chest as he felt like he could properly breathe again for the first time since this whole situation started. A sudden exhaustion washed over him. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he slowly dragged his feet back to his back. He should’ve been terrified. Too panicked to go back to sleep. But the stone like speck of light clutched to his chest eased his instincts to fight or run. It enveloped him in a blanket of security and calm as he found himself drifting off slowly. Still not daring to let go of the stone, he muttered out to you. “…thank you…Y/n…for whatever the hell that was…” His voice was quiet, weak. Was he talking to a damn rock? But the stone hummed in something like recognition. And with that, he too found his way into sleeps grasp.
He was going to find you first thing tomorrow. And he was either going to strangle you for putting yourself in harm’s way, kiss you for saving his life or make a fool of himself, because maybe none of this ever happened and he’d been dreaming. Dreaming of you, because his heart longed for every fibre of your being. Which of the three situations would actually happen was up to fate to decide.
For tonight though, fate decided that making you two dream about each other for the rest of the entire night was the right way to go. As we all knew before, fate was a mean fucker.
A/n: Hope you enjoyed this, I sure loved writing it. Part 3 is sure to be written, if you all wish it to be.
Much love xx (repost, comment and like or something or I’ll send a dementor to your room, no Y/n to save your ass)
A piece of me, for you - Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader
An exes to lovers story. Part 1.
Summary: You’ve taken up a strange new hobby. While it leads you down a path of powerful, rare astral magic, you discover ways to protect the one you love most. Mattheo isn’t yours anymore, but you will always look out for him. He doesn’t know it yet, but once he finds out what you’ve been doing for him…
Tags: Exes to lovers, kind of slow burn (let the story build before it gets romancey y’all, it’s worth it with this one), cursing, sick ass reader with sick ass magic
You swore the walls of the classroom were caving in as you fought to stay awake during potions. What a trivial class, you thought. Your recent, extracurricular ventures taught you more than any of this professor’s babbling could. But those same exact ventures were the reason your eyes threatened to fall shut with every blink. After a dreadful eternity, your legs moved on their own, boosting you up from your seat the second your professor dismissed the class. Too fast apparently, as your vision went blurry and your traitorous legs buckled beneath you, causing you to stumble.
Before you got the chance to grab the desk for support, he was by your side. Mattheo held you up by your elbow, as your exhaustion riddled face whipped towards him. “Woah there, easy…are you okay?” He asked, a mix of confusion and concern written on his familiarly handsome face. It only took you a second to register that you nearly collapsed, the only thing between you and the cold, hard floor being your ex boyfriend firmly holding you up. Ex boyfriend. The label seemed so…ridiculous. Unfitting. He was your soulmate. Your Matt.
But fate was mean and fate was cruel. He never dared to explain it to you, but his family history and its looming danger ripped you two apart. The mention of his responsibilities, moral corruption and hell- even word of death eaters left you worrying, fearing for his safety and precisely for that reason, Mattheo pulled back. He ended things. Just like that. Like it didn’t shred your world into a million pieces. And here you were. Exhausted because you had pulled yet another all nighter, trying desperately to distract your aching mind.
“Y/n?” He asked again, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Just studied late.” You muttered. Oh, but your sweet Mattheo knew you better than you liked. “Late night studying doesn’t do that.” He said, pointing out your current state with a skeptical look. “What’s going on, Y/n?” His voice was soft, but you could tell he was forcing himself to keep an edge to it. You hated it. The love of your life pretending to be a half stranger. The bitter ache spilling over your heart, filling every crack and hole that he left, sent your head spinning. “I’m fine.” Your voice was sterner this time. You wanted out of this situation. “Just a project I’m working on, nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
He didn’t like that answer. Not one bit in fact, you noticed, as his eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into yours as if he was staring into your innermost being. “No…You don’t participate in your favourite classes. You’re pale as a damn ghost. You barely talk to anyone during lunch, not even Pansy and for Merlin’s sake…when’s the last time you slept? You look…” You cut him off before he could finish that sentence. You were in no state to hear it. Why would he notice those things? He would’ve had to watch you to notice them, during class, during your breaks…And how dare he watch you, care or concern himself with you when he left a giant, gaping hole where your heart had once been? Perhaps it was the exhaustion, but the grief in your body turned to anger as if by a switch.
You held back a string of curses, sighing in annoyed defeat. “If I tell you will you drop it?” Mattheo, used to your attitude, simply shrugged- urging you to go on. Fuck it. You had no strength or intention of making this sound sane. “Astral Projection.” You deadpanned. The cold, simple truth. You saw his features contort in a way you’d never seen before as he let out an exasperated huff. “What?” You shrugged. “You heard me. I’ve been working on my Astral Projection. A powerful skill to have and all that.” The look of disbelief on his face morphed into one of anger now. “Y/n, you can’t be fucking serious. Astral Projecting?”
You didn’t budge. Not a sign of a reaction on your features. Yeah. Astral-fucking-projection. Something you discovered you were not only capable of- which was already quite unheard of for a witch your age, but something that you were even quite good at. The fact that you’d discovered this skill completely by accident one night, was none of his business. It was one of those many restless nights you’d gotten so used to, those nights where your brain tortured you relentlessly with thoughts of your beloved and the ominous dangers he faced but refused to open up about. And thoughts of how he was no longer keeping you warm at night.
It was slowly draining the life out of you. You couldn’t do it anymore. You wanted to be anywhere else, away from those thoughts, him, the loneliness, the pain. You wished and wished and wished for your brain to quiet down and take the pain away, even just for an hour each night as you lied in bed. And one particular night, you found yourself away from it all. A calming silence. A weightless feeling to your tired limbs. A calm your heart hadn’t felt in a long time, as your out-of-body self traveled from one beautiful place to another in a plane unfamiliar to you. A plane unlike yours.
At your lack of a reaction, his frustration only grew. “Y/n! Trelawney talked about this, first year, and every year after… Specifically not to do it, you maniac!” He scolded. “Oh, come on, since when do you care about what professors tell us? It’s not that hard once you know what you’re doing. It’s like glorified meditation, Trewlaney is a drama queen.” Your voice lacked the strength to sound affirming, but you meant what you said. He couldn’t believe you. It all made sense. Your exhausted state. The neglect of your physical form and health. Your lack of energy. All symptoms Professor Delawney warned all of the students about countless times. The woman would pale and die if she saw you right now. He cursed himself, he should’ve seen it. Should’ve read the signs, of his poor, pretty girl putting himself in such danger. “ ‘Glorified meditation’ that could make you go insane! People forget their physical state, th-they rot away and get lost in the astral plane…please, Y/n, this is not a joke, this-”
“You said you’d drop it.” Your voice was strained and you felt no need to explain yourself further. Ancient spells, lost literature, music so old that no one but you heard in in centuries, wise spirits with knowledge to share, - those were only some of the many things you encountered each night through your newly revealed gift, in all kinds of places that your mind traveled to. And- momentary peace. How could you forget the momentary peace you felt in the astral plane, even just for one night at a time. You weren’t about to make him understand it. He couldn’t. And though he tried countering while you grabbed your bag and left, unable to hide the worry practically eating him alive, you did anyway. Without looking back you left him behind. “Y/n!” His voice echoed through the halls, but your legs were already carrying you to your dorm hastily.
You had a special trip planned tonight.
A/n: I’m back! Did y’all miss me? Anyway, this is part 1 of my newest story. This was supposed to be a one shot, but the lore is just too good. We’re going in deep, friends. Part 2 coming soon cuz I’m so excited to write it. I hope you enjoyed, k, love you, bye witches.
Ps. Support your favourite artists/authors! If ya see something you like, like it, repost it, leave a sweet lil comment. Share your joy with the rest of the world. It means the world to creators! <3
i have a request for shy!reader x Mattheo headcanons
like how he would introduce her to intimacy and kissing and who knows, maybe a little but of fucking
no pressure to do this of you don’t want to babes
<3
Inexperienced/Shy!Reader x Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Thank you for this sweet request, (it’s been in my drafts for months, I totally forgot about it ooops) here is my interpretation of Mattheo x Shy partner!<3
•His love language is physical touch, so he’s touching you in some way 24/7, like an arm around your waist, a hand on your thigh or a slap to his favourite asset of yours when the opportunity arises.
•You like the affections, but whenever they go beyond the playful nature and things get gradually more heated between the two of you and his want for you more evident, he notices how you tend to grow uncharacteristically tense, nervous even
•He’s noticed on multiple occasions how a tinge of anxiety tends to paint your features when his evident arousal brushes against your leg during a makeout sesh, or how you try to break up a heated moment with nervous laughter here and there
•He just figured you weren’t quite ready just yet, not taking any offense and being patient with you. He would never expect you to be a match for his insane sex drive and fantasies about you from the immediate start, he knew he was dirty, almost unnaturally horny all the time for whatever reason, so he decided to match your pace instead. You’d get there one day, he knew.
•But when that day didn’t come and you interrupted yet another, sloppy, hot makeout session you were having with a little excuse you mustered up an excuse about a headache and tried sneakily covering your bare chest with the shirt he’d pulled off of you a minute ago, he grew concerned. “Baby, hey, don’t tell me you’re not feeling well…if you don’t want this, you can just say so, it’s okay. What’s going on? Is something bothering you?” The gentle hand on your cheek, the soft brown eyes gleaming with concern as they bore into yours broke your resolve.
•You confessed. About all the feelings of restraint and shyness holding you back, about how you weren’t the type to usually let go of your inhibitions during intimacy, how you overthink and get the urge to hide your face in your hands and cower when the topic of sex comes up. It wasn’t sex that scared you, in fact, the thought of it excited you. But the thought of you having sex…it made you uneasy.
•To your surprise, he let out a gentle chuckle, completely gone was his cocky, mischievous nature. „Baby, why didn’t you just tell me? Here I thought you just didn’t find me fuckable or something.“ It was a joke, yes, he knew how good looking and “fuckable“ he actually was, but he earned himself a playful swat to the arm anyway.
•From that point on, it was all affirmations and the consent checks he’d always been using anyway grew even more frequent. “Don’t hide your body from me, baby. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Pure wizardry, the way he could talk your clothes off of your body. Slowly, you were starting to drop the shyness, starting to revel under his hungry gaze even.
•He’d spent many nights taking care of himself, imagining what he’d do to you, how to give you the Allrounder package. There wasn’t much blood left in his brain to form coherent thoughts thanks to his vivid visualisations, but boy did he come up with some things you were certain to like.
•It was slow and experimental at first. Foreplay scared the hell out of you, but the moment his fingers snuck past the waistband of your little pj shorts and made it’s way down to spots you didn’t know could be so sensitive or so wet, your inhibitions melted away. God he was skilled with his fingers.
•And when he kissed his way down your neck, chest and stomach your hand came to stop him right before…he simply grinned, iron grip on your thighs as his head disappeared in between them. “You’re gonna love this baby, let me…” Heavens, you did in fact love it. Your hands tangled in his hair as his silver tongue drew perfect patterns everywhere you needed it too, like the boy had an unparalleled read on your body. From then on, you’d found a favourite way to wind down after a long day, and so did he. He hadn’t known what he had been missing out on this entire time.
•Fucking you was Heaven. Mattheo tried to keep his eagerness at bay at first, slow and careful “…s’this okay? Just relax for me baby…” but it didn’t take long before the pure lust in his body took over. The fact that you’d trusted him with this and the sight of your perfect body underneath his drove him crazy. The burning eye contact as he settled himself between your legs. The blissful sounds that escaped from your kiss swollen lips.
•It was then you were both hooked. He’d rocked your world, god forbid, even turned you into a somewhat of a perv like him! He’d made you feel so good, so comfortable that you found yourself sneaking a hand down his boxers whenever you felt like it, or whined out for him when he was teasing. And he…well, it’d be an understatement to say he planned on fucking you every chance he got, every flat surface he found for the rest of his life. Your boyfriend found his life’s purpose in the crook of your neck, your nails digging into his back as you two chased incomparable highs.
Summary: Cutest Boyfriend!Bucky x Reader, pure fluff when he comes home from saving the world and finds you snuggled up in bed and shows you how eager he is to melt into your arms
The cozy New York apartment you shared with your lover lied dimly lit by a handful of sweetly scented candles (the ones Bucky learned to love so much and lit in secret when you weren’t there, because they reminded him of you) as soft music hummed from the speaker next to your bed. You were perched up against the headboard, wrapped up in the linen that still smelt faintly of your beloved, missing him even though you’d last seen him only this morning. Still, you had cozied up with your latest romance novel of choice, wanting desperately to kill the time until your sweet man returned home to you.
Your shift had ended in time, but the same couldn’t be said for your Avenger boyfriend. You guessed clocking out of work early wasn’t an option when his job was saving the world. Deeply lost in the words on the pages as the soft melodies of your carefully curated playlist only heightened the effect of the sappy story in your hands, you didn’t register the click of the door, or the heavy, usually familiar footsteps that followed. As per usual, Bucky discarded his heavy combat boots in the corner before making a direct beeline to your shared bedroom, not even bothering to take off his jacket. Only you. You were the first thing he needed after a long, trying day.
You jumped slightly as he entered the room, eyes darting up from your book to see him grinning at you from the doorframe like you’d hung the moon, slowly approaching you in your little nest. “S’just me, angel.” He cooed gently, noting that you hadn’t heard him come in. Immediately, you were cheesing at the sight of your boyfriend, finally home, slightly dishevelled from what was a stressful day no doubt, but looking as handsome as ever. “Hi, baby, hey…” You said, your tone almost carrying a tone of relief. He threw his jacket on the floor as you threw your book to the side like it was the most boring thing in the world, shifting to the edge of the bed so he could scoop you up like he always did.
And exactly that he did. He leaned down to meet your lips with his, painfully gentle as his arms snaked around your body, clad in his shirt. He loved it. Coming home to his sweet, gorgeous girlfriend, and her tender, sweet loving to take him away from the cold, harsh reality of the world in the little bubble they shared. “Hey yourself…” He mumbled into your neck, pulling you in even tighter as he took in your scent like a soldier who’d been yearning for his woman for ages. As per instinct, your hand found its familiar place in his hair as you gently played with his soft, dark locks.
He let out a deep sigh of content, melting into you like a tired pup. And when you mumbled a soft “….i missed you.” he swore his entire body was mush, practically a desperate, purring mess for your gentle touch and voice. In an instant, his lips found their way to yours again. “I missed you too, sweetheart…so damn much.” He whispered between kisses and even though there wasn’t a single inch of space between your bodies, he felt as though he didn’t have you close enough. “You got all cozy without me sweetheart, hm?” He playfully asked as he gently nudged you down to rest flat on your back on the bed again, not waiting a second to plant his entire, huge super soldier self right on top of you.
You erupted into a fit of giggles as your giant boyfriend nearly crushed you under his weight, but it was the kind of comforting weight you longed for when he was gone. That reassuring weight of the love of your life fully relaxing in your arms, the way he could only ever relax with you and no one else, the safety you felt when your big boy covered you fully, your body disappearing under his, absolutely tiny in comparison. The fit of soft laughter you two had shared dimmed down softly as he closed his eyes and hummed gently against your neck. You swore then and there you’d go to unimaginable lengths to protect the sweetest lovebug of a man currently in your arms, that you’d go to unimaginable lengths to make him the happiest man alive.
But when you’d asked him about his day, the only reply you received were his heavy little breaths fanning your neck as he shifted, deep asleep, nuzzling into you further. You chuckled to yourself quietly, and he used the split second of consciousness he regained from the sound to mutter a sleepy “…I love you, pretty girl….” And before the blush on your cheeks had managed to fade, you too had dozed off under your favourite boyfriend shaped weighted blanket. Taking in each others scents so closely, heart rates and shallow breaths synching, it was no wonder you both dreamt of each other that night.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed my lovessss!!! Requests are open!!! I’m inspired and back from my hiatus (or just ovulating, idk) so send in anything ya wanna see. Ily<3
okay but how darling is it when a 6ft+, jacked specimen of a masculine man curls up on top of u with his full bodyweight and melts when he gets head scratches. they’re like little kitties deep down 🥺🤧 „I’m not cute, don’t call me cute“ Says the fully grown man that hides his face in your chest (crushing you with his weight) and snoozes off like a little munchkin. Okay.
literally read ur fics last night then got the notif ur back, thought i summoned u or smth 🙈
LMAOOO y’all ALERT it’s witchcraft, I have been summoned. Send in any asks you like, I’m back in my writer era again. From Bucky Barnes to Mattheo Riddle, I do it all<3 love y’all sorry for ghosting oops
Winter Soldier X Reader "My mission's changed" Part 3 (story on hiatus)
Warnings: Drunk reader, mentions of alcohol, (mentally and slightly physical) abusive relationship, implied violence
Your plan to escape the disturbing roommate that had forced his way into your life and get wasted went exactly as you had hoped. Having a friend behind one of the best bars in New York pays off you found out, stumbling back to your apartment about three hours and one too many drinks later. You had stopped counting how many you'd downed once the effects kicked in, which was pretty early on in the evening. Safe to say, you were trashed. The cab ride home felt like a blur and as you stumbled over your own two feet, barely managing to keep from falling, you approached your apartment door. You clumsily took your keys out, missing the lock one, two- three times before finally managing to unlock the door and tripping inside. The soldier had been aware and alert of your return the second he'd heard your footsteps in the stairwell, so your sudden shadowy presence in the living room wasn't a shock to him.
What did shock him was the state you seemed to be in. He took you in, studying you closely and his enhanced sight allowed him to see your hazy eyes, your wobbly legs even in complete darkness. You'd almost forgotten he was there, but seeing the bed he'd made for himself on the ground next to your couch brought you all the reminder you needed. "Ah, right...my roomie. I'm home!" You slurred and he could smell the scent of artificially sweetened liquor from the other side of the room. "You know, you can-" Your frame shook with a clumsy hiccup, making you giggle before continuing. "You can sleep on the couch...don't have t-to take the floor..." His face glazed over in concern for a split second, before he forced it back returned to one of trained indifference. "It's too soft." He merely muttered, as you shrugged at the blunt statement.
"S'Alright, suit yaself...I'm going to bed..." You slurred, picking up your heavy legs one step at a time but stopping midway, unsteady on your feet. "Y'know what? Think I'm just gonna...crash here." You slurred, eyes closing as the room started spinning and you realized you wouldn't make it to your bedroom which lied just a few steps ahead. You slumped down onto the couch, not noticing that you were closer to him than ever as you practically lied knocked out two steps away from him. The man just stared at you, his face a mixture of sheer confusion and concern. What was wrong with you? Why did people willingly lose control like this, was it fun? Were you going to be okay? He had stayed awake all night, not moving an inch, sitting on the cold, hard ground and staring at you for a while, staring out the window for another and at you again as you slept away your intoxication.
The headache you awoke to next morning wasn't of this world. You opened your heavy eyes, narrowing them to deaden the painful soar of daylight in anticipation when- you saw your entire apartment had been blacked out, curtains drawn and any and all light shut off completely. Wait, had you slept an entire day and awoken the next night? That couldn't be! You checked your phone and almost gasped in relief as you saw it was 1pm. No, wait, shit! It was 1pm! Your boyfriend would be over in an hour! You kicked the blanket off your legs clumsily- wait. How'd that even get there? You didn't remember much, but you remember not even being able to make it to your room, let alone grab a blanket...or did you? Whatever, you scrambled up, alerting the soldier who stood by the kitchen counter, silently sharpening one of his many knives.
You pulled open a curtain as you flinched at the harsh light, before locking eyes with the stranger. He didn't speak as you made eye contact, but he put down the blade as he looked at you, his sharp eyes unwavering. "Drink." He merely ordered, and at your confused blink he simply nodded over to the coffee table that stood before the couch you'd turned into a makeshift sleeping space. And to your surprise, there lied a bottle of water next to a single, white pill. "What's that? Did you get your hands on poison after all?" You weakly attempted to joke, an attempt at a distraction from your current situation- the fact that he must've seen you last night, acting like...oh god, the thought was making you cringe.
"Not poison, you people call it Ibuprofen." He bluntly retorted, getting back to the cleaning of his weaponry. You had no idea you could clean, and wipe and polish a damn knife so much. "Right. Uh, thanks- I guess." You mumbled, taking a sip of the water, but leaving the questionable pill on the table before disappearing into your room to get ready. Your boyfriend would be here soon, and he couldn't see you looking like this, not in a million years. You could practically hear his comments about your appearance in your head. The assassin heard you franticaly shuffling around your room, the digging through your wardrobe, even held back a scoff as you bolted back into the living room in a hurry, looking for the lash curler you had 'left here somewhere'. It was awfully strange but equally humorous to him, how calm and collected you were with a complete (murderous) stranger in your home, but how you flew into a full blown, frantic panic mode whenever your boyfriend came around.
Not long after, the doorbell rang and you emerged from your room in a split second, rushing towards the door. The stranger merely graced you with a look over his shoulder as he stood positioned by his lookout window again and clenched his jaw at the sight of you. How you'd switched out the liquour stained jeans and the crumbled top you'd slept in for a cute little floral dress, how you'd curled your hair up ever so nicely and blushed up your cheeks...it almost reminded him of something. It reminded him of a time long past....something vintage almost, the 40s? The 50s perhaps? Blurry pictures of girls dressed in a similar fashion, funfairs, dimly lit diners and slow dances over jukebox music starting fogging up his mind at the sight of you - but as quickly as they'd come, they vanished and he shook it off. The feeling of liking what he saw...no matter how scary, that was one he couldn't quite shake.
You'd almost forgotten he was there, that's how quiet he was, like he was one with the shadows of your shoebox apartment. But as you were about to open the door for your boyfriend, you remembered and whipped your head around, opening your mouth to tell him to scatter, hide- anything. But he'd beaten you to it, there was no trace of him. Creepy. But welcome. He'd understood your condition and he'd hidden himself from your boyfriend that now waltzed in without so much as a kiss as you opened the door. You nervously smoothed over your dress, your latest purchase, hoping, aching that he would notice or god forbid- maybe even compliment you. But alas, once again you had gotten your hopes up too high. "Where were you last night?" He asked calmly as he poured himself a glass of leftover lemonade from your kitchen.
"Me? Uh, I visited Nicole at the bar, why?" You asked nervously, eyeing him with caution. "At the bar, huh? Weird, because you didn't tell me you were going. And then "find my phone" sends me an alert that you're out in the middle of the night, doing god knows what." Shit, you'd forgotten he had your location 24/7. Not that you were hiding anything, but you did remember he disliked it when you didn't tell him about any and all plans you made. He set down his glass and walked towards you, seemingly having talked himself into growing frustration. You sensed it and backed up. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Anthony. It was just really spontaneous, you know? I had a bad day and just figured I'd go down-"
"Go down and drink your problems away like a damn alcoholic? Hm? Is that why you didn't tell me, you were embarrassed of yourself?" He came even closer now, as his tone turned sour. "No, no that's not it I just-" He cut you off again, his anger rising up like bile in his throat as your slumped shoulders and scared state spurred him on even more. "Or did you meet someone there, is that it, hm? Is it? Does that explain your secrecy?" Your eyes widened at the question, was he insinuating that you..."Anthony, are you seriously asking me if I was seeing someone else? You have got to be kidding me!" That last bit came out a bit louder than you had planned and his dislike was evident as he shoved his body against yours, your back hitting the wall behind you with a thud. His hand came up to grip your jaw as he stood so close thay your noses were practically touching. You could feel his breath on your lips as he snapped at you.
"Now who the hell are you raising your voice at, hm? Fucking going out behind my back, getting wasted like a drunk and then you raise your voice at me- who knows, maybe even fucking another guy! What the fuck kinda woman are you? You're pathetic." He spat, and you felt yourself withering away in his tight grip. Had anyone told you you'd ever be in a relationship like this, you would've laughed. You would've sworn you were too strong, too independent, too resilient. But the games and the emotional roller coasters this man had put you through...it's like you were stuck. Metaphorically and physically as he still has you pushed up against the wall, his crazed eyes burning right though you. A single tear snuck it's way down your cheek and he released you from his grip, not out of pity, but out of frustration at your little display of emotion.
"I just need a minute." You excused yourself and rushed to your bedroom, locking the door as you slumped against it. He was driving you crazy. Why did you care about him so much when all he did was treat you like this? Was he just worried about you? You knew you needed to fix the blotches of mascara now running down your face as you sobbed silently, turning to make your way towards your vanity. But only a step in, cold, hard metal found it's grip on your wrist and you stifled a yelp as you turned around. The stranger stood in front of you, towering above you as his icy blues bore into your eyes. "Do you need me to kill him?" You took a step back, your mouth hung agape as you stammered. "W-what?"
"He's hostile. If you need him eliminated, tell me now." He spoke bluntly, as if the act of 'eliminating' people was nothing out of the ordinary for him, as if he was merely awaiting your orders. "H-he's my boyfriend, no! Jesus, he's just in a bad mood, are you crazy?!" You whispered in a panic, shifting under his now narrowed gaze. "He should pick on someone his own size. Little boys like that should learn how to keep their hands to themselves, or find out what it's like to have their brains blown-" "Jesus, enough!" You breathed. "I am fine, he is fine, we are all fine, just mind your business, please! How'd you even get into my room?" He wasn't appreciative of your subject change, but he knew when to drop something. "Fire escape." He merely stated. "Right, well just stay here and don't kill anyone, for heaven's sake, please!"
You had made your way back out of your room after fixing your messy state, and spent the next two hours tending to your boyfriend's moods, who spent his time raiding your pantry and clicking through your TV channels as he lied sprawled out on the couch. All of your efforts went in to making sure he wouldn't lash out again, an attempt at self protection. Little did you know that a certain broody stranger had lingered outside by your 8th floor living room window in the freezing cold for these exact 2 hours, 17 minutes and 39 seconds, keeping a close eye on the excuse of a man next to you until he'd left. He didn't know why or how he got himself into this predicament, but he sensed a primal protectiveness in his gut when he looked at you. He saw you giggling at something on the TV screen in front of you, and his eyes darkened.
How the hell did such a gentle, caring girl end up with a violent asshole like this? A girl that cooked a threatening stranger dinner, because she thought he might be hungry? A girl that made weak attempts at jokes to lighten every mood, even though she was the one that needed a pick-me-up the most? A girl that saw him sleeping on the floor and offered him her couch, even caring and thoughtful when she was wasted out of her mind? He couldn't understand. But if you weren't going to look out for yourself, he sure as hell was. He was confused with this feeling, concerned even with the natural instincts he felt towards you. Yeah, he'd grown strangely protective over the sweet girl hiding him in her home, he'd become like your very own guardian, like a phantom lurking in the shadows of your small apartment to make sure you stayed out of harm's way. It was starting to distract him from his mission sure...but he didn't mind much. He was ready to step in and rip your little boyfriend to shreds if he put his hands on you again.
The winter soldier was ready to comply.
Hey little angels, I hope you enjoyeeeed. Sorry this took so long, but I'm finally done with my last final whoooooppp!!! Here's the taglist:
BABE!!!! my missions changed is soooooo good. i just read parts 1 & 2 and i NEED part 3. like ma'm (i don't know if you identify as male or female, so i use the term ma'm loosely.) your writing is so good, im basicly only breathing for your next part!
YAAAS THANK YOUUU! Writing the new chapter as we speak my Pooks, sorry it took so long I'm unfortunately super busy atm but here we gooo! Very excited to bring our favourite, big weird soldier back.
Steve Rogers X Reader "I'll do better" (Smut, Fluff)
Summary: Following a fight Steve and you had due to the fact the he was barely home these days, he sees how much you've been missing him. Even worse, every minute he couldn't spend with you tortured him just like it did you. The super hero life is a busy one, and he knows he hasn't been giving his best girl the attention and time she deserves. Luckily, he knows exactly how to take responsibility and make it up to you.
Warnings: Angst- then smut, then fluff THE BIG THREEEE, + touch starved steve, use of petnames
6pm, Friday. You had been mindlessly thumbing through a book for about an hour after having napped all day, trying desperately to concentrate on the small printed words but failing miserably. Every other sentence, your mind wandered back to images of the fight you'd had with Steve this morning. You'd told him how much his constant absence was starting to take a toll on you, and he'd handled it so sweetly in typical Steve Rogers fashion. He was hearing out every word you said, guilty and upset about how much he missed you as well with all the missions he was forced to go on. But when you hit a sensitive spot, slipping and making it seem like he didn't care, he too got a bit more heated and defensive.
The fight had gotten ugly, which was unusual for the two of you and it made your heart twist just thinking back to it. You missed him so goddamn much. You understood he had lots of responsibilities...but you wanted your Steve back. It would be at least another two hours before he came home, and you pondered how exactly you'd talk to him. Communication was never an issue for you two before, but then again, you've barely had the time to communicate at all recently. That realization made you nuzzle your face deeper into the sheets, trying to stop yourself from crying any more. You had done more than enough of that already, and it wasn't helping you in the slightest.
But when you heard the lock of the front door click, your heart dropped. He was early. You tightened the grip on your phone, pretending to look busy as you heard his heavy footsteps come up the stairs a second later. A sliver of light filtered into your shared bedroom as Steve cracked the door open carefully, stepping inside your shared bedroom. "Sweetheart...? Hey, I'm home..." He said softly, and the distant 'hi...' you muttered in return made his shoulders slump as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Can...we talk?" He asked as he looked at you with a mixture of guilt and intent, causing you to put your phone away.
"Yeah, 'fcourse." You muttered, still not daring to meet his eyes just yet. He'd see that you'd been crying all day, whilst he was out being worked to the bone by S.H.I.E.L.D. He'd feel bad, and you didn't want that after he'd been through so much these past two months. But your boyfriend didn't like the fact that his girl couldn't even look at him, guilt washed over him at the sight of you avoiding his gaze. Shit, had he messed up that badly? He sighed, ashamed of how he must've made you feel today. "...can you please look at me?" He said in almost a pleading tone, inching closer so he could get a better look at you.
And you not being able to deny a single one of your lover's wishes, complied despite the urge to hide away. Steve felt his heart clench as he saw your puffy eyes look into his. He could always tell when you had been crying, no matter how small or obvious the signs and it killed him knowing he was the reason for it. He let his own gaze fall, not being able to hold yours anymore. “Sweetheart… I—“ he paused, letting out a sigh as he tried to think of where to even begin. “You know I love you, right?” He finally got out. “More than anything.” He continued. “And hurting you is the last thing I would ever want?” He questioned, his eyes finding yours again.
"I know, Steve." Was all you got out and he straightened his back. "I feel like there's a but...you're upset with me, aren't you?" He questioned carefully, to which you shook your head. "I...Not necessarily with you, just with the whole situation I guess. I feel...alone, Steve. These days more than ever." The look of guilt that washed over his perfect face was almost too painful to bear. His voice was barely above a whisper as he swallowed and spoke again. "Sweetheart...I'm so sorry I've made you feel that way, I just- I don't really have a choice in these things at the moment." It was a gentle reminder, one that you took seriously. "I know. And I'm not blaming you, love. But our fight earlier today and not seeing you for hours after...it did the opposite of making me feel better, ya know?"
Steve knew you were right. The fight had done absolutely nothing to help the relationship between you two. He sighed again. “I’m… I’m sorry about today. The fight… and everything else that led up to it. It’s… it’s been stressful, with work and everything—but you didn’t deserve that. None of it.” Your lover looked positively beat, exhausted and pained. And you hated it. "Do you wanna talk about it? About work, I mean?" You asked gently and Steve had to hold back the urge to reach out—to pull you close. To wrap his body around your and shield the two of you away from any and all troubles of the outside world.
But choosing to respect the space you might want instead, he took a breath, running a hand through his hair again. "There’s a lot of… changes happening at work." He said, trying to keep it as vague as he possibly could. "And I’ve been trying to make sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible… but…" he trailed off and you two continued to talk for nearly an hour, about everything. You listened carefully to every concern and burden of his, thankful that he'd trust you with all of it. Thankful that you had a partner, with whom you could just talk things out with. And when he's gotten every thing off his chest, you sighed deeply, offering him a gentle smile.
"Steve I...I'm so sorry love, that all sounds really difficult to deal with. I could never imagine... I'm here for you, you know that?" Steve had to physically stop himself from getting choked up at your words. He knew he didn’t deserve how caring you were towards him. Not after everything he had put you through the past month. He gave you a sheepish shrug, looking down at his hands. "I know you are, honey." He said quietly. "You’ve always been here for me. No matter what I put you through." You didn't like this, not one bit. The sweetest, most thoughtful man you'd ever met was beating himself up like he was some asshole boyfriend. "Oh, come on, bubba. Steve...you're everything I've ever wanted. And yes, we've been experiencing some bumps lately, but don't phrase it like you're treating me badly...because you're not. You never have."
"But I feel like I am." Steve admitted, letting out another breath as he leaned forward, putting his face into his hands. "For the past month, I’ve been so caught up in work—in keeping everything under wraps there—that I haven’t been focusing on the one thing that matters to me the most.” He looked up at you, his gaze full of guilt. "You." You shook your head, shuffling forward to gently cup his cheek. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't struggle with that. But it's a rough patch, work will clear up, right?" He hadn’t realized just how badly he needed your touch—to have you close to him until he felt your hand gently come up to his face. He leaned into the touch without hesitation, letting his eyes flutter shut.
“It… should be clearing up soon, sweetheart.” He said quietly, his head still tilting towards your hand. "Good, love. That's good. I can be patient for a little while longer." Steve nearly cursed himself at how his heart still fluttered with every pet name you gave him. The way you used them was always enough to make him crumble. His eyes opened again when he felt your hand slowly start to pull away, and he immediately grabbed for it, holding on to it with a firm, but gentle grip. "Don’t." He nearly whispered, looking up at you, almost desperately. Your breath hitched at his desperate tone and you opened your arms as if per reflex, leaning back against the headboard. "Come here, baby." You cooed.
He was moving towards in an instant, as if he'd just desperately been waiting for you to let him into your space again. His head rested on your chest as your arms barely managed to wrap around his broad frame, he could practically feel his heartbeat slowing down immediately. "I've missed you." He mumbled, nearly burying his face into your chest. "I've missed you too baby. So much." You cooed as your hand came up to gently play with his golden locks. Steve practically let out a muffled groan when he felt your fingers start to run through his hair, the feeling enough to almost make him start purring. He wrapped one of his large arms around your waist, pulling you closer. He was trying not to cling to you like a lifeline, but he was failing miserably.
He lifted his head slightly and moved to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your shoulder, before mumbling against your skin. “I don’t deserve you.” Again, what was with this specimen of a man thinking he was anything but perfect?! "Don't say that, please. Yes you do, every inch of me and more, bubba." Steve was silently thankful for the fact that he was still buried against your shoulder, because if you had been able to see his face, you would have seen him blush like a schoolgirl. As it was, he had to physically try not to whine as he nuzzled even further into you "I love you." He simply mumbled into your shoulder. God he was touch starved. "And I love you. So much." You smiled.
Despite the current tension that had been surrounding the two of you, Steve couldn’t stop the genuine smile that tugged at his lips as he listened to the words fall from your lips. He let out a shaky breath, pulling away from you enough that he could look at you. "Can I get one last thing off my chest real quick?" He asked suddenly, to which you nodded. He hesitated for a moment, taking in the way you were looking at him with nothing but softness in your eyes. "I…" he paused, letting out a sigh as he thought about his words. "I know I haven’t been around as much recently," he began, his hand gently rubbing circles on your side. "And it’s… it’s been pissing me off just as much as it’s probably pissing you off—"
"But I’ve missed you so damn much." He said with a deep exhale. "You have no idea how badly I’ve been missing you." Steve felt his walls crumbling as the words came tumbling out. "Every time I have a minute to myself, all I can think about is how badly I want to be with you—to just be home." He said the last word as if it physically pained him. You smiled, touched by his vulnerable confession before said smile turned into a wicked grin. "Thank you, for sharing that. Good to know I dictate your thoughts, baby." Steve was fully convinced you would be the death of him. Every word from you—no matter if you were being sarcastic or not—sent his heart thumping. "You always, always dictate my thoughts, sweetheart." He mumbled. "Don’t you know that by now?"
You chuckled and shifted your body towards his, wrapping your arms around his neck as you now lied face to face, inching closer. Steve felt every nerve go static as you leaned closer. His hands found your hips, tugging you closer so you were fully against him, his eyes glued to yours. He desperately wanted to lean forward and finally press his lips against yours, to kiss you with every ounce of pent up passion he had in his body. But he could also still vaguely remember the tension and hurt that had existed between the two of you since the morning. And he didn’t want to…push you. You read your man like a book. "Steve?"
He pulled himself out of his own head when he heard your voice, his gaze immediately honing in on you. "Hm?" His voice was hoarse, his eyes still deeply focused on you as you entranced him fully. "You're thinking about whether you can kiss me or not, right? After today?" His cheeks felt warm as he heard your words, knowing he wouldn’t be able to deny them. "That obvious, huh?" He teased, chuckling softly, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "No, I just know you, baby. Always thoughtful, always considerate, it's so Steve-y of you." You smirked. “Is that…. Is that a good thing, or…?” He asked, one of his hands subconsciously rubbing patterns into your hip.
"Baby, it's one of my favourite things about you." Steve’s heart skipped a beat, his fingers still gently rubbing against you, almost subconsciously. It was so hard for him to not take you by the chin and pull you into a searing kiss.
"Sweetheart?" He finally muttered, his gaze flicking back and forth between your eyes. "Hm?" The moment you made that little noise—so quiet, it was almost a hum—He was done. He gently took hold of your chin, tilting your head up just a little bit. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered, leaning in just a tad closer. Your eyes searched his and they were pleading, burning with love. "Please." You whispered. Steve’s breathing went shallow as he noticed the way you were looking at him. Wanting him. Craving him. And he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. He closed the remaining distance between the two of you, one hand still holding your chin, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist as he kissed you with so much love, you swore you'd implode.
The kiss was gentle—filled with passion and a hint of hesitation and need—as Steve tried desperately to convey just how much he had missed you in just one kiss. He desperately wanted to pull you closer—to feel every inch of you pressed up against him as he kissed you—but he still held back, knowing you were probably still unsure about him. "Baby?" You mumbled between kisses. He pulled away just barely, so he could look at you directly, pupils dilated, his breathing laboured. "Yeah?" He asked and gone was his sweet, gentle voice. It'd been replaced by a deep hoarseness, almost primal in nature. "Stop holding back on me. Never hold back on me." You spoke, almost as if it was an order.
Steve nearly cursed himself. How were you always so good at seeing right through him? But he wouldn’t hold back anymore, not when you were telling him not to. He let out a shaky breath, tugging you against him and gently pushing you onto your back, his own body looming over yours and you looked up at him as if he'd hung the stars. He leaned down, pressing his lips against your neck, kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach. "You drive me crazy." He mumbled, against your skin, before sucking a mark into the same place. You were going to be the end of him.
Steve groaned quietly, his face pressed against your neck, as he rolled his hips against you. "You have no idea what you do to me." He mumbled, his hand starting to wander a little further up your shirt, his fingers tracing the lace of your bralette. Steve’s brain was practically going into overdrive at all the soft noises coming from the back of your sweet lips at his touch.
But he needed more.
“Sweetheart? You're absolutely perfect, you know that?” He mumbled, his fingers slowly tugging the straps of your bralette down. That silver tongue of his would get him into trouble. "God, I love that sweet mouth of yours." You said with a gasp. Who knew Captain America was such a filthy sweet talker? He slowly continued to kiss his way down your chest, his own tongue not daring to miss an inch. "And I love using it on you." He mumbled, his words coming out almost like a growl. His hands had wandered, gripping your hips tightly as he started to roll his hips against you harder, desperately trying to get closer to you, trying for any friction he could get.
He continued to lavish attention on your chest, occasionally giving one side a particularly harsh bite, his tongue immediately soothing the skin afterwards. The sounds you were making, the gasps of his name were driving the man feral. When his lips found yours again to swallow your heavenly moans, he slid his hands down to the waistband of your shorts. He had to stop himself from ripping them off of you right then, he knew they were your favourite. Instead, he gently pushed your thighs further apart, settling himself between them fully, his hands still gently tugging at your pants. "Lift your hips up for me, baby." He mumbled against the skin of your stomach.
Steve’s mind went blank as he watched you following his instructions—obeying him, just like you always did when he asked you so sweetly . As soon as you lifted your hips up, he took the opportunity to quickly tug your shorts off, leaving you in just your lacey underwear. You'd bought it just for him, just for moments like these. And the thought drove him crazy. He sucked in a breath at the sight of you—half-undressed and flushed and perfect. His head was practically spinning.
He groaned as he gently pulled your underwear down, his eyes glued on the most intimate part of you. "God, you’re perfect." He mumbled, his voice low. He had every intention of taking this slow, to tease and unravel you—the way he always did. Because he knew he could, and he loved doing it. But he was impatient right now, it had simply been too long since he had to have his woman. The moment he took that first taste of you, his own eyes slid closed as he groaned. His large hands on your thigh to steady them, his tongue drew perfect patterns on your sweet spot. "Fuck, Steve...oh god, that's it, baby..."
The sounds that spilled from your lips were pure filth, his arousal was so evident through his grey sweats, that it was almost painful. To say he'd missed your taste was an understatement, the man had practically been starving. He could feel every tiny shiver and shudder that ran through you, your body arching against his face as he continued to taste you, to savor you. His tongue flicked against your clit, his eyes slowly shifting to looking up at you so he could watch your every reaction. The eye contact had your back arch off the mattress— your fingers were desperately gripping the sheets. You were unraveling for him. Steve groaned at the image, his tongue not leaving an inch of your wetness unexplored.
"Mmm...taste...so...fucking...good" He mumbled as the movements of his tongue got more aggressive with each lap. He was starting to feel your arch back off the mattress, your legs tremble and just when you made that cute face you made whenever you were just about to cum- he pulled away, breathing heavily as he smirked up at you from between your thighs. "Steve...!" You breathed out desperately "Why'd you stop?!" Your tone drove him crazy, so desperate- so needy for him. "Not yet, sweetheart," he replied, his voice gravelly. "Not yet." He settled himself over you again, gently pushing your legs further apart as he blanketed you with his huge body.
You hadn't even noticed him take off his pants, but your eyes widened with lust as you looked down to see him on full display. Fully erect and ready for you- you had to physically stop yourself from drooling. He felt so overwhelmed—the feeling of your skin against his, the way you were looking at him. He let out a shaky breath as he lined himself up against you, his dilated eyes meeting yours, silently asking for permission. You wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him closer and whining his name was all the confirmation he needed. He buried his face against your neck, letting out a low, almost feral sounding groan as he slowly pushed into you. Immediately, your nails dug into his broad back as you stifled a filthy moan.
God he had missed this. The feeling of you around him, the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly, the sounds you made, the way you breathed his name against his skin. "Fuck, baby...god- you're made for me." He groaned, trying not to lose his mind on the spot. Once he finally got himself somewhat under control again, he slowly started to move. He immediately buried his face against your neck again, his lips and tongue moving against your skin as he started a slow, steady rhythm. For once, he wasn't going to last very long, that much he knew. But he had one single goal for the night- he wouldn't come unraveled before you did.
He could barely hold back another groan when he saw the look on your face. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth open to let out quiet moans and little gasps. He tried to keep his pace steady, but he was beginning to struggle, desperate to feel you come undone around him. "Baby...wont- oh fuuuck. I won't...last long. ." He groaned out and that alone made you clench around him, making things much harder for the poor man. He could barely think straight. His senses were completely overloaded—the taste of your skin, the feeling of you around him, the way you were desperately screaming his name as his hips started snapping against yours.
He could feel himself nearing his breaking point. “Sweetheart,” he mumbled against your neck, “You need to come for me. Now." He sounded strained, positively ready to make a mess of himself, and you along the way. "N-now?" You whined out, as your eyes rolled back into your head with each one of his movements. Steve could barely hold back his release, your shared strained moans and panting filling the room. "Yes, baby. Now. " He drove into you harder, desperately chasing his release. "Need to feel you come for me. Come on sweetheart, you're right there." He let out a strangled moan as you finally started to fall apart beneath him, your body arching against his as you bit into his shoulder to muffle the unholy scream that ripped through you as you came. As if by command- god, the power he had over you. He didn’t stop or let up— continuing to drive his hips into you, chasing his own release.
It only took a few more seconds before he joined you in that shattering wave of pleasure. He let out a low, almost guttural sounding groan as he finally let himself come undone—his hips stuttering, his body shuddering above you as the evidence of his release spilled into you. Just after he'd ridden out his high, he collapsed down against you, his face buried in your neck, his body still trembling. You were both breathless, his body still trembling, and his heart was racing as he tried to come back done to earth.
He gently pushed himself up, so he could look down at you, but found that he was completely at a loss for words. You looked ruined. Flushed, smiling lazily, sweaty and absolutely perfect, panting as you tried to keep your eyes open through the sudden exhaustion. Steve couldn’t help but gently brush his knuckles against your flushed cheek, a warm smile spreading across his own face. "God. I’m so in love with you," he mumbled. You were too tired to answer, but the content hum you gave him was enough of an answer to him. He gently leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, then your temple—tracing a trail of kisses across your face.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He mumbled, his voice a little raspy as he now pulled you onto his chest, engulfing you in his arms. You chuckled. "Mmmm, I'm great. You?" He hummed against the top of your head, the sound almost like a soft chuckle mirroring yours.
"I’m amazing." He mumbled, his lips gently peppering soft kisses from the crown of your head, down to your forehead. "We should fight more often if it ends like this." He added, earning him a swat on the chest and a chuckle from you. God, you loved this man.
Winter Soldier X Reader "My mission's changed" Part 2-
Part 1 here (go read it now or the winter soldier will show up in your room at 3am, be very afraid.)
Summary: Y/n's world is turned upside down when she finds the Winter Soldier in her kitchen one night, demanding to hide out in her apartment. Terrified yet with no choice, she has to let the lethal stranger stay, telling him to hide when her boyfriend came around and always maintaining a fearful distance. As days pass, the soldier observes the disturbing reality of Y/n's life- her boyfriend’s constant abuse and cruelty. The once distant and lethal assassin begins to develop a protective fondness for her. Unable to witness Y/n suffer any longer, will the Soldier snap or stand by and disappear when his mission is completed?
Warnings: Verbally abusive partner, cussing, mention of weapons, slowwwwburn
You woke up to the shrill sound of your doorbell ringing and ripping you out of your sleep. On your day off, of all days. Someone was aggressively knocking and ringing over and over and over. The soldier in your living room had heard someone approaching before it even started, had anticipated it, eyes flicking over to the door as he cocked his gun. You on the other hand had been in too deep of a sleep to hear and just now shuffled out of bed, an exhausted mess seeing as though your night had been everything but calm. You carefully stepped into your living room, jumping back in horror as you saw him leaning by ther front door, as he cradled a gun in his large hand, still bearing that horrible mask. He must've clocked the horrified look on your face, so he lowered the weapon momentarily. "It's your boyfriend, I'm assuming. He entered the garage 4 minutes and 23 seconds ago." He spoke as he took two steps towards you.
Your eyes went wide in terror looking back and forth between him and the door, that was still being aggressively knocked on. "You have to hide!" You whispered frantically, looking around for the perfect spot to accommodate his large frame in a frenzy. "That wasn't the deal. He hasn't been briefed about our agreement yet." He said, not making any effort to move. "That, ugh! Please, he can't see you here now, I'll explain everything later. Just please, I beg, hide!" You whined desperately, and he eyed you coldly, his gaze unwavering before his eyes narrowing just the tiniest bit as he let out a huff. He gave you a final warning glare, before turning around and walking away without a word. He'd probably searched your whole apartment while you were asleep, knew of all the places to hide and all the exits to flee from. You hoped he'd hidden well. But then again, he said he was trained for shit like this.
You quickly brushed a hand through your tousled hair, straightening over your crumpled sleep shirt before opening the door nervously. "Fucking finally! Jesus, where you still asleep Y/n? You know how goddamn long I was stood out there?" Your boyfriend ranted as he pushed his way into your apartment, frustration seeping from each of his pores. "Anthony, I'm sorry. I didn't sleep much, seeing as though I stayed up all night waiting for you." You retorted tiredly, immediately regretting your words as he turned towards you, his eyes spitting pure venom. "Oh, did you now? Well, I was fucking working late, so don't even start bitching to me right now. I had a long night too, and just went home after, alright?" The soldier remained in his hiding spot, confused by the hostile atmosphere and the commotion in the living room. Weren't couples supposed to be disgusting and all lovey dovey or something?
"You look really rough, by the way, are you sick or something?" Anthony inquired, and you merely sighed. "No, I'm not sick, babe. Just tired, that's all." You replied in defeat, lazily making your way to the kitchen to make some coffee. Your boyfriend followed, not bothering to take of his shoes as his car keys hung from his hand loosely. Two signs that he wasn't planning on staying long. So you had to make this quick. "Hey, uh listen...about last night, I was hoping I could bring something up about that?" You carefully tested the waters and when he merely shrugged you went on as you waited for your coffee to finish brewing. "Well, it's happened quite a lot recently... You know, you just not showing up. And you're working a lot, I get that, but for future reference, would you maybe call me or shoot me a text next time so I don't have to stay up and wait all night?"
You had attempted to phrase it ever so carefully, but your heart dropped when you saw that once again, your boyfriend perceived normal communication as a personal attack. His eyes narrowed before he let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, mom. Do I have a curfew too, by chance?" You hated it. When he didn't take you seriously. "Anthony, I'm not in the mood to fight right now..." You started, but he was quick to interrupt you. "Well, neither am I! I came all this fucking way to visit you, and you're giving me shit for not texting you 400 times a day? Come on, seriously Y/n, get over yourself. You've barely even woken up and you're complaining already." Your eyes shot to the floor. "Okay, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm happy you came." You tried softening his mood.
"See? I'm happy I came too. I'm working late again today, but we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?" He asked and you simply nodded and gave him a tired smile. "Alright babe, gotta run. Love you." He said, pressing a halfhearted kiss to your temple before making his way out of your apartment. The second he stepped out and closed the door, the stranger appeared by your side. You flinched, as you hadn't even noticed how or where he'd emerged from. "Jesus!" You exclaimed, but he didn't show any reaction. "Sit." He merely ordered, eyes darting to a kitchen stool. You knew better than to argue, so you complied without so much as a second thought. He didn't sit, merely stood next to you, the only sound in the room the mechanical whirring of his freaky metal arm.
He towered in front of you, the only visible feature of his being his icy blue eyes staring down at you. "Explain. Or I'll drag him back here and kill him." His tone sent chills down your entire body. "W-what?" You choked out, frozen where you sat. The man in front of you seemed to get impatient now. "My plan requires him to be in on this, he lives here after all. Why did you have me hide?" He demanded. "I..." You started but couldn't string together a sentence, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "I lied....he doesn't live here." You confessed shakily, barely daring to meet his cold gaze. His eyes simply bore back into you, his demeanor unchanged. As if he were silently demanding for you to go on.
"I don't know, I just...I figured maybe you'd leave if you found out a male lived here. Thought that maybe..." You sighed. "...the 'boyfriend-line' usually works on guys, they usually get intimidated when they found out there's a man around." Only after you heard yourself did you realize how stupid you sounded. "Does that explain the men's boots outside your entrance? They look too big for your boyfriend." He asked you, surprising you by ignoring the fact that you'd lied to his face. "Uh, y-yes. I read online that sex traffickers or robbers avoid houses that show clear signs of males living there, so yeah..." Your voice was barely above a whisper as his terrifying gaze on you remained unwavering. "I am neither a trafficker nor a robber." He started. "But if those are the people you're afraid of, you can rest assured they won't get to you while I'm here." He said bluntly, even though he didn't quite understand your fear of unskilled, fragile criminals. "In return, I expect your full cooperation and enough space to fulfill my field duties." He added.
You could've sworn something stirred in you at his words. The broad, wall of a man in front of you saying you were under his protection- well, more or less, somehow soothed your overactive mind. Your boyfriend had always dismissed your nightly anxieties, had seldom made you feel like you were particularly safe or protected in his presence...but the masked stranger...god, what was wrong with you? This whole situation was messed up, you didn't know who he was or what exactly he was doing here! "Right...c-can I ask you one thing though?" After a second of hesitation, he gave you a curt nod. "The mask. The weapons. The surveillance and the secrecy. What...are you a hitman or something like that?"
Any other person would've shown a reaction to such an insane question. Not him though, he stayed completely monotone in his expressions. "Yes, something like that." That was all, all he gave you before deciding the conversation was over and turning around to walk to the windowsill he'd claimed as his personal armory. He pulled away the blanket he'd thrown over it to shield it from your boyfriends line of sight earlier, revealing a row of fine weapons and gadgets you'd never seen before. Not even in those fancy spy movies your boyfriend mansplained and made you watch with him. "I need a dry, clean rag." He bluntly spoke and you rushed to accommodate his request. Or better, his order. He merely nodded in recognition as you handed it to him, immediately turning to clean one of his dissected guns.
You had simply disappeared into your bedroom to keep a safe distance while he did his thing. About two hours sorting your laundry, journaling and scrolling on your phone later, the loud grumble of your stomach caught your attention. You'd forgotten to eat breakfast in the midst of all this commotion, and lunch hadn't been served yet either. Weighing your options, you realized you had to go back out there and face him if you wanted something to eat. With a heavy sigh and a shaky hand on the doorknob, you stepped out, his eyes immediately on you. "I-i was just going to make something quick to eat. Is that okay...? You carefully asked and he merely grunted, gracing you with another one of his curt nods before getting back to cleaning his guns.
Damn, he was still at it, you thought. He must be very precise with his work. You carefully stepped into the kitchen, gathering all your ingredients and supplies. Chicken and rice sounded good, it was quick and healthy, and you'd be out of here fast enough to leave the weird man and his guns alone. Cooking without your usual music blasting felt strange, but you supposed the quiet was soothing. The only sound, the clinking and clacking of his guns was almost...relaxing? Until his stomach too, rumbled and disturbed the tranquility. That's when it dawned on you. He must've been starving. You hadn't seen him eat anything yet. Would it be weird to cook something for the unsettling hitman who threatened his way into your apartment?
Another deeply defeated sigh came from you as you filleted a second, larger piece of chicken breast before neatly seasoning and grilling it. You figured it'd be good to be in his good graces. Or his "I won't kill you yet" graces, so you spread an extra large serving of herb rice on his plate. What a strange situation you were in, indeed. You awkwardly walked up to the man who carefully eyed your every sudden movement or approach. You could see the deep confusion in his eyes as you placed a full plate of food and a glass of water on the table next to him before retrieving your own from the kitchen. You stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as his eyes darted back and forth between you and the plate critically.
"Um, it's for you. In case you're hungry, I don't know." You could see a deep wrinkle form between his brows, one of confusion and...hurt?
His Pov:
What the hell? For me? He thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a warm meal, opting either for freeze dried, protein army-foods or the stale, mushy, mass cooked 'food' at Hydra that had gone cold by the time it reached his cell room. We're those...herbs? He'd long forgotten that food was meant to taste like something, made to be enjoyed. At Hydra, it was exclusively made and consumed for nutritional value. She had made this for him...what was the catch?
Y/n's POV:
You noticed the critical look on his face. "Don't worry, it's not like poisoned or anything. I'm not the hitman here, dunno where I'd even get my hands on poison. You would, I gather." You babbled awkwardly and stopping yourself before embarrassing yourself further. "Uh, anyway. I'll leave you to it then." You said before rushing to your room. The hitman on the other hand remained in his exact position, eyes focused on the plate before him. And you swore a small smile played on your lips when you heard the sounds of cutlery on ceramic coming from the living room. He was eating. And at quite a pace, as you could hear. Good. You couldn't explain it but cooking for others, even for serial killers apparently, was one of the few things that made you feel good about yourself.
You'd finished your food as well, only quite a bit slower than he did, before realising you should probably leave these godforsaken four walls of yours for a while. Maybe get some space from your new murderous roommate. And so you quickly slipped into something you could actually wear in public and made yourself look presentable. Your bag slung over your shoulder, you exited your room as his curious eyes immediately roamed over your now done-up form. "I'm visiting a friend, she's bartending at a bar nearby." You carefully said, looking for signs of hostility in his eyes. But nothing. He simply nodded before getting back to his guns. Strange. You were used to having to argue, over explain and bargain with your boyfriend if you wanted to go out, but the bloodthirsty hitman by your window seemed more liberal than him in that regard.
Letting one last glance roam around the space, you noticed he'd actually washed and dried his plate as it was currently sitting on a dish rack. It took you all your strength not to laugh out loud in shock. What was with this guy? Threatens to kill your boyfriend but washes his dishes? You quickly pulled open your front door to leave, before he got the idea to do your laundry or fix your broken cabinet, ha! But the jokes you told yourself in your head stilled as you stepped outside to find a second pair of even larger boots next to the ones you'd set up. They were his. What the hell? "Two pairs of boots are better than one, makes it look like two big males are living here. Keeps the scary men away, no?" He spoke loudly enough for you to hear by the door, eyes still trained on the cloth polishing his weapons as he caught you completely off guard.
And there it was again! That fucked up, weird flutter in your stomach at this terrifying enigma of a man being somewhat...thoughtful?! Hell no, you were just being delusional, you thought. What you didn't know, was that this was his way of thanking you for the meal you'd prepared for him. So you merely shrugged. "Sure." Before closing the door behind you and disappearing into the night. You were going to get positively wasted.
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