Summary: Bucky accidentally punches you in the face during a training session, which somehow leads to your first kiss and the promise of a date.
Words: 1 328
A/N: Very boring drabble that is kinda similar to Lift in terms of the layout. Tell me what you think and please request!
She ducked under his punch, getting back up just as quickly and trying to elbow his chest. He grabbed hold of her joint and pushed her back. As she came rushing back in for a straight punch to his face, his metal hand flew right to her jaw.
She staggered back before falling to her knees. Her hair fell in front of her face and a few strands stuck to her glistening forehead, a long groan escaping her.
“Oh fuck, Y/N. I’m so sorry!” Bucky panicked, surprised as he thought she would have been able to see through his techniques as always and dodged his incoming attack.
He rushed to her side and knelt beside her, wrapping his arm around her back and using his free hand to remove the hair from her face. She whined in pain, trying to force a smile to not make him feel so bad but not being able to. “Okay, that one hurts… I’m not gonna lie.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He carefully tilted her head to get better lightning on her jaw which was red, bruising and already swollen. “Fuck. That’s bad.”
“I don’t know if it’s anything serious, but I can taste blood?” She looked up at him. “Maybe that’s just normal. Also, my left ear is ringing, or it might be my entire head actually, I can’t tell the difference right now.”
Bucky kept repeatedly mumbling curses as he softly placed his bionic hand over the bruise. She winced in pain at first but the cooling of the metal was better than not having it there at all.
“Remind me to wear a hockey helmet for our next training session or something…” She began to push herself up from the floor. Bucky tried to help her by continuing to hold his arm around her back, which turned out to be very helpful.
“Woah!” He exclaimed as she almost fell forward, his grip of her tightening and keeping her on her feet. “You okay?”
“I just got punched in the face with a hand that’s literally made out of metal. Pardon me if I’m a little dizzy.” She chuckled, her voice strained from the pain radiating up her jaw and numbing the area around it. She turned to face Bucky, her hand carefully touching the swollen bump. “Does it look bad?”
“No.” He lied. “It looks alright.”
“Liar.” She could see straight through him, of course. She always could. “Oh man, and Tony’s birthday party is this weekend.”
“That’s five days away.” Bucky tried to remain hopeful.
She looked over at him, her eyes hooded and her eyebrows raised high, circulating the area where he had punched her. “By the sheer agony I’m in right now, I can tell this isn’t going to go away in five days.”
“I’m sorry…” He pleaded and she dropped her sarcastic attitude, feeling bad for the poor guy.
“I know you are. It’s okay. I’ve had worse. Remember when I got shot in the damn hand in Serbia? When I had to drive the car to the hospital with that hand, the gear lever nearly went through the bullet hole.”
He chuckled after seeing her smile at the brutal recall of a mission two years prior.
“Or when you went two weeks in pain because you thought your body was “healing slowly”, when in reality you had a completely broken arm?” He remembered and she nodded, quietly chuckling before suddenly closing her eyes, grabbing his hand. She pulled it towards her jaw and held it still over, leaning into it whilst still not looking.
Bucky watched in admiration as she dozed off for a few seconds in the comfort of his touch.
“Alright. I’m gonna call this a day. It’s getting late, I think. You must have punched my sense of time out of me.” She smiled and broke loose from him, heading for the gym door slowly.
“Maybe sleeping isn’t that good of an idea? You could have a concussion!” He warned, worried about her health truthfully.
“Don’t think so highly of yourself.” She joked, making it seem as if giving her a concussion had been something Bucky had strived for. He wanted to oblige and take her to Bruce, or anyone else that might be awake at two in the morning and have the skill to properly help her. “So goodnight, or good morning, or whatever.”
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Bucky alone in the gym, feeling more guilty than ever.
He was sat at the kitchen table, eating the scrambled eggs which surprisingly enough, Vision had cooked. Steve sat across Bucky, Peter beside Steve, and Tony and Natasha on both short ends when Y/N came sulking down.
“Good morning- Jesus Christ.” Steve gasped as he got a look of her. “What happened to your face?”
The entire left side of her jaw was covered in a rich, purple bruise. As she smiled, she clearly did so more on the right side than the other. “Why don’t you ask Mr. I-Have-A-Metal-Arm?” She said, pointing to a Bucky.
“I’m so sorry.” Bucky repeated and she tried to smile wider but winced, letting it fall back.
“I know, Buck. Heard you the first, hundred, times.” She attempted to reassure him although it had little effect. “You better buy me something amazing to cover this up tho.”
“I don’t think anything can cover that up. That’s brutal.” Natasha said, her nose scrunching up in slight disgust at the vicious color of Y/N’s jaw.
“Thanks.” Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, and taking a seat by the table. Vision left the stove and came to her aid with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “And an honest thank you to you, Vis.”
“You want some ice for that?” Tony tried to help as Y/N grabbed the chilled glass of orange juice in front of her and held it against her jaw. She shook her head subtly and shut her tired eyes, propping her elbows on the table and leaning her head against her free hand.
“I’m good.” She said and pulled herself together, opening her eyes widely to wake up and taking a sip of the orange juice already by her mouth. “I’ll avoid training sessions with Bucky for awhile though.”
“Cut it. I’m alive, aren’t I? Still breathing. Heart’s still pumping.” She said and shoved a fork full of bacon in her mouth. The breakfast carried on, following up with an overly large glass of chocolate milk on Y/N’s part. They all chatted, bickering as usual, before everyone retreated to their own corner of the Tower to continue their days separately.
As Y/N made it to her room, there were two knocks on the door. She didn’t have to guess who it was. She knew it was Bucky and she knew he would try to apologize once more.
She pulled the door open and barely had time to confirm it was him before a pair of soft lips crashed upon hers. She staggered backwards and Bucky broke loose, eyes blown wide. “Let me take you out to dinner, as an apology for punching you.”
“And you had to kiss me to ask me out!?” She questioned, out of breath. Bucky shrugged.“
“No, I just wanted to.” He said like it was the most normal thing in the world to walk around kissing.
“Well damn…” She closed the space again and savored another kiss, sighing in relief. She tried to not cause herself too much pain, letting him do most of the moving.
“Don’t you dare say that word one more time or I swear to god I’ll punch your jaw.” She threatened and he chuckled, lips hovering in front of hers.
“It wouldn’t leave as much as a scratch.” His lips curled around hers, tasting the sweetness lingering to them.
Let me start off by saying that I got inspiration for this post from another post about the disillusionment of a black woman about dating within the black community, expressing that too many black men aren’t attracted to black women and ideally go for non black women. Which got me thinking that with all this recent promotion of black couples via social media, I feel like we can’t just focus on the pros of black love, but we must also bring to light the darker, behind the scenes reality for black women finding love among black men who directly and indirectly express their refusal to be with black women.
I get it, the praise for black love has to do with unifying the black community by saying, “See, black men and women DO love each other.” And yes, I believe it. I don’t believe the photos I see of black couples on social media are fake or anything, but can we also bring to light female black singles and how their singleness is affected by the presence of misogyny noir and anti blackness among black men? Dating in general is hard, but imagine how dating is as not only a black person, but a black woman who does not fit Eurocentric beauty standards (such as light skin, light eyes, loose hair, slim facial features, etc.) Often times I commonly see these types of “conventionally” attractive black women paired up with black men more so than mono-racial looking black women - I wonder why?
As a mono-racial, dark skinned black woman who grew up in predominantly white spaces, from my own experiences on and offline, I can confidently say that a lot of black men don’t consider me to necessarily be their “ideal” type based off black and white standards of beauty, and I feel like black and white standards of beauty go hand in hand for obvious reasons having to do with cultural assimilation, a history of colonization, and so on. Which brings me right to another point I’d like to make about looks equating to superiority or inferiority. Sure, you can’t judge a book by the cover yet too often black men do so, falling prone to the stereotypes associated with non black ethnicities of women - so it’s not just about non black women meeting a Eurocentric standard of beauty easier than most black women. It’s also about how black men view them as less “controlling” than black women, therefore more agreeable and “nicer” JUST due to ethnicity and ethnicity alone. Mind you, I’m not saying black men who date outside their ethnicity all have agendas behind their attractions, BUT I am still iffy about their reasonings for “racial preferences.” I think now is a good time to quote myself from the post about the disillusioned black woman:
“And whenever I see a black woman who exclusively dates outside the black community I feel like it’s not for the same reasons black men often do it - for black women who either often or only date non black men I feel like I have more understanding for them because of the treatment they receive from black men who often have no issue with voicing how undesirable black women are to them. That gives black women more authority of their love lives by expanding their dating pool (since the lot of black women go for black mates) vs. black men who often go for non black women for superficial, anti black reasons rooted in sexism. So when a black woman says “I don’t date black dudes” I don’t see it as excusable but at the same time I understand her reasons for doing so more than a black man refusing to date black women. I feel like black women are often looking for genuine love, the kind of love too many black men can’t give them because of their racial baggage, while said black men are oftentimes looking for trophies to use to spite black women and make non black men “envy” them for “stealing” their women.”
You read it right. I do feel like a lot of black men aren’t capable of loving black women the way they need to be loved, which has to do with seeing their blackness in the same way that they see their own and not letting gender be the deciding factor concerning superiority vs. inferiority, especially if said black women don’t fit the Eurocentric standard of beauty. I will say that non black men aren’t the “golden ticket” of black women in order for them to find love - there’s undeniably issues of anti blackness and sexism in all communities. But at the same time since non black men aren’t hit the hardest by racism, since anti blackness is global, they do have less baggage from that and less pressure to socially conform in my eyes. Because really, I believe more non black men are attracted to black women more so than they let on, it’s just that their cultural ties such as pleasing family and community hold them back from acting on this attraction confidently.
We really do need to have a real conversation about misogyny noir alongside “black love.” Because part of the way black men are going to love black women unconditionally has to do with an awareness of their own social conditioning and their own perceptions of black womanhood.
There in the middle of the hangar, sat Lance surrounded by a hurricane of black that swirled faster with each passing second. His eyes were squeezed shut, not seeing the paladins, yet they all felt like he just knew. It was when he opened his eyes that all hell broke loose.
Lance’s eyes glowed a pale blue amidst the chaos of the black storm surrounding him. He almost seemed to stare at the team unseeingly, his eyes shining unnaturally.
“Lance?” Shiro asked,”…What’s going on?” He didn’t reply, the only movement he made was the slow blink of his eyes. “Buddy, I need you to work with me ok? What is happening?” Shiro tried again, only to be greeted by silence. The team was beyond freaked out at this point, because where the Lance they knew? What was this, this thing in front of them?
“Lance you better knock it off! This isn’t funny man!” Hunk yelled, taking a step forward, “Let us help you!”
Lance cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “Blue is someone here?”
If the team thought they were freaked out before, then damn, they were terrified right now. Lance’s voice was creepy, it was as if someone layered his voice a thousand times, each one seeming farther away than the one before it.
“Can he not hear us?” Pidge whispered, her voice sounding smaller than usual.
“Blue can you please tell Lance that we’re here to help?” Shiro asked, but the Blue Lion was not listening. Her eyes were fixed on Lance and Lance alone, who was now slowly standing up, the storm around him condensing to two black orbs that sat in each of his hands.
“Whoever it is, can you please tell them to leave? I’ve almost got this part down! See,” Lance said, dispersing the two orbs into multiple orbs that circled his head,”I’m finally getting the hang of this thing!” The team stared at the menacing blackness that loomed over Lance, who seemed unaffected by the eerie energy it was giving off.
“That’s it, the show is over,” Keith growled, stomping over to Lance determinedly.
“Keith no! We don’t know what’s going on!” Shiro shouted, reaching out for Keith, only to just miss him. He could only watch as Keith made his way to Lance and grabbed his arm.
The movement above Lance’s head stopped as he turned to face Keith, his eyes still glowing that pale blue.
“Snap out of it Lance! You need to tell us what’s going on!” Keith shouted, gripping Lance’s arm tighter.
“Keith? W-what are you doing here?” Lance stuttered, his eyes going wide and his breath beginning to stiffen. “Blue? Why is he here?” He began to shake, the black orbs above him started to reform into a storm. “Y-you need to let go of me Keith. Y-you n-n-need to let go of me r-right now.”
“Like hell I am!” Keith yelled, “You need to let us help you Lance!”
He didn’t seem to be listening, his eyes gaining that unnatural glow to them once again. The hand touching Lance’s arm began to burn, causing Keith to let go briefly. The effect was already beginning, however, despite Keith letting go. Big fat tears welled up in his eyes and hole seemed to form in his chest, this aching feeling setting root within him.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m sorry Keith, I-I didn’t mean to give that to you, let me help ok? Let me just-” And just like that, the feeling was gone, contentment taking its place. Keith could only stare at Lance with his mouth open in shock. The glow began to dim from his eyes, returning them back to normal and the darkness practically vanished in moments.
“How the hell did you just do that?!”
“Umm… what do you mean?” Lance asked, playing with his fingers.
“What do I mean? How about the whole, my-emotions-just-went-from-fucking-depressed-to-sunshine-and-rainbows in two seconds??” Keith shouted, causing Lance to shrink into himself even more.
“Um.. well you see-”
“Hold up, wait just a moment. What just happened. Like right now, in this moment, what is going on?? Because there was a huge storm above your head like a minute ago and now its gone??? You had glowing blue eyes and did something to Keith?? What is happenning?????” Hunk interrupted, stepping in between Lance and Keith.
“What the fucK?? Don’t give me that look Shiro, because I just watched some freaky shit happen. How did you even do that? When did you even start doing that? Could you always do that? What even is that? What-” Pidge rambled, gesturing around her as Lance refused to meet any of their eyes.
“All right, how about we all give Lance some space ok? Let’s all go to the lounge and talk about this peacefully, alright?” Shiro intervened, going to place a hand on Lance’s shoulder before hesitating. “We’re going to need you to tell us what’s going on, ok Lance?”
Lance continued to stare at the floor, simply nodding before leaving the hangar.
Lance was in a state a shock at the moment. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was, what idiot lets their biggest secret get discovered that easily? He barely even put up a fight and now here he was, sitting in the lounge, about to explain to the team how much of a screw up he was. He let out a sigh and stared at the empty couches in front of him. Maybe he could just take their anger away so they wouldn’t kick him off the team?
No, that would just prove he’s more pathetic than he already was. For once, Lance wished he couldn’t feel, that all these dark emotions would disappear like he had done for others in the past.
“Lance can you explain to all of us what happened in the hangar?”
“Well umm… I was practicing,” Lance said, twiddling his fingers nervously.
“Practicing?” Allura questioned.
“Yeah I was practicing my…powers. Trying to make them stronger I guess.” He refused to meet anyones’ eyes, choosing to stare at his fingers instead.
“And what are these powers?” Shiro probed, leaning forward a bit,”What are you able to do?”
“I can, I can… control emotions. Not like that! Like I can take away emotions and kinda harvest them I guess? And replace the emotions I took away with different ones,” Lance clenched his fist, forcing himself to explain further to avoid having to look at his teamates, his friends. “I was trying to put them into a physical state, so I could use them in combat and just to get them out of me. I’ve never tested one of the orbs on someone, but I know if you were to touch one you’d feel all the emotion pent up in there.” He created a small one, reaching inside of himself for that energy that was always there, ignoring the slight gasp that came from Allura. Lance shrugged half-heartedly, “It’s something I’ve been able to do since I was fifteen.”
“Have you ever…took some of our emotions?” Hunk asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder.
“I uh…yes. I just, I couldn’t stand knowing you guys were upset and that I could do something about it. Everyday I could feel your emotions and I just felt so, so guilty that I wasn’t doing what I could to help!” Lance spit out bitterly, rubbing a hand through this hair.
“Lance… you shouldn’t have done that. Those were our emotions and you shouldn’t just take them from us without even telling us!” Keith yelled, standing up, “You had no right to make that decision!”
Lance looked up at them all, his eyes beginning to glow once again. “What did you want me to do? J-just sit there and let you feel that pain, watch as it festered and boiled inside of you? How could I do that to a person, to my friends?” Lance clenched his fists, his eyes slowly turning to that pale blue color. “Why can’t you just let me feel useful for once?”
"You’re mister J’s new obsession, Sugar” 1/3- Bruce Wayne x Reader
Summary : You have been married to Bruce for quite some years now, and you both knew it was inevitable that you’d get in danger one day…but you really never expected the Joker to start to be obsessed with you. CHAPTER 1/3.
Warnings : mentions of sex, also, Bruce is “old” if that bothers you in any way…If your like me and have a thing for older guys, then carry on please.
Looking at yourself in the mirror of your bathroom, you groaned and turned around to glare at your husband that was taking a shower. He immediately felt that you were staring, but to his disappointment, it wasn’t for the reason he hoped for…
-Is something wrong dear ?
-Yes Bruce, something’s wrong. How old are you ?
-Just answer my question honey.
-…Hum, 46 ?
-Yes. 46. You’re 46 years old.
At the way you were looking at him, mad as Hell, standing in the frame of the shower door that you just violently swung open, billionaire ex-playboy superhero Bruce Wayne got kinda worried. He was trying to figure out what he did that could have pissed you off that much, as you were really difficult to annoy, almost never getting angry…But boy when you were angry, it was scary. Apparently now though, you were more annoyed than mad. So he was trying to remember what he could have done.
Warnings: drinking, unprotected sex (use a condom!)
AN: The other day I heard Jay-Z’s “I Just Wanna Love U (Give it to Me)” and I got the idea for this. It’s really my first attempt at smut and… truth is, I’m not sure how it is. Your feedback is appreciated!
I’ve tagged the usual people but if you’re not comfortable reading smut, I won’t be offended in the least.
It was a well deserved night off and you found yourself at a club - of all places! - with the team. Nat and Wanda had coerced you into going and surprisingly, you were actually enjoying yourself.
You were reluctant to dance choosing rather to lounge in the VIP room that came along with having Tony Stark as a friend. Every so often, Nat or Wanda would come and try to drag you out to the dance floor but you were stubborn, insisting that you were waiting for the right song to come on.
Suddenly, you jumped up and made your way to the dance floor. You really liked this song! Wanda and Nat shrieked their hellos (everyone had been drinking) and you started to lose yourself in the song.
So I remeber our shop teacher was a loon. First of all, the class he taught was called Woodshop. His name? Mr. Wood. He was downright scary when he wanted to be. If he saw you running in the halls he would yell at you in German (terrifying). If you were goofing off in his class, he would take out his glass eye and throw it at you. How did he loose his eye? A woodshop accident. He also graded everyone’s first project (a birdhouse) by throwing it against the wall. If it stayed intact, you passed. He was my favorite teacher.
summary: reader feels weak and useless around the pack pairing: younger!reader x stiles stilinski word count: 950 (sorry it’s kinda short) notes: this was originally requested by someone on my deleted account (i’m so sorry i forgot who it was!) and it’s been like 2 months since this was requested i’m such a bad person listen to: weak - wet
“How’s my little pumpkin doing?” Stiles greeted you at his locker with open arms and a wide smile.
“You’re pumpkin is tired. Very.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you accepted his embrace, rubbing your head on his soft sweater, as you took in his scent of a fresh summer night’s air, leather, and mojito mint. “And I’m not little, I’m almost as tall as you.” You pouted into his chest.
“Yeah, sure you are, I’m 6′1 and you’re… what, 5′5?” He laughed as he placed his chin on top of your head.
“Whatever…” Clearly annoyed, you shrugged yourself out of his hold and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Scott and Kira.
“Dude, you better not forget about tonight.” Scott looked at Stiles with knowing eyes.
“Wha- Scott. Obviously I won’t.”
“Wait, what’s tonight?” Interrupting their conversation, you looked up at all three of them with eager eyes.
“Uh? What’s tonight? N-nothing’s tonight…? (Y/N), what are you talking about.” Stiles exchanged nervous glances with Scott and Kira.
“Stiles, Scott literally just told you to not forget about tonight. Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?” You started to get suspicious. And annoyed. And slightly mad. Stiles just started senior year, and you?
Well, you just started sophomore year. The two year gap between you didn’t seem to bother Stiles, but it definitely bothered you. A lot more than anyone could know.
Whenever the pack would “playfully” tease you about your age difference, you laughed and pretended to take it lightly. But you could feel it deep in your chest. You feel weird; awkward, to be 16 years old and dating someone who’s 18. It just didn’t feel right. Of course, you never really took any of those feelings to heart, because you just loved Stiles too damn much. You cared for him and cherished him like no one has ever before, and knowing how much it would hurt him to see how you really felt about being teased, you kept your emotions hidden.
“Well, I mean, I, uh-” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“We’re really sorry (Y/N), it’s just that, you’re, uh, you’re not… wait, let me phrase that differently. We’re going to find the Dread Doctors’ lair and we really don’t want anyone getting hurt. Especially you.” Kira smiled softly and placed her hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. You sighed unhappily, and rubbed your jaw with your hand.
“What is it, am I- am I too weak? I’m apparently so much younger than you guys, that I can’t even take care of myself. I’m just a pathetic teenage girl who doesn’t know anything about the supernatural and I’m just going to slow you down, is that it?!” you voice rose with every speaking word and Kira flinched.
“What? No, it’s not-”
“Ugh!!“ You yelled out, frustratedly gripping your hair. Stiles, Scott, and Kira were taken aback, and everyone else walking in the halls stopped what they were doing and looked at you weirdly. Letting out a deep breath, you rubbed your hands over your face and ran to the parking lot, where Stiles’ jeep would be, a pool of tears piling up on your cheeks.
“(Y/N)!” Stiles ran after you, and you deeply wished that you lived closer to the school so he didn’t have to drive you here everyday.
Stopping at his car, you faced the window and looked inside it. On the jeep’s dash, you saw a picture Stiles took of you when you both went star-gazing with Malia and Lydia. A shaky sigh left your lips as you wiped away your tears with your sleeves.
“(Y/N), what’s the matter with you?” Stiles turned you around by your wrist and placed his hands on either side of your face.
Knowing that you would ball your eyes out if you started talking, you bit the inside of your cheek and just frantically shook your head.
“(Y/N), no, no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry; if you cry then I’m gonna cry, (Y/N)…” Stiles leaned forward and rubbed his nose affectionately with yours. Finally plucking up the courage, you began talking.
“Stiles, i-it’s just that I feel so weak sometimes. When you guys all start making fun of me ‘cause of my age, or holding me back from trying to help; I just hate that feeling, Stiles. I hate it so much. I want to be useful, I want to do something to help. I’m not a werewolf or kitsune or banshee; I’m human. I can’t do any of the things they can, o-or even fight for myself. It’s like I constantly feel like someone’s protecting me, and I feel grateful for that, I honestly do, but sometimes I just want to be able to do something on my own, you know? Stiles, I’m sorry–“
You were cut off as Stiles grabbed you by your shoulders and engulfed you in a giant embrace. A sudden wave of tranquility washed away the anxiety and pain, and you were left a molten mess in his arms.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles’ voice cracked, as a stray tear slipped loose from your eyes.
“Because what, (Y/N)?”
Pulling out of his embrace, you wiped the tears off his face with your sleeve, and prepared to say what you’ve been meaning to say for the longest time. You took in a deep breath and opened your mouth.
Warnings: Strong sexual content. Public Sex. This is really filthy okay.
Words: 2, 919.
a/n: Basically you and Jimin have sex in a movie theater. This ruined me.
“Jimin, I’m not sure about this..”
With a wary gaze from the deserted back
row of the medium sized theater, you looked upon the other twelve
people occupying once empty chairs. The closest to you was a couple
sitting three rows in front, directly in the middle and not much
older than you and your very persistent boyfriend.
“They can’t see us, as long as you keep your pretty mouth shut for me.”