Leave Me Be ( Former Steve Rogers X Reader ; Bucky X Reader)

Leave Me Be ( Former Steve Rogers x Reader ; Bucky x reader)

Hello people of Tumblr ! I’m Hazel and i’ve been a tumblr user for quite awhile, but i’ve decide to give it a try and post some content. I’ve always love letting my imaginations run wild and then pour them into stories. If not these imaginations can sometimes shift into noises. So this is my first original post and my story. i hope you enjoy and love my idea as much as i do. However, you don’t have to be mean if you don’t like. If you like this story and want me to continue, please please please don’t be shy and feel free to reach out to me because i love connecting with those who enjoy and share the same idea/ content as i do. I was planning on turning this story into many chapters and post them on Wattpad. 

The reason i poured this idea into story is because as silly as it sounds i haven’t been able to move on from Avengers: End Game since Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I love Steve Rogers, I felt in love with him since Captain America : The First Avenger so when i watched End Game in theatre, i was utterly emotional when Steve didn’t come back, and i had to restrain myself from crying. Crying because why threw his friendship and team under the bus just to save his best friend but then eventually left him and also happy that he’d finally get his own happily ever after that he’d been yearning for. 

So i decided what if during those years when Steve lived in the present days, he had a long term relationship but left her because of the fairytale he had always wanted. I know i made it sounds like Steve is very selfish but i’m trying to work with the original story line. I mean where’s the fun in changing the story aight? And also this bish right here is a sucker for hopeless romantic and angsty angst. So if you are like me, i welcome you with open arms :) Personally, i think this is a more realistic reaction towards the situation and i tried to put myself in her shoes and imagine how i’d react when someone i trust with all my heart for so many years leave me just like that. PLEASE DON’T BE MEAN IF YOU DON’T LIKE THIS. 

UPDATE : Chapter 2 has finally been released. XOXO, Hazel. 

Disclaimer: Very angst ( for the author, but maybe not for y’all readers out there); horrible grammatical error. English is definitely not my first language

Characters: Former Stever Rogers x Reader ; Bucky x reader

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Words can’t even describe the ache and the feeling of emptiness in my heart. The sound of rain pitter patter fail to soothe my aching soul and mind. Hands holding the book whilst staring down and eyes scanning at the same sentence repeatedly and still incapable of fathoming it. My mind is fully occupied with all the memories I have spent with him but can’t cease replaying the same scene again.. and again..

First day of everything is always nerve wrecking whether it be school, college, and work…

Groaning internally, today happens to be both, first day of university AND work…

Just my luck...

Both hands trying to balance out the tray which hold beverages that were filled full to the brim. Sighing in annoyance and wondering to myself why on earth they always have to fill it to the brim considering there might be some little spillage and causing nuisance to both customer and the waitress. Maneuvering myself through tables whilst trying to poise the tray. Eyes scouring from one table to another while delivering the refreshments to the designated customers and caught on a sight of a particular man who didn’t seem to belong in this period. His appearance, body language and style were considerably outdated.. Hmm.. That’s a tad too harsh I guess, maybe old-fashioned to say the very least. Adorning in white and brown checkered shirt, covered by a seemingly vintage reddish brown leather jacket, sandy blonde hair parted to the side. Or maybe he was just a vintage avid.

Catching brief glimpses of his face every now and then, when he looked up from his sketch book, he turned out to be a very decent looking man regardless of his outdated fashion. A pair of nicely groomed eyebrow, high nose bridge, prominent and sturdy jawline, and an irresistible pink plump lips. Wrinkles formed between his eyebrows indicating that he was fully engrossed in his sketch.

Walking towards the beverage counter to replace the tray with coffee pitcher to offer refill and my eyes instantly felt upon the table that was occupied by the blonde man considering his coffee mug was desperately in need of refill. However, he seemed to be very oblivious of it. I decided to approach his table.

“Hello sir, would you like me to refill your coffee? “

“Oh! Erhm… sure”, he looked up from his sketch book briefly and etched on the paper was the realistic looking café and vicinity from his outlook.

I couldn’t help but interrupted his train of thought, “that’s a wonderful sketch you did there sir...”

Then he looked up to me, smiled sheepishly and said “erhm.. Thanks, I guess it helps me familiarize with the place. I’m quite new to the area.”

I felt bad for prying even though I didn’t mean to, so I apologized.

“I’m sorry… didn’t mean to pry on your work.”

Then I made the biggest mistake of looking into that pair of ocean blue eyes. There was laced with lost beneath those warm blue eyes as if a part of him was missing.

Those blue eyes…

Those blue eyes feels like home.

It felt like home for 8 years…

Whenever I am feeling low, I look into those eyes and I’d feel at ease.

Now staring into the glass window, I see fat droplets of rain drop sliding down the glass but that perspective gradually distorted into my own reflection. My own pair of eyes staring back at myself. Cold, void, broken and utterly lost. Tears gliding down my cheeks and slowly turning into sobs. How dare he just leave me behind after those 8 years we have been through together and move on with a past phantom whom he came across when collecting those stones. Those 8 years relationships are gone, just like that. Just the thought of that triggers my mind even more. Shoulder shudders from failing to muffle my own cry.

A week has gone by and I am still struggling to get my own shit together…

Shit…

Even such word reminds me so much of him. The thought of saying that word out loud makes me chortle darkly, Steve never fails to retort to those who swear like drunken sailors including me, not that I swear a lot but sometimes it’s more of a force of habit per se. He would always give me the disapproving look with a glint of mischief within those ocean blue eyes whenever those words chortled out of my lips.

A week after Steve left his shits behind, everyone seems to find a way to move on as time passes, everyone but me … and Bucky, his best friend since childhood.

The one he promised till the end of the line…

The one he saved while throwing friendships and teamwork under the bus just so he could save his god damn so called best friend since childhood.

After all those sacrifices he made, he left Bucky just like that.

It boils my blood just the thought it. Even with all those horrendous experiences Bucky had gone through, he handled them surprisingly well. Much better than me. I thought to myself that maybe he’d gotten used to such harsh predicament and reality…

Drying my tears with the edge of my, his, dark blue oversized cardigan sleeve. Head pounding from straining too much tears. Forcing my legs to stand and stripping myself to only thin camisole and panties. Laying upon the cold king size bed in a fetal position, back facing his side of the bed and facing the huge glass window staring into the void.

The feeling of cold, empty bed somehow bring me into tears again. Whimpers slowly turned into chocked sobs … then eventually giving in and bawling my eyes out, heart continues to wrench and shrivel.

Recalling back to those moments where everyone would throw me pity smiles, empathy hugs when walking past them. Clint, the ever wonderful man, offered me to move in with his family because he knew how it felt to lose your other half. But I turned down considering it would be fiddly to live under the same roof with a wholesome family and constantly feeling like a burden to them.

Eventually Bruce encouraged Bucky to move in with me considering Bucky happened to not have a place to stay after he was tracked down and constantly being on the run with Steve and Sam when he was accused of taking the live of the late Wakandan King and being hunted down. Bruce figured we would try to help each other to heal or at least ease the pain considering we were very close to Steve. I wanted to declined, because even looking at Bucky painfully reminds me so much of Steve. But I didn’t have the guts to do so, unlike him. So I agreed half-heartedly and tried to move on.

I didn’t even bother to budge when I heard the soft creaking of door opening, knowing fully well who it is. Heart wrenching sobs slowly subsiding into mere whimper. Footsteps softly padded towards the bed, then the bed dipping next to me. Bucky’s human arm carefully and protectively enclosed over my waist, chin rested upon my head, chest pressed against my back, his umpteen attempts within this week trying to soothe my gnawing pain in my heart.

“H-h-he’s not coming back, is he? Did that prick even try second guessing his decisions?” I whispered, still trying to muster up all the strength that’s left in every fibre of my body, tears wetting my pillow.  

“I’m sorry, Doll… “

Doll… even the pet name reminded me of Steve, he would sometimes call me Doll, but Sweetheart more often than not.

“I tried talking some sense into him, but he was very adamant of his decision. That punk…I’m really sorry…” he murmured softly, his voice tinted with despair.

“Doll… tell me what to do… I can’t bear seeing you breaking apart like this and I am running out of ways to numb your pain…” nose buried in my hair, inhaling while tightening his hold over my miniscule body.

A pregnant pause lingered before sucking in as much air as if my life depends on it whilst sniffling.

“I wish I never even met him… If I never knew him, none of this would happen and I wouldn’t be weeping like crazy weakling… Sometimes I wish I was one of you guys, one of the Avengers team, so my mind doesn’t have to constantly wonder off and compare myself with Peggy every night when I sleep next to Steve in this very bed...”

“Doll… don’t-“

“I knew this would happen from the beginning when he told me about the time heist excursion, trekking down the past. And I was right… Sometimes I would caught him by accident looking at Peggy’s picture that’s tucked in his compass but I was trying to be a good partner, so I remained silent, pretended it didn’t happen and dismissed it. But it happened more often when it’s nearing the time travelling mission, as if he was hoping …expectantly… “sighing hopelessly as grief and anger slowly consumed my thought, my voice quivering while tears started to form again, blurring my sight. And so I continued to ramble while Bucky continued to listen attentively.

“I mean who wouldn’t want to be with Peggy? I am certain she such a strong woman in her time, I guess your time as well. Working alongside the opposite gender in the army when female were scrutinized even for voicing their own opinions at that time. One time I tried to beg Tony into recruiting me as part of the team while Steve was at a mission in D.C after I learnt about Peggy …because I know he would be against it and disappointed in me for thinking such way. Alas, Tony hesitantly dismissed me, saying it wasn’t his place to make the decision considering Steve was the Head of the team, the Captain. And he also said Steve would love me regardless of my status as a civilian. I refused to believe him, but what options did I have? Nick Fury would never take me seriously, thinking that it might be merely silly infatuation over Captain America and wouldn’t take matter seriously in the long run. So I thought why not give it a rest for a year or two and maybe eventually I’ll forget about it considering I was only 21, freshly graduated from university a year earlier with a GPA of cum laude, very optimistic with the future laid ahead of me. I figured if I couldn’t be as strong as Peggy maybe I could be smarter than her, so at least I have something to pride on.” My face broke into bitter smile while reminiscing the memory.

“I was 18 when I first met Steve. Freshly graduated from high school and went straight to university. I was such an optimistic kid, head filled with high hopes and dreams. I started working at a local coffee shop in New York on my first day of university, that’s where I met Steve. The way he look at his surrounding with those blue eyes studying his vicinity was very adorable… like a lost puppy. After that encounter, we remained friends … and then close friends… because we decided I was too young for anything other than friendship. So we kept our friendship tight for 2 years. By the time I reached 20, I was eager to be more than friends, I’d constantly left subtle hints here and there, and eventually he got the clue but he insisted he was not the right man for me. He said I was young, beautiful and pure why go for a man like him. I practically burst into tears right then and there due to the rejection and humiliation, so I begged him to at least give me a chance… to prove him wrong…That jerk left me hanging for a week then came back banging on my door in the middle of the night while I was studying for finals, looking like lost puppy with those big blue eyes begging for forgiveness for giving me the cold shoulder.” I chuckled grimly.

“I was so annoyed, angry and ready to give him the boot, but how could I say no to those blue eyes looking like a lost sick puppy. He finally decided to give it a shot and said he did feel the same way from the very beginning ever since we grew closer but had to restrain himself from doing so because he thought it was inappropriate for an old man to chase after a much younger woman. But I didn’t care, I swear I was over moon that day… I couldn’t even focus on my study anymore. Sometimes I wondered to myself whether I coerced him into this relationship or…”

“Doll… stop thinking such way… stop thinking so low of yourself…” Bucky interrupted.

“But…”

“He wouldn’t be coming looking for you in the MIDDLE of the night for nothing… Trust me on this one, doll. I’ve known him since childhood, even better than himself… I’m sure he loved you and just needed a little push, maybe he didn’t feel confident at that time. He could be very self-conscious at times considering of his past self and constant rejection from women…”

The more I walked down the memory lane, the more painful I felt, heart twisted and wrenched.

“H-h-how…how did you deal with it? “

“Deal with what, Doll?”

“The feeling of being given false hope, disappointment… that he promised to be with you till the end of the line…”

“It’s… upsetting.” Bucky hesitated, worry that he might worsen the situation if he continued so he just remain and basking in the silence.

“I think of ending my life sometimes… because I’d rather die than living but suffering a gut-wrenching heartache in a long term…”

“No, Doll. Please don’t…” Bucky shushed in my ear, his embrace tighten even more, cheek pressed against my head.

“I-i-i-it h-h-h-urts, Buck… it hurts…He’s my first love, first kiss and…” my shoulders began to shake, eventually my whole body shuddered from chocking sobs.

“I know, Doll. But I promise you’ll get through it, I promise to be with you every step of the way. We will get through it. I am not going anywhere. I am not going to walk out this door, not until you kick me out because you’re so sick of looking at my face. You have my word, Doll. I am staying.” Bucky tried lulling me to sleep.

I couldn’t care less about anything. The sound of harsh rain was the only thing I could pay attention to, ironically it matched my mood, the more my heart felt torn, the heavier it rained…

Chocking sobs gradually dispersed into soft whimpers. My eyes were heavy, I felt my breath gotten shallow. Eventually, darkness engulfed my sight. Hoping that I would wake up from this nightmare.

Next >>> Chapter 2 

Look at his big hands 👀

Oh, lovely. His hands. His beautiful face. My mind went...somewhere. 

Two Weeks Notice.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Word Count: 1,576

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, one-sided love that isn’t one-sided at all, porn with feels

18+ Please!!!

This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own.

You were always distracted by Andy's hands. Not just because of the size, though you had many thoughts about how large they were. It was because his hands were almost as expressive as his eyes. They could be animated one moment and clenched the next. It made it easy for you to pick up on his moods when you couldn't make eye contact with him. 

"What the hell is this?"

You didn't have to see his face to know he was shocked. His grip on your letter in his hands spoke volumes. Why he was so angry, too, you had no idea. "It's my letter of resignation."

Andy began to crumple the sheet, finally looking at you. It felt like the oxygen left from the room. That murderous gaze had never been directed your way, but there was something more surfacing. He looked...hurt. "I know what it is. I just read it. What I don't understand is why."

Your gaze fell to his hand, unable to look in his eyes any longer. What were you supposed to tell him? That you couldn’t stand to work with him because you were in love with him? That it hurt seeing him each day knowing he'd never be yours? You had to keep some of your dignity. 

"Is it money? Because I’ll get you a raise,” he promised when you didn’t say anything. He crumpled the sheet more when you shook your head. “Is someone bothering you? Harassing you? Because I’ll take care of it. I won’t tolerate it.”

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head again. “No, Mr. Barber, and I really don’t want to discuss why.”

Andy tossed the letter into the garbage can before he grabbed his coffee. He took a sip, the silence in the room somehow deafening. It was like he couldn’t keep his hands still. “We've worked together for some time now. I thought we were friends. Friends can talk to each other,” he said quietly, setting the mug down. You bought it for him and he once said it was his favorite.

“We are not friends, Mr. Barber,” you corrected him as you stood up, the words leaving your mouth before you could shut it. Hearing him say the word “friend” was just another reminder of a dream that would never come true. “You’re my boss and you won’t even be that once my two weeks are up.”

He recoiled as though you struck him, but he recovered quickly as he got to his feet and placed his hands on his desk. “Fine. As my assistant, you’re not obligated to tell me why you’re leaving. And you may not consider us friends, but please consider that I want to know why you're walking out on me. You’re not just my incredible assistant. I care about you. And...you’re one of the only people I trust.”

You wiped a tear away before it could fall. You knew that question was coming and you were still unprepared. He was a good man and he went through so much with Laurie and Jacob. It felt like you were kicking him when he was down. “Yes,” you admitted.

“Mr. Barber…”

“Andy. I’m not Mr. Barber. I’m Andy," he said gently, his shoulders slumped as a thoughtful look crossed his face. “Are you leaving because of me?”

One word. That was all it took before he began to crack. “What did I do?” he asked, gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. “Tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

“You can’t,” you told him, moving away from your chair.

“I can’t fix it, but you can quit. I can’t make it better, but I can make you cry,” he said, anger seeping back into his eyes.

“It’s better for both of us if I leave,” you spoke, turning to go before you said something that couldn't be unsaid.

"Fuck that," he hissed, moving faster around the desk than you anticipated. His hand gripped your arm, making you stop. It wasn't his grip that made you pause. It was the feeling of his fingers through your top. Including the finger that no longer had a ring.

"Andy, I just want to go," you pleaded. You wanted to go home and wallow in your self-pity. 

He had other plans as he turned you to face him. "So, that's really it? You're leaving me?"

"I'm sorry," you swore, feeling guilty at his wording. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You were trying to protect yourself. "You can't convince me to stay."

"Yes, I can," he said, leaning his head down to kiss you long and deep. 

The sound you made wasn't very dignified, but you didn't care. When he gripped the back of your head to deepen the kiss, you returned it with everything you had. If one word was all it took to crack Andy's armor, one kiss was all it took to break your dam. 

"Stay with me," he breathed against your lips. "I can't lose you, too."

You rubbed your body against his, uncaring that he was still your boss. And with the way he dragged you to his desk and bent you over it, he didn't care that you were his employee. "Andy…"

"Do you know how long I've wanted you?" he asked, pushing your skirt up and ripping your panties off. "How many times your tight little outfits got me hard?"

You scrambled to hold on when he kicked your legs apart. This side of him was something you fantasized about. He wanted you. Andy Barber wanted you...physically. Could you give him this and still walk away unscathed?

"I know it was wrong wanting you since you work for me," he went on. You could hear his belt open and some more shuffling, your breathing heavier. Anyone could walk in, but you were desperate to be filled by his cock. "But I...but who wouldn't want you?"

You shut your eyes, wishing you could shut your emotions off. Wasn't it enough that he wanted you? It had to be for now. "Please," you whispered, your body winning the current battle when he pressed close. God, he was so hard. You did that to him. 

You whimpered when his cock nudged your pussy. You weren't stretched, but you were soaked for him. And maybe you wanted a bit of pain. You wanted to feel him later. 

"I'm going to take my time with you later," he promised, making you open your eyes. He wanted you more than once? "I'll take you to bed. Caress you, worship you. The way I've wanted to since you made my life bright again."

His hands...The hands you dreamt about kept you still as he sank inch by inch into you. The moan you let out was pornographic, but you couldn't help yourself. You were stretched around him, throbbing with a need that only he could satisfy. You didn't care how quick and dirty it was as long he filled you up in the end. 

You tried to push your hips back, but he stopped you. "No," he told you, making you tense up. "You'll take what I give you."

And he gave you everything. He plowed into you like a madman, his hips forcefully smacking against your ass. You pressed your cheek against the cool desk, moaning as he took over. Of course, he'd figure out how to bend your body to his will. The man had your heart, but now he had all of you. 

"Still thinking of leaving me?" he grunted. 

"I just...ahh!"

"How many orgasms will it take to make you stay? What do I need to do?" he asked frantically.

"I didn't want to get hurt," you got out. You almost sobbed when he stopped. The bastard stopped. "Andy!"

"Never," he promised, pulling out just to thrust back in hard. "The only ache I ever want you to feel is me ruining your tight pussy."

You shuddered as he resumed his pace. Your mind shut off temporarily as he ignited every nerve, squirming as you felt your orgasm build. One of his hands reached up to cover yours, linking your fingers together. The intimate feel made your heart clench as you tightened around him. 

"Come for me, honey. Just let go. I've got you."

You trusted him to catch you as you exploded. It was overwhelming and the most beautiful sensation you ever experienced. It was everything to you because it was given to you by the man you loved. You cried out as pleasure crashed through you again, the feel of him coming truly ruining you. It was something you could take with you.

His hand didn't let go of yours as you both caught your breath. The position should have been uncomfortable, his large frame covering yours. But you didn't want to move. You didn't want this to be over.

"I know it's…selfish. To think you're mine," he said against your ear. "But I'm yours, honey."

It was like he rubbed a soothing balm over your heart. You two had a lot to discuss and it was going to be a vulnerable conversation, but you had a feeling it would go well. "I've always been yours."

"You'll stay?" he asked hopefully.

"Well...you threw my letter out," you teased. "But I may need more convincing."

"Oh, we're just getting started."

Every couple of months, I decide I’m done acting. This has been my thing for decades now. I’m always looking for a way out, but I do love it. I think TV right now, those creative minds are given a bit more freedom. It feels like movies sometimes get inundated with studio notes, and all of a sudden, what was once an original idea becomes boiled down to the lowest common denominator, and then you have no one’s favorite movie but everyone’s lukewarm movie. I think that’s why people may be turning away, and looking to things like streaming service shows that actually are innovative.

CHRIS EVANS | Variety Studio: Actors on Actors (2019)

CHRIS EVANS Defending Jacob (2020)

Awww what about Ransom being too hard so you have to use the safe word and he’s really adorable and soft with aftercare? 🥺🥺

Safe Word

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,103 Summary: You use your safe word for the first time. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Safe word usage. Smut. 18+

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, nonnie, please know that this has haunted my shameless hoe brain since you first submitted it. I needed some soft!Ransom feels and smut, sooo here you go 😘

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me,” Ransom moaned, his fingers gripping your hips tighter as he thrust up into you.

You whimpered, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you curled against his chest.

He’d already made you cum twice, which wasn’t hard with you straddling him on the sofa like this. Ransom was bigger than you’d ever had before. Like, ever.

And when you rode him like this? It toed the line of too much. Especially with your cycle coming up. Your body was sore and sensitive, feeling overstimulated, but you could tell Ransom was close and you wanted to make him feel good.

“Wanna feel you cum around me again,” he murmured, thumb returning to your clit. “Love it when you squeeze me tight.”

You gasped, his touch more pain than pleasure at this point, especially when he planted his feet and the rough drive of his hips hit too deep, kissing your cervix on every enthusiastic stroke.

Sobbing, you realized for the first time that you were crying, your face warm and wet from your tears.

Ransom couldn’t see your face though. He thought you were overwhelmed because it felt so good. That you were rigid because you were close to coming unraveled again.

“Yeah, one more, baby, gimme one more.” His thumb pressed harder at your clit, hips rolling up into you without relent, somehow driving even harder.

You broke.

“Lighthouse,” you whimpered, fisting his sweater in your hands as your muscles seized.

Close to his own end, it took Ransom a second to process what you said, especially because you’d never said it to him before. Well, not in this context.

And the way your voice broke around your safe word for a second time had Ransom going absolutely still.

He blinked the sex daze from his brain, the edge of bliss he’d been teasing all but evaporating as he realized you were crying into his neck, shaking against his chest.

“Shit!” He cursed, big hands moving from your hips and hovering over your back tentatively before finally touching you. “Y/N?” He hugged you to his chest, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Did I hurt you, baby?”

The jerky nod you gave was enough to make Ransom feel like he’d been sucker punched in the gut.

“Okay,” he said quietly, not sure what to do. He shifted, barely suppressing a groan as his cock—still painfully hard—nudged into you deeper, making you whine in pain. “Fuck! I’m sorry! Shit!”

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, clear his head, being mindful not to jostle you too much.

“Come on, baby, I need you to sit up,” he whispered, running his hand up and down your back. “Need you to climb off, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You were still for a moment, your quiet sniffles making Ransom feel like the biggest asshole ever, a title he usually relished in, especially when it came to riling up his family.

But with you? Like this?

He felt awful.

Still he tried to give you a soft smile as you straightened and rose up over him stiffly.

Ransom couldn’t quite muffle his groan as the warm, tight heat of you moved away, left him feeling cold and unsatisfied.

You all but collapsed onto the sofa beside him, curling into the fetal position, your cheeks glistening with tears.

Grimacing, Ransom tucked himself into the band of his boxer briefs before loosely fastening his pants. He slid to the floor in front of you, hand gentle as he cupped your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling embarrassed as he thumbed away your tears. “I tried to wait until you were finished.”

“Jesus, sweetheart,” Ransom huffed, frowning at you. “If I’m fucking hurting you, you need to tell me.”

You flinched at his frustration, hiding your face in the throw pillow beneath your head.

“Shit,” Ransom sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.” He ducked close, pressing his lips to your cheek. “I’m sorry.” A kiss to your jaw. “I just...didn’t mean to hurt you. Not like that.” His lips touched your forehead. “Please forgive me.”

You felt another wave of tears rise up, a lump forming in your throat as you burrowed deeper into the pillow.

Ransom sounded truly sorry, even a little distraught, that he hurt you.

And it was just...a lot.

Because as soft as Ransom could be with you—and just you—he was still Ransom.

You choked down another sob, part of you knowing you were likely drowning in your feels because you were PMSing.

And had used a safe word for the first time ever.

And were suddenly and thoroughly exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom whispered again, pressing soft kisses to your cheek and temple.

Another wave of the emotion washed over you, making your throat constrict even tighter, because you loved this cervix destroying asshole, goddamnit!

Ransom’s hand smoothed down your side, then up again, another flurry of sweet kisses and whispered apologies raining down on you.

Blinking back your tears, you turned to him then, catching his next kiss with your lips, your hand coming up to press against his cheek.

You could feel his relief as he curled around you, hugging you close as his forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ransom breathed, his bright blue eyes shining with concern as he met your gaze.

“It’s okay.” You nuzzled his nose with yours. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his worried pout, kissing it away. “I forgive you, Ransom,” you murmured, giving him another kiss for good measure.

“Wanna make it up to you,” he hummed, smoothing a hand over your head. “How about I run you a bath?”

“How about you run us a bath?” You countered, eyes blinking at him sleepily. Your lips curled. “And I can give you a hand with your, um...situation.” Your gaze dipped pointedly to the front of Ransom’s pants.

He laughed. “Jesus, I fuck you till you cry and you’re still willing to get me off? If that doesn’t scream put a ring on it, I dunno what does.”

A flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, muting the lingering pain in your body entirely.

“Joking about marriage?” you gasped playfully. “Yikes. I think I broke Ransom Drysdale.”

Smirking he leaned close, kissing you slowly, his lips pressing against yours as he spoke, “To be fair, I think the asshole kind of deserved it.”

Laughing, you didn’t complain as Ransom smothered you in another round of soft, sweet kisses.

I THINK I BROKE MYSELF WITH THIS SOFT!RANSOM, OKAY?! 😭😭😭

---

Tags will be added in a reblog. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, check out the link in my bio! 

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though! ❤️

CHRIS EVANS at the Wired Summit, 2019.