mydying-town - Tumblr blog

mydying-town · 1 month

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Good Girl, That Right.

warnings/tags: f!reader, wlw, rivals to lovers, semipublic sex(bar bathroom), bottom!nat, cursing, my writing, sexual content MDNI BELOW CUT

w/c: 2.4k

this is my first time writing something like this so I am so sorry in advance if its awful.

Ever since the group was called back to Miramar, you and Phoenix had all but spent the time at each others throats. After a particularly hard day of training, you decide to head to the Hard Deck for a drink to unwind.

As you are walking in, you notice Phoenix walking up to the bar to get a drink. Deciding the best way to end your day was to mess with her, you lightly jog up to the bar, standing next to her and ordering a beer before Penny walked away.

“Hey Penny! One more beer, on Phoenix’s tab.” You say, smiling politely at Penny before turning your attention to the brunette on your side. “Thanks for the drink, darlin’.”

Phoenix scoffed, unable to meet your eyes. “You are insufferable, did you know that?”

“I believe someones mentioned it once or twice,” deflecting her insult best you could. “Relax, Nix. I’ll get the next round.”

“Again with the nickname, do you not have anything better to do tonight than bother me?” Phoenix rolled her eyes, handing her card over to Penny to pay for the rounds.

“Oh, I did, then I saw you and couldn’t pass it up.” I glance over her shoulder and see the bright Hawaiian shirt in the corner. “Go enjoy your game with Rooster, let me know when you need another one and I’ll bring it over.”

Phoenix, turning to head back over to Rooster at the pool table, looked at you and said “Trust me, I will.” A light scoff leaving her mouth.

Seeing one last chance to get in her head before she walked away, you pulled the only card you could think of. “I always knew you were my good girl, Nix.”

You saw her freeze, the wheels turning in her brain trying to figure out how to react too that. Smirking slightly at her, you pull the beer to your lips, taking a sip and tipping it at her. Phoenix shakes her head, trying to get the thoughts out, and turns to walk to Rooster to finish the game they had started shortly before you got there.

As you’re finishing your drink, you notice a certain pilot walking towards you, empty drink in hand. Her face was slightly flushed, unsure if it was the drink, the heat from the San Diego sun, or you.

“Ready for your next round?”

“Y’know, I didn’t appreciate you calling me a ‘good girl’ earlier. It’s demeaning.”

You nod your head to the side, listening to what she has to say before leaning close to her ear. “You came back, didn’t you? That’s what good girls do… they listen.”

Phoenix freezes feeling your breath on her neck was almost too much to handle, it heading straight for her core. As you turn to get the bartenders attention, Phoenix rubs her neck with her hand, trying to get her heart rate to slow down. You loop an arm around her waist like its second nature, thumb rubbing small circles on her hip bone. Phoenix loudly clears her throat, making you turn your attention to her.

“Yes ma’am?” You ask, turning your head towards her, trying to figure out what you did this time to piss her off.

“Your arm?” Phoenix scoffs at you.

“Sorry about that, I like being able to hold a pretty woman close to me… and I didn’t want to lose you.” You say, noticing the crowd picking up in the bar. You turn back to grab the drinks from the bar, sliding hers to rest in front of her. “Plus, I like seeing you tense up.”

“Why would you possibly like that? It’s like you go out of your way to make me tense.” Phoenix said, in almost disbelief of your response, her temporarily slowed heart picking up again.

“You don’t think I know the game you’re playing here, Nix? We’ve been doing it sense day one.” You say, following it with a breathy laugh before grabbing her chin, pulling her closer to you.

“I just hope, one day I wind you up so tight that you let me take care of you the way you deserve.” Still holding her chin, your eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips and back, you don’t let go, maintaining the eye contact trying to read her thoughts about you.

Phoenix is frozen from the moment you touch her chin, she also knew the game, it wasn’t just you. She just never thought it would actually get this far. Adjusting on her feet, lightly rubbing her thighs together. She fakes confidence and raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t realize you were that observant. How do you plan on resolving this little game then?”

Phoenix didn’t know if she shrank, or you grew, but in that moment it feels like she’s looking up at you waiting on your response, not realizing she just gave you all the cards to continue.

A smile slowly forming on your face, coupled with the darkness swirling in your eyes, Phoenix feels her knees almost buckling. Slowly lowering your hand from her chin, moving to slide it down her neck, and finally back to your side, you look at her and say so quietly that she almost second guesses herself.

“It’s 8:52 now, Nix. Meet me in the bathroom in twenty, knock twice. I’ll wait ten minutes after, and if you don’t come then I’ll know where we stand.”

Phoenix’s breath catches in her throat as she turns to leave you sitting at the bar alone. You take a sip of your drink, leg shaking trying your best to calm your nerves.

Five minutes before you told Phoenix to meet you in the bathroom, you get up moving towards the back of the bar. On your way, you lock eyes with her, seeing the desperation in her eyes was enough to make you moan. Once in the bathroom, you lock the door and splash water on your face, trying to decide if you’re actually going to go through with this.

After a moment of getting yourself together, you check your watch the time showing 9:15, your heart starts to pound wondering if you really did misread the situation. Running your hands over your face to calm your nerves, you hear two sharp knocks at the door to the bathroom. Probably too quickly, you jump off the counter and unlock the door, pulling her in as quickly as you could without hurting her.

Pinning her against the wall, you place a hand on her jaw, slowly moving it to cushion the back of her head, taking your other hand to lock the door so you aren’t interrupted. Pulling back and breaking the kiss, you feel Phoenix pulling towards you missing the connection. Moving your hands to her waist, you place your forehead against hers, both panting heavily.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming…”

“I wasn’t sure I was.”

At that comment you lean back in, kissing her with bruising pace, moving a hand down to start unbuttoning her service khakis, hands stopping to feel her breasts under your hands. She let out a deep throaty moan against your lips, feeling your knuckles brush her nipples through her bra. Pulling back, you untucked her shirt from her pants before slipping it to the ground. Your arms wrapped around her back, pulling her bra off, feeling the wetness form as you watch her nipples peak.

“So needy for me, Natasha.”

Hearing you call her by her full name, made her knees buckle and a shiver run down her spine right to her center. After taking her in, you start kissing down her body, stopping to let your tongue swirl her nipples, you drop to your knees, unbuckling her belt and then her pants.

Stopping to look up at Phoenix, seeing her pant looking down at you was addictive. You take a hand and lightly ghost it down her waist to her hips, placing a soft kiss right above her pants line.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You say, not leaving the ground, completely at her mercy.

Natasha let out a breathy whine, jutting her hips to you.

“Words, pretty girl… I need words.”

“Yes, God I want it, I need it. I need you.” You moan, hearing the neediness in her tone, placing your forehead on her abdomen, smelling her through her pants. You run your hands down her hips, untying her shoes slipping them off before pulling her pants down, helping her step out.

Natasha’s hands found her way to your hair, tugging slightly needing your mouth on the place she craved the most.

“Fuck Rose. God, I need you now.” You chuckle, taking a step back to see the mess you’ve made in front of you. Natasha was panting, the wet spot growing on her panties under your gaze.

You move forward, looking at her up and down, the way predator looks at prey.

“You are so beautiful, Nat. Absolutely stunning, I can’t wait to taste that dripping wet pussy.” Watching Natasha just out her hips, begging for friction with something was an addictive sight, almost wanting to leave her like this. Almost.

Kneeling down in front of her, you place small kisses on her upper thighs, working towards her panty line. Reaching a hand up, you hook two fingers in her panties, pulling them down, taking in the sight of her soaking wet pussy.

When the cool air touched her sensitive region, you watched her struggle to stand. Tapping her thigh, telling her to throw them over your shoulders one at a time.

“No, I can’t, I don’t want to hurt you.” Natasha protested, it coming out in pants.

Chuckling softly, taking in the view in front of you, still in awe of the woman in front of you. “I can handle it, Nat. All I want is to make you feel good.”

Looking up at her, you see the sweat starting to drip down her breasts. “Do you trust me to make you feel good?”

Natasha throws her head back against the wall, whining, giving you the answer you need.

“Come on, baby girl. Put your legs over my shoulder, I’ll take care of you.”

Natasha nodded, finally throwing her legs over each of your shoulders, letting you maintain her weight. Gently, you nudge your nose into her pussy, it lightly bumping her sensitive clit. You can tell she is getting frustrated by the lack of contact by the way she was attempting to grind down onto you.

Wrapping your hands around her thighs, placing them to hold her steady, you lean down taking a long lick up her folds, the taste of her making you moan as you gently suck on her clit, testing the waters of what she can handle. Natasha bucked her hips towards me, begging for more. You leaned back in, rubbing you tongue across her clit not letting up as her cries increased, moving a hand from her hip to pinch her nipple between your fingers.

Natasha’s moans got louder saying your name like praises on her tongue, and you could feel her legs start to shake as you pulled back to speak to her.

“Baby, you are being so loud. Its like you want the whole bar to know who’s fucking you this good.”

Natasha whimpered at the loss of contact, watching back as you leaned back to take in her pretty, swollen pussy. Pushing her legs off of your shoulder, you grab her hips turning her to face the wall. Standing behind her, you move your hands to grab her hips, taking a foot and moving her legs to stand further apart.

With one hand, you wrapped it gently around her throat, with the other, you slide your hand down finger circling her clit before moving back and pushing two fingers in. Hearing Natasha’s moan, you tighten your hand around her throat, your pace on her pussy is picking up, feeling her tighten around your hand.

“You gonna cum all over me, Nat? Gonna cum all over me like a good little girl?”

Natasha nods her head rapidly, breath shaky. “Please make me cum, (Y/N).”

“Hmm, that was so pretty, you have to tell me what you are first.” Grabbing her chin turning her to look at me, my pace never letting up, moving to put three fingers in her.

“Oh God, (Y/N) !” Natasha moaned at the stretch she felt, her orgasm getting closer.

“Tell me what you are, Nat, or I’m going to stop and leave you here all fucked out and unsatisfied.”

“Please, please don’t. I’m your good girl, yours, only yours. I am being so good for you, please let me cum, (Y/N). Please.”

Hearing Natasha begging to cum, was enough to make you fall to your knees to give her what she wanted. You pulled your fingers out, just enough to turn her back around. Once her back is settled against the wall, you begin fucking her again, pace just as steady as before. The sight of her pretty swollen clit was too much, leaning down to take it into your mouth.

The clench around your fingers was tighter, seeing Phoenix above you, and her facial expression let her know she was going to cum, and she was going to cum hard.

Without letting up your pace, you felt her knees give out as she orgasmed, your tongue and hands slowly working her through it. Finally, once she had come down enough, you pulled your fingers out, one by one making sure she can adjust to the emptiness.

Seeing Natasha, a sweaty panting mess was a beautiful sight. Slowly standing, you push the couple of strands that have fallen out of her bun out of her face, admiring the glow around her.

“Hey, baby…” You say softly, placing my hand on her jaw, running my thumb over her cheek.

“That was… wow.” Natasha could barely mutter out, eyes still partially closed.

“It was… Let me help get you dressed and I’ll drive you home. We can come get your car in the morning.” Without hearing much protest from Phoenix, you help her back into her clothes, tucking her panties into your back pocket for safe keeping.

Once she was as put together as you both could make her, you look at her and quietly ask, “Ready to go back out there? We can make a run for the door and no one will know.”

Phoenix nodded, looking at you through her lashes. Meeting her halfway, you give her one final kiss before unlocking the bathroom door.

“Here goes nothing, Nix.”

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mydying-town · 2 months

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you are in love series - part two

meant just for you

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Chapter Summary: Without the barrier of identity between you now, you sympathize with Bucky and think of a way to make him a bit more comfortable.

warnings: FLUFF! some sad fighting with his past Bucky, but again FLUFF!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: thank you ALL so much for the love on part one: one look, dark room. when I posted, I didn't expect such overwhelming positivity! you're all so wonderful and I hope you love part two just as much if not more than part one. this will be slow burn, but there will be plenty of cute moments in between too. also, as a long time fic reader, heavy fics are sometimes just what you need, but other times, nothing can beat easy reading, and I hope to be able to provide that for you <3 no need to worry about a broken heart on my blog ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

a/n: if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! I appreciate every one of you <3

masterlist | part one

With the first signs of sunlight trickling in through the blinds and the early hum of traffic along your street, you stirred awake. The soft rays of dawn kissed your eyes as you settled into calm contemplation of the night before. The events were still fresh in your mind, and it was hard to believe such a significant part of Bucky’s life had been revealed to you. Even harder was the realization of how quickly you returned to feeling normal about it. The shock wore off almost instantly, and his presence returned to just James again, reminding you that nothing about him had truly changed.

You felt no aversion towards him—neither at the moment he told you, nor afterwards. The fear and repulsion he seemed to expect never surfaced. Instead, you were filled with awe and empathy.

To Bucky, his identity was tied to the events and actions of a past he had desperately tried to forget. But for you, it was about the life he had missed entirely.

Closing your eyes, you could hear it in the silence, the crackling strains of Sinatra, the melody that had brought a brief flicker of peace to Bucky’s troubled face. As the music played, you exchanged a few words, but not too many. You didn’t want to spook him, sensing the lingering tension after your discovery of his other name. He chose to stay, and you let him sit unmoving as long as he needed, letting him know you were comfortable with him there. In that moment, you were content to simply watch him.

The music seemed to cause a shift in him—as if the song reached into the depths of his memories, the parts he still cherished, and pulled him back to a time when things were simpler, when he knew how to be a part of the world. A time when he didn’t feel like he was taking up space that wasn’t meant for him.

That moment deepened your view of him. You realized how much had been taken from him—not just the music of his time, but everything that made life rich and full. Sent to war, never to return home, and then being thrust into a world that had moved on without him, a world where nothing felt familiar, just like Captain America had. The weight of that understanding pressed on you, filling you with a sense of urgency that lingered now, in the light of morning.

Seeing that fleeting calmness, the softening of his eyes as he listened, you knew he needed a lifeline—a way to escape the constant feeling of not belonging.

As the morning light grew stronger, a decision solidified in your mind: you needed to help him find that peace again, to create a space where he could retreat whenever the world became too much. A decision fueled by altruism, and perhaps, by the desire to see that beautiful look on his face again as he found solace in your apartment.

It wasn’t just about surrounding him with memories of the past. It was about finding a way to bridge the gap between the world he remembered and the one he found himself in now.

Finally pulling yourself out of your much-too-comfortable bed, you moved to the kitchen, your bare feet padding softly against the floor as you prepared a simple breakfast. The rhythmic sounds of shifting ingredients and the sizzling of butter provided a backdrop to your thoughts, which were still occupied by Bucky. His presence lingered, even in his absence, as if you could sense him across the hall in his apartment without needing to see him.

With the toast popping up, you added it to your otherwise completed plate and set it down at the small kitchen table. You grabbed your laptop and opened it, quickly diving into what you do best: finding treasures among other people’s old junk, all while working through your breakfast.

Your fingers moved quickly across the keys as you typed in the names of artists from the 30s and 40s you’d found on Google. The results flooded the screen—some listings for supposedly ‘pristine’ records, others showing signs of wear and scratches. It didn’t take long before you stumbled upon a lot of records—30s and 40s jazz and swing, bundled together in a collection. Some of the vinyls were described as being in less-than-perfect condition, with scratches that might affect the sound, but for $30, it was worth the risk.

The thought of Bucky being able to listen to more music from his time, music that could help him feel just a little more at home, made a feeling of warmth spread through you. You added the records to your cart, excitement building as you placed the order. It seemed like a small step, but felt a lot bigger. All you needed to do now was wait a couple of days for the package to arrive.

As you closed your laptop, you took a bite of your breakfast, the warm food a comfort as you considered the days ahead. The records would arrive soon, and with them, the hope that Bucky might find some peace, some connection to the world he once knew, and maybe even more of a connection with you.

Bucky had spent the past couple of days trapped in a loop, a repetitive cycle of hope and despair. The night with you had sparked something within him—a small flicker of what could be, of what it might feel like to be normal, to have a friend. But that flicker was quickly smothered by the reality he faced every time he closed his eyes.

His nightmares had been relentless, each one a violent reminder of who he really was. The images would blur and twist, merging the faces of those he had hurt with those he had lost.

He’d wake up on the floor, sheets sweaty and falling around him, the cold emptiness of his hardly furnished apartment pressing in on him from all sides, making him feel like he was trapped in a continuously shrinking box. Telling himself that he could move forward and live normally felt like he was just pretending.

He knew he was different, that the world was different. Without Steve, he was alone—no one else was stuck like he was. Just him.

The life he was supposed to have had was a distant memory, replaced by something darker, something he couldn’t shake no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise.

But then there was you. You, who had looked at him with kindness instead of the fear he was used to. You, who had sat with him, listened to music with him, and hadn’t flinched when he revealed his secret, if he could really call it one. It had almost reminded him of Steve in a way. Knowing him, he would have accepted him immediately, just as you had.

For the first time in a long time, he had felt the crushing weight of loneliness ease just a little. The realization of how isolated he had been hit him like a punch to the gut. He found himself longing for your company, wanting to hear your voice, to see your face again.

But that longing came with a gnawing sense of guilt. He didn’t want to be a burden. The last thing he wanted was to drag you down into the darkness that clung to him like a shadow. He knew he shouldn’t get too close, shouldn’t let you get too close.

So, despite the pull he felt to reach out, to knock on your door and ask if you wanted to listen to more music, not knowing how else to connect with you, he held back. He decided to wait, to let things happen on their own, if they were meant to.

He wouldn’t tell Sam about this. And he definitely wouldn’t tell his therapist.

It was already hard enough to have to deal with the emotions as they were. If he told either of them he was just going to end up frustrated and annoyed by what they had to say. Sam’s jokes and his therapist’s lectures were just too much for him right now.

So, he waited. Every day he would find himself standing at the door, hand hovering over the handle, debating whether to take that step, to cross the hall and knock. And every day, he would turn away, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing, even though it felt like he was just running in circles.

The days passed by fairly quickly, with you busying yourself with admissions office job you had gotten at the university. After waiting, the lot of records you had ordered online arrives.

You headed down to the lobby, where the same disinterested worker from the other week was on the job. You were almost certain he was the only employee at this point. His eyes barely flicked up to you as you approached, his indifference almost offensive.

You couldn’t help but think you could probably steal everyone's packages and he would never know the difference, but being honest in nature and too excited, you took the box you knew now belonged to you up to your apartment.

Once inside, you carefully unwrapped the package, peeling back layers of bubble wrap and cardboard until you were through to what you cared about.

You inspected each record with care, worried with them being so old that they may be brittle. The listing had promised only slight scratches on some, the majority having stayed in their sleeves, untouched, for years.

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw the seller’s claims had been true. The records were in remarkable condition, considering their age. You decided to transfer them into new, clean sleeves to ensure they stayed as nice as possible and one by one, you slid them into fresh covers.

With the records now properly housed, you moved over to your setup, making space on the shelf. You cleared out one of the cubbies, sliding the new additions into their place. The final touch was a small bow you tied onto the ledge, to showcase that the spot was a gift.

Your heart thudded with anticipation. There was no reason to wait any longer; you wanted to share this with Bucky today if you could. You made your way across the hall to his door, your excitement making your steps lighter. Standing outside, you knocked gently, calling out his name to let him know you were there.

But there was no response.

You knocked again, your voice a little louder this time, but still nothing. Disappointment began to settle in as you considered the possibility that he wasn’t home, or worse, didn’t want to see you.

Just as you were about to turn away, you heard a sound behind you—the soft creak of a door opening. You turned back to see Bucky standing there, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Hey,” you replied, the relief washing over you causing a grin to replace the disappointment that had been on your face just moments before. “I was hoping to catch you.”

He looked at you, waiting, so you continued, “I got something I wanted to show you. Actually... it’s a bit of a surprise. I was thinking maybe you could come over for dinner again? I promise it’s for a special reason.”

For a moment, Bucky seemed to wrestle with something inside himself, his gaze dropping to the floor. But then he looked back up, a small, almost imperceptible nod following.

“Yeah,” he said finally, “I’d like that.”

As he closed the door, unseen to you, a smile spread across his face. Giving it time had been the right choice, but he had no idea what reason could be so special to invite him over for.

The rest of the day passed by in anticipation, your thoughts constantly drifting to the dinner you planned for the evening. As the time approached, you began preparing the meal, the kitchen filling with warmth that promised a good night ahead.

Just as you were finishing up on the stove, a knock sounded at the door. Quickly moving the pan off the heat and covering it to let the food simmer, you wiped your hands before heading over to answer.

When you opened the door, Bucky stood there, his expression slightly guarded, but with something else there as well. Maybe it was just curiosity, maybe just happiness to be here.

You hoped it was both.

“Come on in,” you said, stepping aside for him to enter, “I was just finishing up. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were spying on me.”

The two of you sat down, and slowly eating, the conversation which had started slow and nervous eased into something more relaxed. The topic eventually drifting to your past and his, you shared how you got there and Bucky, with a small, nostalgic small, told you stories of going dancing.

You couldn’t help ask more.

“Dancing, huh? I can’t really picture you out on the dance floor.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes distant for a moment as if he were pulling the memory from a far corner of his mind.

“It was different back then. Everyone went. It was just something you did.”

The idea of Bucky, so often serious and reserved, out enjoying himself like that was both endearing and a little surprising. An idea began to form in your mind as you stood up from the table, making your way over to the shelves where your record player and collection were kept.

“Maybe you heard one of these when you were out there with one of your dates,” you said over your shoulder, pulling out the box you placed in the cleared cubby earlier.

Bucky’s gaze followed you, a hint of confusion knitting his brow as you came back to the table with the box. Setting it down in front of him, you opened the lid to reveal the records you had carefully collected, each one now neatly housed in its new sleeve.

“That,” you said, gesturing to the empty shelf, “is your spot. And this is the start of your collection. And if you want, you can add that Sinatra record from the other night in here too.”

For a moment, Bucky just stared at the records, recognizing some of the names through the clear plastic covering them, his fingers hovered, hesitant to touch something that felt so much like home yet so far removed from his current reality. Then, as the realization of what you were offering him sank in, a flicker of shock crossed his face.

“What is this?” he said quietly, his voice thick with an emotion he was clearly trying to keep in check.

You shrugged, smiling at him. “We could say it’s a happy early—or late—birthday gift maybe? If I need to have an excuse to give it to you.”

Bucky looked at you, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s meant just for you. So, whenever you need it, a little bit of comfort, come and be familiar with something.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes glistening slightly, though he quickly looked away, trying to hide the depth of his reaction. You could tell the gesture had touched him more than he was letting on.

“Thank you,” he said, almost a whisper.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Maybe once you hear some stuff again you'll get an itch and have to show me how those old dances went. Since you owe me now you know? For starting your collection for you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, the tension easing from his shoulders. “I guess I do.”

And there it was again, you could hear it in the silence the same way you did the morning you ordered the gift, Frank’s voice in the back of your head.

In that moment, something shifted between you—a subtle but significant change. You’d take it one step at a time.

a/n: well there it is, hope you liked the way this part played out. your support is unimaginable! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @purplecolordeer @nicksolemnlyswears @mcira

#barking and howling #this is what I have been craving

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