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literate-lamb · 4 years ago

Text

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises.

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store.

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night.

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him.

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.”

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops.

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches.

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair.

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date.

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say.

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it.

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days.

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?”

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things.

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour.

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby.

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane.

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka.

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling.

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled.

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago.

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster.

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you.

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.”

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?”

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers.

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors.

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand.

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

��Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms.

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third.

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?”

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar.

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt.

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world.

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two.

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

“Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry.

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know.

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in.

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.”

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire.

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.”

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers.

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.”

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.”

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence.

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back.

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed.

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.”

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running.

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately.

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?”

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.”

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt.

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand…

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this.

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end.

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—��

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive.

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.”

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—”

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room.

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains.

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his.

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his.

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed.

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red.

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds.

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala.

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it.

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you.

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it.

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived.

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself.

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America.

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar.

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said.

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access.

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter.

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes.

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment.

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication.

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #fluff #angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #happyhoelentinesday2021

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strawberrysoup · 4 years ago

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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 6

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader

word length: 2.9K

chapters: 6/?

warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. more detailed content warnings are included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers, click through the read more, CTRL + F “content warnings”.

notes: slightly shorter than my usual, but i needed to get some stuff fixed up. if ya’ll like my stories please consider donating to my ko-fi— a bitch is poor lmao

Steve swept you up in his arms and turned to deposit you on the landing upstairs, evidently trusting the others to keep you contained for a moment. There was an audible scuffle going on in the den, Bucky would be heard growling from outside—snapping at someone who made the mistake of asking how he’d gotten out there so fast? Tony was growling at Peter who looked seconds away from begging for forgiveness.

“You guys made it safe, I’m happy to see you Nat,” Steve drew the redhaired woman into his arms and sighed in relief, but you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement; honestly you were having trouble thinking, your brain clouded with the sudden onset of absolute and uncontrolled panic.

The moment the black-haired man had been pulled away by the delta currently stomping back up the stairs, clarity had returned to you like a slap in the face. The golden fog that obscured your vision immediately dissipated and just as quickly you’d been overwhelmed with gut wrenching fear. You didn’t actually remember kicking Steve in the face or making a break for the stairs, but evidently you had and you cursed your hindbrain for running towards the stairs—you should’ve jumped straight out the window; you had a better chance at out running Bucky and whoever else was down there than the two alpha primes and their surrounding packmates.

Before you could even take a step towards the still wide-open window, the black-haired man appeared with a green flash and wrapped around you tightly. “Shhh , pet, no. No windows for you, darling, come now—back to your nest.”

In a moment of truly unusual harmony, your consciousness and hindbrain agreed that the bed was the last place you wanted to be. That wasn’t your bed, the omega hissed tearfully, you’d never made a nest—that wasn’t yours. It could barely be called a nest, even. There hadn’t been any careful consideration regarding the placement of the pillows and blankets, there were no articles of clothing or soft items that had been scavenged or stolen to elicit a feeling of safety or comfort. Worst of all was the way it smelled. Obviously, it didn’t reek, the mix of individual scents wasn’t a bad conglomeration, but your hindbrain whined at the unfamiliarity. This wasn’t your pack’s scent.

The cohesion was jarring, and you groaned. Regardless of the reasoning, your hindbrain was aware that you didn’t get to have a pack and that reminder always hurt. It desperately desired one, but an omega’s primary objective was survival.

After all, you in all of your fully conscious state knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would never have a pack—it wasn’t a matter of wanting or not wanting at this point in your life. You were too old to be regressed into the type of omega that packs wanted, your body too badly reliant on the chemical reactions produced by suppressants after fifteen years to stop taking them. At your age, to be found by a pack meant death.

They would get sick of trying to fix you. You’d die from quitting the suppressants cold turkey. They’d beat you for disobedience until your body gave up. You were nearly thirty and that was ancient for an unbound omega and you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. Especially an old dog who was bound and determined not to be taught.

“LOKI!” Bucky bellowed as he stomped past Steve and the redhead on the stairs, looking three shades past furious.

The man holding you let go very quickly after that, spinning you away and moving to intercept the furious delta with an equally unpleasant expression. Why couldn’t you have just fucking kept it together upon meeting Bruce—that blood in the water, shark nosed asshole, if you had reigned in your panic there was no way he could’ve scented you through your suppressants. Steve was a different story, but if you’d been quick and calm you probably could’ve made it.

You scanned the room quickly; Bruce was on the bed, checking on Wanda. Bucky and Loki were on the floor fighting, half entangled with Peter and Sam who were doing their best to put their own fight aside to keep the deltas from killing each other. Steve was still halfway down the stairs with the other redhead, talking to her quietly. Tony was—

“Okay, princess, okay,” Tony was wrapped tightly around you from behind, carefully keeping your head braced between his chin and shoulder when you tried to thrash. “This isn’t fair to you, you’re way too fragile for this right now. Put your head here, breathe with me.”

“Please let me go,” you didn’t realize you were crying until you spoke, words coming out in sobs. “I don’t want to die like this, please—”

“You are not going to die, little love,” Thor sounded so sad from where he came to stand in front of you. “I’m not going to bond you, not while you’re so upset. But the results of the tests Bruce ran showed that you are in danger. I cannot allow that and no matter how angry you are with us, we will not let you suffer needlessly.”

“I’m not suffering! I swear, I swear I’m not suffering I’m, I’m happy! I’m happy living my life the way I have been. Please, let me have the choice, I want to be alone, it makes me happy!”

Trying to explain to a literal God why you deserved personal agency was an exhausting business, especially when said God was as condescending as Thor. His indulgent and sad smile was nearly enough to tip you over the edge, but there really wasn’t a point in getting angry—he obviously couldn’t even fathom the concept that what he was doing was wrong. It’s not like you could do anything anyway, you weren’t built for violence but for running away. Every bone in your body vibrated with rage; the injustice was overwhelming.

For fifteen whole years you’d been just fine. You would’ve continued to be just fine, if it weren’t for some super nosed freaks crossing your path. What were the odds of the only people in the world who could scent you from beneath more than a decade’s worth of suppressant use would have a cabin in Quebec that you happened to clean—and run into said people because they happened to show up early; an incredibly unusual situation.

It made you think about Mrs. Hunt. She’d only called to give you a heads up because of the last time, when the homeowner had tried to assault you even while he’d thought that you were a beta . You wondered how long it would take her to realize something was wrong; it was getting late and you’d yet to return her cart despite telling her you’d be there shortly.

The real question would be whether she tried to help or not once she discovered your presentation. She could try to help, try to stick them with omega theft, but they could claim civic duty like Peter had earlier. Besides, that was contingent upon her wanting to help you considering you’d lied to her for so many years.

“You’re so distressed, won’t you let me purr for you?”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare take away—”

“Little love, please—”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t even know me,” you spat, turning to address the room at large. “What kind of fucking superheros are you? Let go of me! Let me go!”

Tony sighed and hefted you up into his arms, one wrapped around your torso while the other hooked under your knees and pinned you carefully across his body. You struggled uselessly against his strong hold; he wasn’t as strong as Thor or Steve, but his bicep was massive next to your head and you could feel his muscles through his clothes as he walked to the bed.

“We can’t, princess,” he murmured into the side of your head as he lowered both of you to the bed, sitting propped against a mass of pillows in the corner. “We’ll never find an unbound omega in your age range again. Plenty of omegas have been offered to us, but they’re all practically children. You’re our last chance—”

“There are plenty! You said plenty! Pick the oldest who wants to be in this fucking shit show and leave me alone!” Everyone tensed when the tone in your voice approached a shriek.

“We’re not taking an omega who’s not even legal to drink—”

“That alpha is like eighteen!” You tried to gesture to Peter, who gaped at you like you’d wounded him, but your arms were still pinned tightly to your sides.

“Peter is twenty-four, actually,” Tony spoke with mirth when Peter jumped onto the bed and crawled until he was pressed against Tony’s side and your back. “And before you ask, Wanda is twenty-six.”

“We’re so lucky to have found you,” the alpha half purred, pressing his nose into the back of your neck. “We’ll make you happy, happier than you are now.”

“It’s gonna be a rough start,” Bruce laid down in the nest a few feet away, welcoming the woman you recognized as the Black Widow into his arms when she slithered into the bed. “We have to balance your hormones, or you will die. You wouldn’t have lasted another year on those suppressants.”

“Death would be a reprieve,” you hissed shortly, freezing when the tone of the room immediately changed.

All attention was suddenly on you, Bruce still making direct eye contact with those sad puppy eyes, “I know that feeling, sweetheart—”

“We will do it another way then,” Thor interrupted, sending Bruce a quieting but loving look. “I said I would not bond you while you are in distress anda I will never break a promise to you. Open your mouth, this will be quick.”

Steve seemed to sigh in response and followed to stand next to the other prime, “I lost my chance. You’ll help her?”

Thor leveled the shorter blond with a careful look before nodding, both showing signs of deference and affection and respect that you did not care for. The rattle of a belt prompted Tony to turn you, setting you carefully between his legs while continuing to hold down your arms with what could appear to be an affectionate bear hug. He even linked his fingers with yours, squeezing gently as you tried to squirm.

“No. No, no no no, that’s disgusting, I won’t—”

“Shhh , I’ll do all the work little love, all you need to do is swallow.”

He was jerking his cock carefully, a flick of his wrist near the head catching your eye. That was a dangerous weapon, the same way you’d come to learn Steve’s was and you had no intention of letting it anywhere near your mouth. You clamped your lips shut, teeth grinding.

“Stubborn,” Peter snorted a laugh and you would’ve snapped at him had his hand not dove between your thighs, fingers gliding through the slick lips of your cunt until he found your clit.

You had to stop yourself from screeching, the head of Thor’s cock directly in front of your face. “Very. Come on now, open up.”

The fingers pinching your nose shut came as a shock, you’d crushed your eyes shut out without realizing it and they snapped open when your face was assaulted. Steve was kneeling on the bed, carefully cutting of your air supply with one hand and stroking your head with the other.

“Come on, precious, you’ve gotta breathe,” he stated softly, smiling when you were forced to pull your lips back to gasp for breath—until he realized your teeth were still locked together. “Really ‘mega?”

The next thing you knew his thumb was shoving against your molars, literally prying your jaw open. There was no way to fight it without hurting yourself, especially once he wedged his thick thumb between your top and bottom teeth. You barely had a second to anticipate the horror before an unnecessarily large cock found it’s way between your lips.

You tried to shriek, your brain finally catching up to the whole series of events, but it was no use. His scent was overwhelming and his dick stretched your lips, your jaw forced completely open. Thor groaned, a triggering noise as he very carefully pressed forward until your mouth was completely full and he was settled against you tongue.

“Suck for me, little love, just a little,” he grunted, just barely working his member between your lips while his huge hand stroked the rest.

It took a surprisingly small amount of time for a massive load of cum to shoot into your mouth. It was thick, and the way that Thor growled immediately made your pupils blow wide like you’d done a line of coke.

Your body went lax immediately and you swallowed on instinct when a hand gently rubbed your throat. The fuzz in your brain was the result of arousal, a brutal orgasm that rocked your body at the sound in combination with your body’s sheer delight at the taste of alpha cum. Somewhere you realized that was disgusting but the haze in your brain made you more focused on the hand between your thighs rather than the indignity.

“Man, this shit ain’t fair,” Sam complained, panting from the exertion of trying to prevent Loki and Bucky from killing each other. “They get to cuddle and we—Hey! Quit that, man!”

“All of you stop fighting,” Steve’s alpha order was brutal and effective.

The sounds of scuffling from behind Thor stopped immediately and there were huffs and snarls and low grumbles but the nest started shifting all around you. You were dropped back to lay against Tony’s chest, having inadvertently swallowed the entirety of the god’s massive load.

“She’s so cute,” Wanda cooed from somewhere to your left.

“We’ll need to go over what we’re doing from here,” Steve sighed once everyone had settled, still watching your dazed expression with a small smile. “But let’s just… nest for a bit, okay?”

The word nest triggered something in your half alpha-cum stoned brained and you looked around the den with a displeased expression. It was a terrible nest; all of the pillows and blankets were in weird heaps and the scent was so wrong. You didn’t really want to nest here, your hindbrain grumbled in agreement, but you’d fix the damn thing. You whined and wriggled until Steve gave Tony the go ahead to stop fully restraining you.

The bed was incredibly soft, which was an upside and crawling across it was like sinking your knees into clouds as you collected the soft heaps of blankets and pillows as you went. You wanted everything off so you could start from scratch, brain muddled by the wrongness of the current layout. You wanted to wash the sheets, the pillow cases, the blankets, all of it. The scent wasn’t right.

“Help her.” It was a quiet request from the Black Widow, who’d also started shifting around to remove the items. “She doesn’t like it like this.”

It was easier to get everything pushed away and in neat piles with the packs’ help, everyone immediately moving to help organize the pillows. You only snapped at the blond beta—Hawkeye, your memory supplied— once for putting a soft blanket on the pile with the not soft blankets. He immediately gave an apologetic burr to which your hindbrain purred back instinctually; evidently a good reaction.

“Why does she like Clint? They haven’t even spoken.”

“She doesn’t like him, she snarled at him!”

“She hasn’t purred at anyone else!”

“Shut up, fuckin’ idiot.”

The noise you made was one of discontent and disdain, the arguing deltas immediately quieting. You didn’t argue with the chirping growl that meant displeased omega, not in a real pack where the goal was to keep omegas pleased and docile. Somewhere your brain reminded you that this wasn’t your pack but the alpha hormones filling your blood and confusing you and yet somehow all you could focus on was whining and pushing at pack members to get them out of the way as your rearranged; clicking your teeth grumpily when you were handed a blanket instead of a pillow or vice versa.

You found yourself being corralled back into the corner, where Natasha and Wanda immediately wrapped themselves around you. Thor had found Bruce and settled beside and settled near your feet where you’d built an intricate nest wall of pillows and blankets. Two of the deltas, Tony and Loki seemed to be glaring at each other—even as Tony laid himself completely on top of the other and they both relaxed into comfortable holds.

It was interesting, watching the pack dynamics as they moved between each other. Clint wrapped around Natasha from behind the same way Carol found her way behind Wanda. Peter had weaseled his way into curling against Loki’s side while tossing a leg over the man’s hip, subsequently laying it over the backs of Tony’s thighs. Sam, Bucky and Steve all found their way into a neat grouping on the bed closest to the stairs, piled as close to the subsequent piles of superheros as possible.

There was some sort of pattern beginning to form in the back of your brain but you were still too confused, too sucked into your own omega hindbrain by the overwhelming introduction of alpha hormone to your system. Instead of following the thought through to the end, you found yourself warm and comfortable and full and falling asleep tucked between the groupings of presentations as if it wasn’t totally, 100% against your will.

content warnings: forced cum eating, chemical manipulation, dead dove: do not eat

#avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #carol danvers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bruce banner x reader #clint barton x reader #peter parker x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #dark!avengers #dark!AU #pocketful of posies chapter 6

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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The Problem With Birthdays

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You want to enjoy your birthday with Loki, but your fears that one day no one will love you are keeping you from having fun. Warnings: a bit angsty; fluff A/N: 1/2 Happy Birthday to my best friend @lokistan!! 🥳🥳🥳 May you have the most wonderful day ever. As requested, here’s a birthday fic for you! I hope you enjoy ❤️ 2/2 This is technically a sequel to The Secret Admirer, but you don’t have to read that to enjoy this 😄

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Darling?” Loki called, walking into the common room where you were on the couch, book in hand.

“Right here, my love. What’s up?”

“We need to talk.” He came and sat beside you as set your novel down. He took your hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your knuckles. “About your birthday.”

“You know how much I love talking to you, but I actually have to go meet Carol and Lauren in the lab. Talk later?”

“You are avoiding this,” he replied simply as you stood up. “You know you can tell me anything, right my darling?”

You stood before him and fidgeted with your charm bracelet, a nervous tic you’d picked up ever since you started wearing it. It had been a gift from Loki back when he’d been your secret admirer, not your boyfriend. You were beyond happy with how things had worked out, and your relationship was the most pure, perfect thing you’d ever experienced. Still, doubts filled your mind. You’d never dared hope he was actually your secret admirer those many months ago, but you’d fantasized that he was. It was an understatement to say you’d been pleasantly surprised when he came clean. The smile he’d given you that night was perhaps the most radiant one ever.

“I know,” you finally replied. “Just, later. Ok?”

“As you wish.”

He pulled you back down for a kiss before letting you go to the lab. He had a feeling you’d made no plans to meet up with your friends, but if you wanted to go, he’d never hold you back. And that extended to if you wanted to leave the relationship, which is what he feared was happening now. With a sigh, he stood, too. He had a party of sorts to plan. Nothing big, just a small dinner for the Avengers. He knew that’s what you would want, considering how you seemed to wish to avoid anything to do with your birthday in the first place.

Meanwhile, you arrived at the lab where your two best friends were testing a new invention. You smiled as Lauren, Tony’s newest lab assistant, tested what you could only figure were jet pack boots of some kind. Kind of like the ones on the Ironman suit, but disguised to look like normal shoes. Carol flew beside her, making sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself. Captain Marvel was in between intergalactic missions at the moment and was staying at the Tower to help keep an eye on things here on Earth. You didn’t know what it was about the two of them, but the three of you just clicked, and were now an inseparable trio.

“Hey! What’s up?” Lauren greeted once she had both feet planted firmly on the ground again.

“You look upset. Everything ok?” Carol asked, propping her elbows on one of the lab tables.

“Relatively ok, I guess,” you replied, playing with your bracelet again. You were holding the horse charm in between your thumb and forefinger. Loki had given it to you as a gift, a reminder of when he’d confessed his feeling in a horse drawn carriage. “Just not looking forward to tomorrow.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Carol said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s silly.”

“Look at me,” Lauren said, gently gripping your arms and giving you a light shake. “Don’t say that. Your feelings always matter; they’re not silly.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That means a lot to me. But, really, it’s alright.”

“Fine. But we’re here if you need us,” Carol said as they captured you in a group hug.

As you thanked them again, you could only hope that tomorrow would come and go without much fanfare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you woke up so cozy in your bed, you didn’t want to get up. Maybe you could while away your birthday in bed, pretend you were sick. But, no. You knew that would only push celebrations back, not stop them.

“Good morning, darling,” Loki said, knocking on your door. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” you called in reply. “Come in.”

“Happy Birthday, my sweet,” he greeted, walking in. He sat next to you on your bed and planted a kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered close to your skin as if he was hesitant to let you go, as if he thought he’d never be allowed to kiss you again. You looked up, your nose brushing against his, and kissed him on the lips. He smiled. “And how are you doing today?”

You’d never actually told him what was wrong yesterday. You wanted to talk to him, you really did, but you worried that by telling him your fears, they would come true.

“I’m ok, I guess.”

“Just ok?” he gasped. “Well, I know what will make that better.”

He waved his hands and trays of foods came flying in. There was bacon and pancakes and pastries and fruit bowls and just about everything else you could want. Honestly, it was far more than you could eat, but you definitely planned on sampling everything. You beamed at Loki, hugging him as he pulled you onto his lap.

“Breakfast in bed, darling?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, please,” you grinned back.

You sat for a while longer, eating and watching your favorite show. Eventually you decided you might as well get up and face the day. Loki left to go make the final preparations for dinner while you showered. A little less than an hour later, you reluctantly got out of the warm water, and sat on your bed once more in a robe, just staring at a wall. You don’t know how long you stayed there for, but it took a great effort to stand up and get dressed.

Once you had on your comfiest pants and favorite sweater, you tried to leave the room. You ended up flopping down on the bed again. You wanted to spend the day with your friends, not to mention Loki, the love of your life, but your worries were petrifying you.

“Is everything ok in there?” Loki asked, at your closed door once more.

“Sort of.”

“May I come in?”

You got up and opened the door for him. If only it was as easy to do that metaphorically as it was literally. He gently cupped your cheeks, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin, an unasked question in his eyes. You looked down, unable to bear disappointing him. It hurt you to shut him out like this; you’d always been honest with each other. You gave him a shy smile as he carefully tilted your head up and kissed you again.

“I, uh, I guess I promised we’d talk,” you said.

“You did, but I will not hold you to it if you are uncomfortable sharing.”

Gosh you loved this man. “I want to talk, it’s just...” you sighed, and pulled him back over to the bed to sit again. “Birthdays are supposed to be a day to celebrate, right?”

“Indeed they are.” He softly caressed the side of your face, looking very much like he wanted to kiss all your troubles away. “Because we all love you.”

“Well, that’s just it,” you whispered, your voice soft as you turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in your eyes. “What if one year everyone realizes that they don’t love me? Then I’ll be spending every year, every day, every minute alone. I... I don’t want to lose you.”

Loki held you to his chest as you began to sob, wiping the now fallen tears from your cheeks. He cooed and kindly shushed you as you got it out of your system. You’d held it in so long you’d grown numb to the pain, but now you were feeling it full force.

Loki moved your sweater out of the way and kissed your shoulder, moving up your neck and to your wet cheeks. His heart broke a little bit as he tasted the salty drops on his lips. He so wished you hadn’t kept this bottled up, that you’d shared with him. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but he did also feel a spark of happiness at the moment of your confession since he thought you were about to say you didn’t love him anymore. Your thoughts were quite the opposite, in reality, and he cursed himself that he let you think that way for even a fraction of a second.

“I will always love you, darling,” he said as your cries slowly came to a stop, leaving hiccups in their wake. “And when I say always, I truly do mean forever and beyond the constraints of time. It was like a dream when you told me you felt the same way. My very own heavenly angel loved me, too. My heart, my soul, my passion, my darling. My love. Your insecurities are valid; everyone is allowed to have them. But I beg of you, come to me next time. We can work through them together.”

You sniffled to stop another set of tears. “I know. Thank you, Loki. I was worried that if I told you, you’d realize that you didn’t love me. But I know you do, really. And I love you so, so much, too.”

He pulled you down to be laying on the bed and wrapped his body around yours. When you were feeling better, you chatted a bit, keeping the conversation light after the heavy topics you’d been discussing. You finally told Loki you felt ready to go out and face the day, which was more then halfway over at this point. He checked to make sure you were certain of your decision, and after a kiss to each of your eyelids and the tip of your nose, escorted you out of your room.

“Happy Birthday!” the Avengers greeted you as you made your way into the common room.

Loki had taken your desire to keep celebrations simple to heart. There was a banner and some balloons, but that was it in the way of decorations. As for the team, they gave you kind hugs and thoughtful gifts, but no one made too big of a deal out of it. No shouting or crazy partying, just some quality time spent doing puzzles and playing board games and watching movies. Carol, Lauren, and a few of the others even hilariously recreated some of your favorite scenes from the films you’d picked. Of course, they were all making sure you knew you were loved and appreciated, too. In other words, it was perfect.

Dinner and dessert, your favorites served at both, were also amazing. You spent the time reminiscing and sharing stories from your childhood. Soon after, you retired to your room. After you got changed into your pajamas for the night, you met Loki in the living room of your large quarters. He was fiddling with something you couldn’t quite make out.

“What’s that you got there?” you asked, perching on the couch next to him.

“It is another gift for you, my darling,” he replied, presenting it to you.

You opened up the small pouch he’d handed you and pulled out a charm. It was a key, and you immediately added it to the growing collection on your bracelet.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

“And that is not all,” he grinned as you looked at him with excitement and surprise written plainly across your features. He pulled out a charm of his own on a necklace, hidden by his shirt. It was a heart with a lock carved into it. You looked again at the key and realized it would fit perfectly. “I want you to know that you have the key to my heart. I love you, my angel.”

“And I will protect it with everything I have in me. Because I love you, too, Loki. More than I can ever say.”

“Happy Birthday, darling.”

It may take some time, but you think you could grow to like your birthday. At very least, as Loki kissed you again, you knew you never had to worry about being left alone. No, not when Loki would be there for you until the end of time and every moment after.

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

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Their Doll 4

Y/n Stark

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: the avengers find some stuff out about y/n

Warnings: swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"SO there's some weird HYDRA girl locked and sedated in my basement? Cool, don't want to know." Tony dismissed, not looking up from his white mug as he tipped a generous amping of sugar into his black coffee. He swirled the liquid in the mug and turned around, leaning against the counter as he raised the drink to lips lips and took a sip before sighing intently. Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tony, I don't think you get it, I ran a DNA test and-"

"And she's probably some innocent girl that went missing years ago and was never found? I get it, I feel bad for her but at the end of the day she has nothing to do with me." Tony dismissed, pushing away from the counted to deposit his now-empty mug in the sink. He turned the tap on, rinsing out the cup before carelessly placing it on the drying rack.

"Just, please, come and see her. You won't regret it, and if you do - dinner's on me?" Bruce suggest, arms outstretched in welcome. Tony rolled his eyes, before scoffing.

"Yeah, no. I'm good. Catch you in the lab later though?" Tony was quick to deflect, exiting the room with so much as another glance. Bruce's hands feel to his side with a slap as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

...

Bruce nervously paced the lab, desperate to tell someone his horrifying discovery. The click of the door made his head snap up, a smile of relief spreading his on lips at the sight of Nat.

"Nat, finally." He sighed, walking towards the scowling girl.

"What did you need to tell me Bruce? You sounded pretty urgent when you called." She pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. His smile faulted, his gaze dropping to his hands where he fondled with a biro pen.

"I- uh. I made a... discovery about y/n." Bruce confessed, finally meeting Nat's eyes.

"Go on.." Nat prompted. Bruce took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Bruce-" she started.

"Y/n isn't entirely human-"

"Well we knew that much."

"It's what she is, that's shocking. Looking threw all her blood tests and whatnot - it's showing she has an ability to manipulate minds when she s-sings. It's like a certain note her voice forms that can control the minds of people around her."

"So what is she?"

"I don't know, there's not really a name-"

"A siren. She's a siren." A third voice joined the room, and both the avengers' heads snapped round to the direction it came from. In the door stood Steve, shoulder leant against the frame and ankles crossed.

"Who's watching y/n?" Nat asked.

"Clint. Anyway, my father - he used to read me a story when I was a kid. The Odyssey, I believe it was called. It was a Greek myth about a bewitching girl who lured saloons in with her voice so she could feed off them." Steve continued, pushing himself off the door frame and walking further into the room.

"There's no way that's real, though." Nat dismissed, frowning heavily at his words.

"No, no. He has a point - I mean, look at Steve. Look at me." Bruce said, gesturing to himself and Steve. "We shouldn't be possible, but science does some crazy things. Y/n was with HYDRA, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well, what if they did this to her. We know she was taken when she was young, so what if they did so to experiment on her?"

"I should go talk to her, you know - girl on girl. She seems to like me, maybe she knows what she is and she might open up to me, if I ask nicely." Nat suggests, walking out the room when she was met with no protests from the two men.

"There's something else I should mention." Bruce started fidgeting again, which man Steve's brown knit together.

"What is it, Bruce?" The super-soldier prompted. Bruce continued to fidget, not looking up from him hands as he spoke.

"Are you aware Tony used to have daughter?" Bruce asked sheepishly.

"Tony had a daughter?" Steve said, brows now raised with genuine shock. He knew of Tony's...escapades from before he was with Pepper, but he couldn't see Tony as the type to actually keep a child from just a one-night stand.

"She was adopted, some kid he found on the streets with no parents. So he took her in, raised her and then she just disappeared. Many people have forgotten she existed, and those that remember her are all under the impression that she is dead. I thought so too, until..." Bruce paused, flipping through some papers on his clipboard until he found what he was looking for. "Until this." He finished, handing the board over to Steve.

In Steve's hands was proof that matched y/n's DNA to that of Tony's adopted daughter.

"Well that explains the name, and her hesitation to tell us who she really is." Steve frowned, eyes scanning over the paper repeatedly. Bruce hummed in agreement, taking the clipboard back from Steve when he held it out for Bruce to take. "Do we tell Tony?" Steve asked after a moment.

"He doesn't want to know, I've tried telling him but he doesn't care." Bruce told Steve and Steve pressed his lips together as he thought. "I do think we should wake her up though. If she's Tony's daughter there can't be anything that's more dangerous about her than you expect her attitude." Bruce said and Steve nodded, suppressing a laugh.

"I'll tell Nat to wake her up." Steve said as he exited the lab.

...

The steam from the shower engulfed me, my hands running through my hair and brushing out the tangles lightly. As I scrubbed the shampoo from my scalp, I hummed a small tune - thankful to be somewhere noisy enough that I wouldn't risk affecting anyone with my powers. After waking me up Nat told me to clean up and get changed before handing me a pile of clothes and telling me that she would meet me at my room in half an hour to take me to meet the rest of the team.

Shutting the water off, I slid the glass door open and my feet padded onto the thin bath-mat. The towel wrapped around me as I patted my hair dry with another one, looking over my scarred figure in the large mirror opposite me.

A large scar spanned the width of my stomach, smaller remnants of cuts littering my thighs that were joined by one larger one from where I was once stabbed. Looking at myself over my shoulder, I observed the large scars that spanned over my back, the layers fading at different degrees from their varying ages. The memory of how I got them brought tears to my eyes, which I was quick to blink away and focus back onto what I was doing.

Pulling the large sweatshirt Steve had lent me over my head, I left the large bathroom clad in a pair of leggings and some socks I borrowed from Nat. I brushed my fingers through my wet locks, detangling them. I threw the towel onto the bed in the room I had been assigned and plopped down next to it, taking my time to survey the room I barely got a look of earlier.

The door to the en-suite bathroom I just exited sat on one side of the room, accompanied by a big closet and a dressing table. A chest of draws was propped next to the king sized bed the sat in and the free corner housed a small kitchen. It had a stove, fridge-freezer, sink and a few cabinets. On the side sat a kettle, toaster, blender and some chopping boards.

A sharp knock on the door bought me back to my senses, making me perk up a little at the sound of Nat's voice.

"You feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good, well Steve and Bruce want you to meet them in conference room 4. I'll take you." She quickly added the last part in seeing my scared face.

As we walked down the halls we chatted, talking about our pasts and finding out that we were fairly similar - we were both forced into the bad things we did, we both found a way to redeem ourselves, neither of us have ever had a boyfriend and we both love chicken noodle soup.

"Well, this is it." She announced, pointing at a door to our left. I nodded, going to open the door before pausing and turning around.

"Thank you. For taking me with you, for giving me this chance, for hiding me from HYDRA - thank you, really." I spoke softly, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster.

"No problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew we could've helped you. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"I genuinely can't thank you enough - you saved me." I said, quickly swiping away the threatening tears with the heels of my hands.

"I was nice meeting you, y/n."

"You too." And with the last words said, I pushed the door open, walking into the room and being instantly greeted by Bruce and Steve.

"Hey, y/n, why don't you take a seat and we'll get the introductions out the way?" Bruce suggested and I nodded shyly. I took a seat next to Steve, who appeared to shuffle slightly away from me but I couldn't be sure.

"So, another midgardian?" a bulky man with shoulder length blonde hair and a red cape clipped to his shoulders broke the silence. He was clearly the God I'd been hearing about - I mean how much more of a costume does he need to look like Thor?

"Yes, we think so." Bruce confirmed. I frowned at this. Midgardian? What the hell was a midgardian?

"We think she's been tampered with, like me," Steve elaborated, "but as far as we know, she is of this earth." Steve spoke and Thor nodded. "We are keeping her safe from HYDRA." Steve said to break the silence as they all stared at me with funny looks. I kept my eyes cast down now, cheeks hot with embarrassment after feeling so many eyes on me at once.

"Does she-" I interjected the second I heard another voice. I stood abruptly, pushing me seat back and wincing at the screeching noise it made before resuming my angry face. I slammed my hand down the table as I stood, catching the attention of everyone sat at the table.

"If even one more of you refers to me as 'she' rather than just fucking talking directly to me I am going to end up sirening one of your asses!" I demanded, seething with anger. A grin broke out on Thor's face.

"Atta girl, I like this one already!" He laughed and I sat down again, smiling contented ay his compliment.

"She's got Tony's patience, all right." Another man remarked with a smirk. Steve simply rolled his eyes as common menus about my attitude were thrown around the room. Finally, someone addressed me. It was a woman with Blonde hair and kind eyes. She looked motherly.

"Hey, I'm pepper." She smiled kindly and I quickly reciprocated it. They went around the table - the man who had commented about my patience was called Clint, the blonde man was was indeed called Thor and obviously I'd already met Bruce and Steve.

"I'm y/n." I returned and she repeated my name in her beautiful voice, almost as if she was testing how I'd felt in her mouth.

"Y/n. A stunning name for a stunning lady." Thor commented, boyish grin still in place and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, cut it out big guy - you're like, a billion times her age." A voice came from the door and we all turned to find out who it was.

"Tony. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us." Steve said in a monotone voice and Tony gave him a tight smile.

"You don't get everything your way, Capsicle. Now, who's this?" Tony said, stuffing a mouthful of blueberries in his mouth before stuffing the bag of food in his back pocket and motioning to me with a nod.

"Tony, this is y/n," Bruce said moving out the way from where he was standing so Tony could see my face. The man's eyes widened instantly as the recognition sank in. "Y/n Stark."

#smut #captain america #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky #steve roger fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve Rogers image #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #marvel

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years ago

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Wildcard, Chapter Six

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra Soldiers

Warnings: blood/violence, murder, suffocation, scars

Words: 1.9k

A/N: Hey guys! This fic is a little shorter but I hope you enjoy it and please let me know how you like it!

Link to the taglist

You slept peacefully for the first time in over a year. You opened one eye to peek at your surroundings. The small cabin bed room was filled with the beautiful morning light, shining through the white curtains. The sun did justice to the man sleeping opposite you, the sheets pushed down to his waistline, following the deep V of muscle. The strong metal bicep was tucked under his head, his face was completely relaxed. His other arm was draped over your naked shoulders, holding you close to his side. You closed your eye and let your hand trail from Bucky’s collarbone down his torso, memorizing the ridges of muscle. You felt him shift slightly as he woke, you turned your head to face him, resting your chin on his chest. His eyes opened slowly, blinking at the brightness of the room before they settled on you, looking up at him sweetly.

“Mornin’ Buck,” You said quietly, your lips tugging up into a smile.

He smiled back at you sleepily, running his hand through your hair, “Good morning, doll.”

“So what is our plan today? I know we are going to train but do we have a video conference with the team?” You asked, propping your head up on your hand.

Bucky groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, “Why are you already trying to start the day, we are still in bed.”

“Then come on, Barnes,” You said sitting up, the sheet falling from your bare chest, “Let's get out of bed then.”

Bucky grinned mischievously, “Absolutely not,” He wrapped an arm around your waist, throwing you back down onto the bed under him, making you squeal.

You stood in the center of a clearing with Bucky, studying the trees surrounding the both of you. You had walked from the cabin to find somewhere you could train and not cause a forest fire. You adjusted the sleeves on your training suit, as they rubbed uncomfortably against the scars encircling your wrists. You watched Bucky set up various targets around you, today we were going to try propelling sharp icicles, or at least creating them and then throwing them like a knife. You felt something else stir within you as the wind blew harshly through the trees. You have had this feeling before, the tingling sensation underneath your skin, begging to be released. You let the ice seep from your pores, encapsulating your hands, hoping to scratch the itch of power from inside of you. The wind blew harshly, causing your anxiety to spike. You whipped around as you heard a noise come from the tree line behind you.

“Hey Buck? Something doesn't feel right…” You started, you turned back around to face your friend, finding him on the ground with blood coming from his hairline. A dark haired man stood over him, with a gun pointing down at Bucky. You recognized the man from your nightmare the night before and your heart dropped.

“Hello, pet.” The man spat out, grinning at you nastily with yellowed teeth.

You took a step forward, but the man's index finger flew to the trigger quickly and you froze. “Why are you here?” You asked him, raising your hands up to show you were unarmed.

The man's grin faded, and turned into slight annoyance, “Here to collect my property, but there were some obstacles.” He gestured the gun at Bucky, who stared up at him in disdain, “Nobody has to get hurt if you just come with me, pet.”

You assessed the situation and looked down from the man, to Bucky. His eyes were angry until they met yours, they were filled with concern. He held up the number three with his fingers by his side where you could see. You started formulating a plan as he put down a finger, two. You could feel the buzzing underneath your skin as the wind blew your hair back, then it clicked. Bucky’s last finger went down and he shot his hand upward, grabbing the man. The man turned towards Bucky, pushing him away and aiming his gun at your lover. You flicked your arm upwards, creating an ice barrier between the man and Bucky. You started walking towards the man, feeling the fire escape from your eyes. He watched you with a grin, almost as if he was sickly proud of himself.

Bucky circled the wall of ice, forcing the man's attention elsewhere. The man shot at Bucky's metal arm, which ricocheted off to somewhere in the tree line. You heard rustling behind you and turned to greet eight more assailants, who were probably with this guy. The man bared the mark of hydra on their suits as they advanced towards you. They circled around you, their rifles pointed straight at you. Your hands shot up into the air, pushing the fire from your body. Most men jumped back, but at least two of them were caught in the flames. You could hear Bucky behind you trying to defend himself, no doubt from more men who came to the fight. You created circles of fire around each individual man, trying to contain them away from you. Forcing your way through the plethora of men, you made your way to your friend, your lover. Bucky was fending off the four men who were throwing themselves at him. One man had Bucky’s neck locked in his elbow, Bucky maneuvered himself, using his metal arm he punched the man in the ribs until he was released from their hold. Behind you, your fire was extinguishing, freeing the men you trapped from the circles of flames. You halted your approach to Bucky when you felt the cool metal of a gun against the back of your neck.

“I’d stop right there, pet.” The man behind you said, his voice dripping with venom. You held your hand up in the air, watching Bucky surrender to the men around him. The men grabbed Bucky and half dragged him to stand in front of you. “This could end now, pet. You can come with us now, willingly, and Soldat will live,” Bucky flinched at the name, “or you can refuse, and we will kill him here in front of you.” A hydra soldier stepped up behind Bucky and cocked his own gun, pushing it into the back of Bucky’s skull.

Bucky swore under his breath, “Y/N, you're not going with them.” You kept your eyes trained on the grass in front of you, feeling the flames prick the back of your eyes like tears. You finally met Bucky’s eyes, your complete eye had turned white. Bucky looked back at you in pure confusion, in almost a blink of an eye you had reached back and disarmed the man behind you, striking him across the face with the butt of the gun. You spun around and stood, shooting the man holding Bucky hostage right in between the eyes. The two men who were holding Bucky down had long since ran away from the scene. Around you, a dome of swirling wind started forming, sheltering you from the rest of the soldiers who were attempting to rush you. You turn to see the man you had disarmed, starting to get on his knees. You grabbed the hair at the back of his head and forced him to look up at you.

“You made me this monster.” You watched his eyes fill with horror as he struggled to breathe. You were sucking the air out of his lungs, suffocating him, the way he had suffocated you between the doses he would inject into you. You felt the sickening satisfaction swell within you as he started turning purple.

“Y/N, STOP!” You froze, reality setting in as you stepped back from the man, watching him fall to the ground and fight for air. You turned back the color rushing back to your whitened eyes as you met him. You looked up at the swirling dome of wind around you as it disappeared. The field you were in was now empty, only filled with the quinjet. You looked up to see Natasha escorting a hydra soldier into the jet in cuffs. In front of the jet, stood Steve. Steve watched you with worry in his eyes, he had just watched you almost murder a man. You hadn't realized the ringing in your ears was drowning out every noise ever. You watched as agents from SHEILD came to arrest and transport the man who had made you into this monster.

You remained silent the entire trip back to the Avengers tower. You sat at the back of the jet, away from the people who cared about you most. The ringing in your ears had not ceased, only grew more annoying. You ignored the worrying glances from the avengers as you surveyed your hands. You were so capable of many things, but what were they? You pulled your sleeves back from the jagged scars around your wrists, shivering as the memories came flooding back to you.

The metal underneath your skin never ceased to draw the goosebumps to the surface. Your face was stained and swollen from the tears you had shed from the previous dose you were given. Today was a new room, same experiment table. The room you were in was comparable to one where you would get a CAT scan or MRI done. The only difference was, this room could be depleted of oxygen in under a minute, suffocating whoever was inside. Today the men had come in, and injected the same serum you had been given the last year, then wheeled you into this room. The ceiling was more interesting in this room as you studied the various vents and tubing. A loud buzzing noise brought you out of your thoughts and you turned your attention to the red light flick on in the center of the room, indicating the new cycle was starting. Your body tensed as your lungs heaved for stolen air. You could feel your face changing color and you prayed that you would lose consciousness. Your body was locked from lack of oxygen and you barely registered the biting pain from the cuffs in your wrists. You tried focusing on trying to get your wrist free instead of the immense pain of every vein in your neck popping from exertion. You heard the metal of the cuffs pop and you sat yourself up, easily ripping off the cuffs around your ankles. You held your throbbing arms to your chest as you located one glass wall. You threw your fists at it over and over again, watching it crack beneath your touch. You leaned up against the glass, considering giving in to the darkness at the edges of your vision. You gave it one more shot and threw your body against the glass, shattering it completely. The air rushed back into your lungs and you laid on the ground, savouring the oxygen. You groaned loudly and rolled onto your stomach before pushing yourself up, onto your shaky legs. Your legs were weak after months of no movement, you forced your way through the metal hallways, you leaned against the walls as you made your way around, searching for an exit. After a couple moments you found it, the gate that led out. You rushed towards the door and it opened with little force. The light of the sun blinded you for a couple moments, you squinted and stuck close to the exterior wall. In the air, you watched what almost looked like a plane land on the other side of the compound and panic swelled within you. You looked off into the trees surrounding the compound and you ran.

forever tags:

@lhiamelona-blog

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #marvel imagine

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finitepeace · 4 years ago

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fics i read this week:

I read some bucky x natasha fics:

Head Is Not My Home by taralkariel

Summary: The Black Widow is a legend. Legends aren't made cheap.

Shaken by the events of Civil War, Natasha Romanoff goes back to familiar ground to hide. To hide and remember how she became the Black Widow. How Natalia Romanova would do anything to save her father-figure. How she was one of 28 ballerinas with the Bolshoi - no, one of 28 Black Widow agents with the Red Room. How the only thing that made her feel human was a man with a metal arm.

(A story to show what really happened in the comics Red Room and how it could fit into the MCU)

19k words in 12 chapters, not rated (maybe T&up?), bucky nat up to IW, i think. it’s not very dark themed <3,

tell me baby, do you recognize me? by xocean

Summary: "You're a liar." Natasha is shaking. "You're a heartless, lonely, lying murderer."

He doesn't even blink. "We both are."

The Winter Soldier's game is up, and Steve's not letting him go this time. Enter the only person who doesn't want a part in this shitfest: Natasha Romanov.

Or, as James Buchanan Barnes remembers her: Natalia Romanova.

63k words in 10 chapters (from 11), angst.

and an IronDad x SpiderSon fic:

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight 💙

Summary: Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester.

He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

7k words in 4 chapters, tony acting like a dad (and awesome professor)

as usual, the rest are Stony fics:

American Dream by NobodysBloodyPrincess

Summary: Tony is trying, but try as he might he just can’t find the silver lining of this particular disaster.

After all, what happiness could possibly be derived from the knowledge that the perfect little girl in his arms is now motherless? What relief could be drawn, when his boyfriend of ten years, the love of his life really, is probably, currently, right at this moment in the arms of ‘Peggy’ his new fiancé?

13k words, no powers au, tony-centric, stevetony has broken up and tony adopts a kid, steve is depicted a bit insensitive (idk what the word, like unable to read the room?) here.

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy 💙

Summary: Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

233k words in 12 chapters, post endgame resurrections (?), gladiator trope, lots of action scenes, and THERE’S MORGAN x STEVE INTERACTIONS!!!!!

The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing

Summary: Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.

9k words, comic book’s civil war not MCU’s, angst but gnidne yppah

Together, Always by Sapphic_Futurist 💙

Summary: He swallows hard, a prickle of tears in his eyes because this is his husband.

This is Tony Stark and Steve’s husband, and Steve gets to have this. He gets to have this for the rest of his goddamn life.

30k words in 3 chapters, embodiment of stony’s “together” T_T, read the tags if you want to be spoiled lol if not then enjoy! (and I don’t regret not reading the tags tbh)

And I'd Buy A Big House Where We Both Could Live by shinkonokokoro

Summary: Missing: Tony Stark, billionaire businessman, heir to Stark Industries, reward: none

Only Steve didn't know that when he picked up the waterlogged unconscious man from the bank of a river.

59k words in 29 chapters, non-power au, kid clint and peter as steve’s brothers

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

Summary: Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that

6k words, fake dating into real dating

Home Is Where the Time Machine Is by Wordsplat 💙

Summary:Steve and Tony's daughter accidentally falls back in time, and learns that impossible time travel phone calls can and will be made just to ground you, big brothers are awful snitches, and parents used to date other people. The past blows.

23k words in 5 chapters, domestic, stony being married

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Summary: “Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

11k words, tony being peacefully oblivious while the whole world isn’t.

I Started a Joke by Naferty

Summary "Tony?"

"Who the hell is Tony?"

102k words in 11 chapters, tony is the winter soldier

Take Two by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Steve loses his memory but he gets the feeling he's lost a lot more. Who exactly is Tony Stark to him and why won't he come out of the basement?

24k words, i just love it.

Sunrise Over the End of the World by Sapphic_Futurist

Summary: When Dr. Strange arrives at an Accords Committee Meeting and warns of the coming of an alien megalomaniac set on destroying the world, the Rogues are pardoned and Tony finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be. Back at the Compound with Steve, who still can't take a hint and won't leave him alone.

In which Tony is broken and Steve finds redemption.

35k in 11 chapters, explicit, civil war fix-it up to infinity war

Far Away And Long Ago by Ragdoll (Keshka) 💙

Summary: Steve steps into the past and discovers that hope held on a pedestal is as insubstantial as smoke. Then he sees Tony. And that's when things get complicated.

Full summary contained within.

18k in 4 chapters, mature, seems like abandoned WIP :( endgame fix-it au when steve returns the stones...

Something More Than What They Are series by Sapphic_Futurist

An exploration of love, denial and propensity for change.

38k in 4 works, explicit, Steve and Tony are married during the civil war madness but seems like their love is not enough to stop it from happening or reconciling T_T

the marks you choose to leave behind by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Stane faction has been around for many years, long before Tony was bitten. And since he was forced, his life has been nothing short of misery and pain; a prison he will never escape. As a low member of the faction, his only hope at survival is to remain a loyal pet to Ezekiel. So when Ezekiel mentions the growing threat of the Avengers of the Undead, and the dreaded Captain, Tony is adamant to step up and do what he can. It’s also his last chance to see the outside world before he’s bonded to Whitney forever.

But what he finds instead is an unlikely companion with golden eyes. A strange werewolf by the name of Steve.

35k, general, vampire tony/werewolf steve, based on earth-666

La La Love by Wordsplat

Summary: "To be perfectly clear, Tony always knew that Stephanie Rogers was the best thing that would ever happen to him."

4k words, teen up and audiences, female Steve, highschool au, awkward tony

Meet Your Heroes by Wordsplat

Summary:Tony gets rescued by a highly concerned, very handsy Captain America. This is confusing for a number of reasons.

4k words, identity porn AU,

Hashtag Finally by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Tony doesn't ever actually ask the Avengers to move into his house, steal his wifi, eat all his food, and become the best family he's ever known. They do it anyway.

15k, teen&up, domestic avengers a.k.a. tower life, hyperactive Clint lol, super cute, everyone are stony supporters

Thanks For the Memories by Wordsplat

Summary: When Tony is sent crashing-all too literally-into the 1940's by an alternate-universe Loki's spell, neither Tony nor Steve are prepared for the consequences.

9k words, time travel au, secret pining

#stony #stevetony #irondad #bucknat #fics read

41 notes · View notes

justreadingfics · 5 years ago

Text

Looking For a Heartbeat - (26- Final Chapter)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Word Count: ~4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: sugary sweet fluff all the way, happy endings clichés because author loves them and couldn’t help it.

A/N: I need to thank @lesqui, @nedthegay and @suz-123 who on different times of the process of writing this long ass fic helped me by reading it and beta-ing for me. This is it, the final one. It almost feels like an epilogue, tbh. It’s been a long journey and as much as I’m happy with the end, it’s also pretty much bittersweet for me. I can’t express how important it was to read every comment reblog, messages and asks, to see the likes and reblogs, the yelling, the love, the laughs and loving words. There’s been so much love I can’t really deal with that, lol. Seriously, thank you. I hope the ending is satisfying, but I know there’ve been different expectations for this story. This is how I always imagined the ending, I hope you like fluff. More A/N at the end.

Masterlist link on my description.

The repeating sound of the pen hitting against the notebook is something you’ve grown used to and, as unexpected as it can be, it turns out to be kind of relaxing for you.

But not to the man beside you.

You glance to your left on the couch and see his leg bouncing. The drop of sweat running down his forehead is also evident as his arms are kept crossed in front of him. Bucky is obviously nervous and Heloise being so quiet while staring at him from under her glasses with an unreadable expression for so long certainly isn’t helping.

It was your idea to start couple's therapy with her and now it’s your first session together. Heloise has been helping you so much throughout this time and, as sure as you and Bucky are of how you both feel for each other and what you want from the relationship, it felt right to seek some professional support to help you find the right pace. Even with her peculiar ways – which you’ve particularly fond of by now- you know she’s the right one to help you.

Heloise clears her throat. The exaggerated loud sound cuts through the silence and makes Bucky flinch beside you. Her eyes finally advert from him to you while she points her pen at him, “Now I can tell why that other doctor went bananas for this one,” she deadpans.

Bucky chokes on absolutely nothing and you can’t help but smirk, “You should see him shirtless.” You wink at her, ignoring when Bucky gasps even harder than the first time and snaps incredulous big eyes at you.

Heloise’s shoulders move as she chuckles and writes something down on her notebook. Bucky cocks an outraged eyebrow at you. With a smile on your lips, you shake your head dismissively and give him a reassuring squeeze on the knee. He still seems unconvinced, though, eyes narrowing suspiciously at you. He’ll get used to her eventually.

Heloise claps her hands, grasping your attention, “Alright, let’s make this relationship last. Spill all the juice.”

~~~

5 YEARS LATER

The giggles are loud enough for you to hear from outside the front door of your apartment. Her giggles, to be specific. The smile comes out easily on your lips just to the sweet sound of it.

You take in a deep breath before twisting the knob. As soon as you walk into your apartment, the voices become clearer.

“Don’t lie to me, daddy.”

“That’s all true, I’m telling you, if Uncle Steve see a little tiny spider he’ll be quaking in his boots, my Sun.” Bucky’s voice is soft an amused coming from the kitchen.

Summer’s sweet laughter comes shortly after as they continue the conversation.

Wanting nothing but to hold them tightly before you get to tell them the big news, you drop your bag to the floor by the door and whistle the four tunes the three of you have come up with and that belong to you only. A way to recognize each other without needing any words.

They’re quiet right before you hear a chair scratching against the floor and tiny bare feet running to you.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy.” The little ball of energy rushes into the living room and lashes herself to your legs.

You’ve been on a mission for days now and you were only supposed to comeback on Sunday, but it’s one day before and your presence here is a surprise for her. A pleasant one, you can see.

“Hello, my little sun,” You laugh, reaching down to pick her up. She’s much heavier now at the age of 6 than she was as a baby, but you still love to take her in your arms just as much as you used to, especially after so many days away from her, depending solely on video calls whenever you had a little time to see her, “I missed you so much,” You lean back and take a good look at her, seeing how much she’s grown to look just like you – except from the eyes, which is all Bucky - and attack her little face with kisses as she squirms and giggles, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Me too.” She pops a long kiss on your cheek back as you step to the couch and sit down, keeping her on your lap, “Daddy’s making cupcakes, I know it’s almost lunchtime and he said he wasn’t gonna but then I told him I really, really, really wanted to eat his cupcakes because they are so good and better than the ones at the bakery, and then he decided it was ok, and then he made a lot of chocolate, vanilla with chocolate chips, blueberry, strawberry-”

As she continues her childish rambling, your eyes travel to behind her shoulder and meet the sight which will never cease to take your breath away. You take in a shuddering sigh as Bucky leans his side to the doorframe, arms crossed in front of him, watching you and Summer with that look in his eyes. That look that comes with a small smile and makes you very much aware of your thundering heartbeats and tells you how big his love for you and your daughter is.

Over grey shirt and sweatpants, he’s wearing his black apron, the one which Summer gave to him at Father’s day, after using her fingers to write “Super Dad” with white paint and he never takes it off when he’s in the kitchen.

You smile as he leans away from the doorframe and walks towards you. Without breaking his gaze from your, not even once, he sits beside you and pulls your chin for a kiss. You sigh through the soft and longed touch of his lips.

“Ugh, daddy, I was talking to mommy,” Summer puts her little hands on both your cheeks and pulls your faces apart from each other, making you both chuckle a the imposed separation.

“Sorry, honey.” He fumbles with her hair, “But daddy missed mommy very much.”

“It’s ok,” She forgives with her signature sweet smile, “I missed her, too.” She leans forward and lets her head rest on your chest, hugging you with a strength she should possess.

“Aw, I missed my two little suns so much,” You hug her back just as tightly and props a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky hums and keeps running his hand through Summer hair as talks again, “Not that I’m not happy with the surprise, but weren’t you supposed to be back tomorrow? How was the mission? Is everything ok?”

“Yes… I think it is,” You gulp, swallowing down the words that are desperate to come out but you still have no idea how to say them.

He frowns at you, not pleased with the answer, but visibly doesn’t want to start an inquiry in front of Summer.

“Did you fight a lot of bad guys, mommy?” She asks, not moving away from the spot where she’s nuzzled into you.

“I did, my sun.” You run your hand back and forth over her back, “Me, Auntie Wanda and Uncle Sam.” You tell her after placing a kiss on top of her head. She always loves to hear about your missions.

Her powers have been slowing showing signs, being mostly expressed on an uncommon intelligence that allowed her to learn how to read at 3 and build her first artificial intelligence (a little pug she named Maggie) at 4 with the help of her Uncle Tony, who’s always more than happy to allow her wander around his labs. Her physical strength is still shy inside her, but you know it will soon flourish. You know she’ll be a great fighter someday. Hell, she already is.

“I can’t wait to grow up and be a badass,” You and Bucky exchange looks due her choice of words but she goes on, unfazed by it, “Just like you and Auntie Wanda, and Auntie Nat, Auntie Carol, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Shuri and-”

“Hey, daddy’s pretty badass, too.” Bucky puts on an exaggerated pout, placing a hand on his waist.

“Of course you are, daddy.” She leans away from you and turn to him to pat his beard, “Your cupcakes are super badass.” She says, before continuing her chanting of the names of her super aunties.

You look at him and laugh at the smug satisfaction on his face by her answer before not being able to resist in placing a kiss on his cheek one more time.

The mission to rescue Summer five years ago was also Bucky’s last mission. It was no secret, that life was never what he really wanted and after discussing it in therapy and a lot of talking with you and Steve he decided it was time for him to dedicate himself to the mission of his life: taking care of his daughter, you and, most importantly, himself.

Whenever people ask, he says with a notable amount of pride in his words, that he’s a stay at home dad. By the way, he’s become very popular among other parents (mostly moms) that were regulars at the parks he usually takes Summer to. He doesn’t know, but there’s a group chat of moms where he and his qualities as a dad – physical included- are the main subject. How do you know that? After Summer’s kidnapping, you’ve become very keen to find out exactly who interacts with her, and being an Avenger is very useful to provide you the right tools for it. Yeah, you tell yourself that’s the only reason why you spy on those moms… but they’re harmless. You’re very fond of a particular thread where they mentioned how much he gushes about you.

“Mommy,” Summer gasps, “It’s Saturday, you’re going to uncle Harry and Auntie Nat’s house with us, too.”

“Yes, of course, baby. I can’t wait.”

Nat and Harry’s famous Saturdays Movie and Dinner nights. They’re your neighbors now. After the wedding, the five of them - Harry, Nat, the two kids and Harry’s mom- moved to a new apartment on the Tower for safety reasons. Tony has made the place impenetrable after what happened to Summer and nothing like that ever happened again.

You’re thrilled to have all your friends – your family - so close to you. Summer worships Jon and Luna, who’ve been growing up so fast, turning 11 real soon with a Harry Potter themed party, which you’ve been helping Nat to plan for her kids. Yeah, her kids. She’s not just Auntie Nat for Luna and Jon, anymore. It happened at Summer’s 3rd birthday party by one of the Tower’s pool, a year before Harry’s marriage proposal. Luna was running after a tiny stray kitty when she tripped on her toes and fell right to the ground. Her crying was loud as she held her injured knee close to her chest. Harry and Nat were at your table and they both promptly got up.

You could see how strongly Nat had to hold herself back to let Harry run to the little girl’s rescue, who already had her twin brother by her side, trying to console her but to no avail. She had already confided in you how much he loved those kids, but didn’t really know how far she could go with them without imposing. But what made the jaws from everyone around drop was when Harry kneeled beside the kid only to make her cry even harder and scream pointing at Nat, “No, I want my mommy.”

“Come here, mommy, please,” little Jon pleaded holding his twin hand and looking at Nat’s direction.

All eyes snapped at Nat and it was just a split second that she looked taken aback before rushing to attend the little girl, succeeding to calm down her daughter almost instantly with the help of her son.

While Harry kept a goofy smile on his face the whole day, Nat spent an hour crying in your bathroom. They ended up adopting the kitty which caused Luna’s trip and naming him Rocket.

“I’m so happy you’re here, mommy,” Summer throws herself into your embrace again.

“Me too, babe,” Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck, managing to embrace you and Summer with his metal arm.

Your eyelids flutter shut and you sigh, relishing in the pile of pure affection you’re under, breathing in the love they have for you.

The sweet quietness doesn’t last long as the child in your arms straightens up briskly, making Bucky’s arm drop from her back as she stares at him with widened blue eyes matching his, “Daddy what about our surprise?”

Bucky stiffens beside you as you turn to him, “Ooo, really?” You inflate the astonishment in your tone, licking your lips in anticipation. Surprise with Bucky and Summer when you come back from missions always means some delicious food he prepares to welcome you back.

You frown at how Bucky aims a flustered glare at Summer. Oh, this is new... Your narrowed gaze turns to your child to see her little hands flying to cover her mouth. You have to hold yourself back to not laugh at her theatre. You know her so damn well, you’re certain she didn’t let the said surprise slip out by accident and it intrigues you more.

“What are you two up to?” You tilt your head at Bucky.

Still looking at Summer, his expression softens and his smile is indulgent at her, before shifting his gaze back to you, “Well, I guess there’s no better time than now,” He turns back to her, whispering “I have an idea, come with me.”

Without further notice they both get up briskly, Bucky takes Summer’s hand and ran to the kitchen, leaving you open mouthed behind as you hear soft laughs and whispers between them.

Well, that’s just fitting. No matter what they might’ve planned for you, it’s rather unlikely it will beat the surprise you also have for them. You have absolutely no idea of how you’re going to tell them that, only that you must tell them soon or you will burst into anxious little pieces right there.

It’s only a few more minutes when, at the living room entrance, their sight catches your attention. You smirk while side by side they walk to you. Summer with a huge grin on her face, while a nervous little smile curls Bucky’s lips. You only notice Summer has one arm behind her back when they both kneel on the carpet in front of you.

You’re up till now amused face by their antics falls and your frantically beating heart rushes up your throat. Your suspicions are confirmed when Summer brings her arm in front of you and reveals the blue velvet box you thought was securely guarded in your bedroom’s safe. You hadn’t another sight of it ever since you moved apartments. She opens the box and there it is. The diamond Bucky bought you years ago.

“Mommy,” Summer’s sweet voice makes you lift your astonished gaze to her, “Will you marry us?”

A sob slips out of your mouth and you turn to Bucky to see the tears already shining on his expectant eyes, gleaming with warmth but also with a little bit of uneasiness, you can tell.

He pours all his love into his gaze to quietly mouth for only you to see, “Will you marry me, my love?”

“Yes.” You don’t need a second to think as you sob out your answer, “Yes, of course, I will marry you,” You repeat more steadily despite the tears and you drop to your knees in front of them to grab both of your loves into your arms. While Summer squeals her joy, you feel Bucky breathing deeply, holding you back as strong as ever.

“Thank God,” he whispers, “I love you, I love you,” he repeats in your ear, before trailing a path of kisses to your mouth.

You two turn into a couple of 6 year olds just like your daughter, giggling and laughing as he pushes away only to gently take the ring Summer was guarding in her hand and finally, finally put it in your finger, where it always belonged. You’re the one to grab his face by the neck and kiss him again, hoping he can feel all your love. You know he does as he kisses you back just as fiercely.

The shy giggles makes you break the kiss with a laugh of your own as you turn to your daughter and sit down on the floor, holding her on your lap as Bucky takes his place beside you, resting his back on the couch.

“I was so nervous you would say no, mommy.” She lets out an exaggerated sigh.

Your head falls back as you and Bucky laugh, “How could I, honey when I love you two so much, of course I would say yes… as a matter of fact-” You breathe in some intake of courage, looking from Summer to Bucky, before taking their both hands and placing them on your belly, “Not only I, but we will marry you.”

They both catch your meaning instantly as their eyebrows shoot high on their foreheads, the resemblance between them, expressed on their eyes and many mannerisms turning especially evident then.

“What?” Bucky whispers, still pretty much astonished and without taking his hand from your belly.

“I’m going to be a big sister?” Summer brings both her hands to her mouth, keeping her eyes widened at you.

“Yes, my love. I hope it makes you happy.” You try to smile to hide how nervous you are by telling the news to them. You’ve talked about the possibility of a new kid before and Summer even asked for a little brother or sister, but it was all speculation and this definitely unexpected. Something wrong might’ve happened to your birth-control pills and-

“Happy?” She squeaks the word in a high-pitched sound, “I’m super mega ultra happy.” She gets up from her spot and starts jumping on the carpet with her little arms up, properly celebrating the news, like only a carefree child would.

You laugh and feel a little bit of relief calming down your chest at her reaction, but the fact Bucky’s still silent and just staring at you with a dropped jaw doesn’t allow your heart to be fully rested.

Summer stops jumping to look at you with a vibrant sparkle on her face, “Oh, I have so many toys I wanna share with them.” She says before turning around and rushing to the direction of her room.

You can't help but laugh at her good-hearted energy, “Hey, sweetie, no, we can see that later-”

“I’m coming right back, mom.” She yells, already in her room.

You chuckle a bit more before you chew on your lower lip, looking back at Bucky, “Hey, big news, huh?” You tentatively say, “At least she took it ok-”

His lips are on yours before you can finish whatever you were going to say. With every caress, every brush of his tongue against yours, you feel each little muscle of your body relax and you sigh through the kiss when his hand fondles with your belly and his other one goes to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

“Is that true?” He whispers, letting his forehead rest against yours when he breaks the kiss.

“Yes,” You nod, wrapping your arms around him, “I got really sick several days on the mission and then I decided to buy a pharmacy test and voilà, here we are.”

You see his chest moving up and down as he takes in a breath, “I made such a shitshow back when you tried to tell me about Summer-”

“Bucky-” You try, not really wanting to remember those times right at that moment…

“I was such an asshole and I stole us the chance of living the news together,” he continues, stroking your belly and keeping his head linked to yours, “Now I have this second chance,” He lets out a breathy smile and your heart softens, “You make me so damn happy, I love you so much.”

“You make me happy, too,” You assure him, “You and our little family.” You pull him to one more kiss.

“Another kid?” He smiles, as the kiss is over, looking down at where his hand rests on your belly, “Will you want to find out the sex before birth?” He wonders.

“As a matter of fact,” you cringe, “I already know.”

“What?” He frowns “How?”

“Yeah, I mean… you know Wanda was there at the mission, too, right?” He nods and you continue, “And you know how much her powers have been enhancing? Well, she has a strong feeling and-”

“No.” He shakes his head, and his hand leaves your belly so he can put a finger on your lips, which you place a small kiss on, “I think I don’t wanna know this time.” He admits, shrugging.

You smirk, nodding to accept his position. But to be honest, you can’t wait to see his reaction when he finds out that soon he’ll have one more girl to call his.

“Hey,” You say, raising your finger with the diamond on, “What about this?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Oh,” It slips out of his lips as a blush creeps up his cheeks and he brushes the back of his neck, “I know I should’ve asked that sooner, but the life we have so far all always felt so good, I didn’t even think-”

“No, silly,” you chuckle, putting a small kiss on his lips for reassurance, “I know that, we already have been happy enough, it’s just- this ring, I had in a safe locked with a code, did you…” You tilt your head.

“Oh, no,” His head falls back as he puts his hand on his stomach to let out a laugh, before nodding towards Summer’s room.

Your jaw goes slack, “Really?” You frown.

“I found the missy playing with it the other day.” He says more proudly than he should.

“Are you telling me the 6-year-old kid not only found the safe, but also broke in the code to open it?” You scoff when he nods, still overly smug about it, but after the shock passes you can’t help but feel a little bit of pride, too. Right then you know that, if that’s what she’ll really want, she will be an exceptional Avenger someday.

“When I saw the ring after so long, I knew it was time. She agreed.” He brings a hand to cup your cheek, moving his finger to caress your face as his loving eyes meet yours, “We were planning a special dinner for tomorrow, but I think she just couldn’t help herself.” The crinkles beside his eyes are adorable as he lets out a soft laugh, “It’s always been yours, anyway.”

Unable to part your gaze from his, you sigh as your heart thunders against your chest. You’re about to kiss him again when the sweet voice you love so much holds you back.

“Mommy, mommy,” Summer pants and runs back into the living room, holding as many toys and stuffed animals as she barely can, even letting some fall on her way, “I think the baby will like these,” she points out, dropping the toys in front of you.

“Of course they will, baby. Especially if you play with them together,” You agree, fuzzing with her hair.

She raises her chin and gives a toothy grin before addressing to Bucky, “Daddy, I think we should celebrate with your cupcakes, what do you think?” It’s nothing but adorable when her little eyebrows wiggle with the suggestions at her dad.

“Hmmm, I think you’re absolutely right, my little Sun.”

“Yaaay,” She exclaims, raising her arms and bouncing on her little legs, “Which one do you want, mommy? I’ll go get it for us, we have all kinds: vanilla, chocolate, vanilla with chocolate chips, strawberry.” She counts the flavors with her fingers.

“Alright, I love daddy’s cupcakes, I’ll have one of the strawberry ones, please.” You wink at her.

“Ok, one strawberry coming your way right now.” She says before turning on her heels and bolting to the kitchen.

“Hey, what about me?” Bucky yells, but receives no answer.

You laugh loudly at the pout that forms on his lips before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek, “It’s just because I’ve been away, honey. You know you’re still the love of her life.” Your heart melts when his lips curl into a smile, still looking ahead to the kitchen, “And you’re mine, too.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

He tilts his face to you, fully smiling, before his eyes darkens and he leans in to run his lips up your neck, “Later.” His tongue teases the delicate skin of your neck, making you shrug your shoulders and giggle, “When we’re alone in our bedroom,” He drags his lips over your jaw and the giggle catches in our throat, “I can’t wait to show you how much you’re the love of my life, too. One time,” he kisses your jawline, “Two times?” the other side, “Maybe three…” his lips lock onto yours - breathless at the promise.

His tongue darts to curl around yours and the kiss deepens as you pull him to you.

“Ugh, are you two being gross again?”

You pull apart, laughing as Bucky whispers something like “so much like her uncle Steve”, under his breath.

“Says the girl with chocolate all over her face.” He scowls lightheartedly, when she’s closer to you and the remains of chocolate on her jaw is the evidence she had one sneaky cupcake in the kitchen, “Oh, I see someone remembered her poor old daddy exists,” he adds, spotting the third cupcake – chocolate chip, his favorite – on the little trail in her hands.

She giggles, placing the trail next to you and Bucky and squeaking in surprise as Bucky catches her in his arms and screams “Tickles attack,” making the little kid toss and squirm, before she manages to escape from him and latch herself into your lap for shelter, only for you to attack her with kisses this time, being followed shortly by Bucky.

Is not always that easy.

Is not always that perfect.

You two still struggle, you two still fight, sometimes over the stupidest things and other times over not so stupid ones. But it’s love…and, like you and Bucky have said before, love isn’t perfect.

You’re just not afraid of it anymore.

~~~

The End.

A/N 2: I’m having a hard time to detach myself from this story and I’ve seen a lot of people who writes drabbles/one-shots per requests or not for their story after the ending. I’m considering doing it next year if that’s something you guys would be interested, too.

Also, if you really liked this story, please, don’t hold back on sending me a message!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #looking for a heartbeat

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helloprettybb · 4 years ago

Text

champagne dream

I know I keep saying this, but I have so many fics in the works, just very little motivation. Smut is easy and plot is cool so I’m going to combine them. Also, for the dress, look up zac posen spring 2014 red dress.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

description: you and steve are very different people. where you are flirtatious and spontaneous, he’s uptight and patient. whenever the two of you are in a room together, tension is high, but not in the way the team thinks.

warnings: smut, unprotected (use a damn condom), cursing

word count” 4.2k

This place sucks. Steve misses the days where champagne was a luxury and owning more than one suit was rare. But here he is, stuck in Tony’s tower for the next five or six hours doing nothing but drinking alcohol, which is exponentially less fun when it doesn’t affect you, and people watching.

He spots a man in a nice pressed suit, who looks about Steve’s physical age. Steve doesn’t know his name so he’s probably some wealthy businessman or policymaker. Judging by the pale mark around his left ring finger and slicked-back hair, the man is looking to get lucky today. Steve’s suspicions are confirmed when the man breezes past him and a cloud of cologne follows.

Steve moves his gaze to a young woman. Unlike the other guests, she’s dressed in a modest dress that looks much cheaper than everyone else’s. When she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, Steve spots a pen. He rolls his eyes when he realizes a reporter managed to sneak her way in. Her black clutch probably holds her notebook and phone.

Turning his attention away from the supposed reporter, his eyes land on you. God, you’re breathtaking. You’re effortless and graceful as you waltz from one guest to another. You lay the charm on thick with your playful eyes and dazzling smile. Everyone you meet either wants to be you or sleep with you and that makes Steve mad. The thought of you in someone else’s arms infuriates him and it takes everything in him to stay put.

It wasn’t a relationship per se, or at least, a conventional one. It’s something more than friends, Steve knows that for sure, but he can’t pinpoint what it is exactly. While it started as sex only, it continuously felt less like a hookup and more like a deep connection. Sometimes Steve ends up in your bed without even having sex.

“Steve.” He hears a quiet whisper come from his phone. It’s nearly three a.m and Steve does not want to be awake. But sadly, he’s a light sleeper who can be woken up by anything, especially his phone going off.

“Hello?” Steve asks. He probably could have read the caller id to figure out who it was, but the bright light hurts his eyes and his grogginess hinders him from figuring out the voice.

“C-Can you come to my room?” the voice shakily asks. Steve’s heart breaks a little at the helplessness and he realizes why he couldn’t figure out who it was.

“I’ll be right over, doll.” Steve responds before hanging up. He doesn’t bother grabbing a shirt as he strolls over to your room in only his boxers. When he reaches your door, he opens it slowly and the sight makes his heart break a second time.

Your knees are to your chest and your head is buried. He closes the door behind him and walks over to your bed. Steve sits beside you and you look up when you feel the bed sink down. You’re sniffling and tears are streaming down your cheeks.

Steve removes the hair that’s stuck to your face and asks, “What’s wrong, honey?” Steve rests his hand on your face and you lean into it a little.

“I had a bad dream.” you reply quietly, tears still in your eyes. Steve’s never seen you this shaken up and vulnerable, so it must have been a pretty bad dream. He knows you have a rough past, but he’s never pried.

So instead, he whispers, “C’mere.” Steve barely opens his arms before you fall into him. You cry into his chest as Steve soothingly rubs your back. He feels the material and notices that it’s his shirt. Steve feels his pride grow at the thought of you going to his shirt before deciding you needed the real thing. Steve’s other hand lightly strokes your hair as he attempts to comfort you.

Your cries eventually turn to light whimpers and you pull away a little. You bite your lip unsurely and ask, “Can you sleep here?” You can’t make eye contact with him and you play with your hair a little.

“Of course,” Steve responds and you immediately meet his eyes. They’re still watery but filled with a little more life. You scoot over and lay down under the covers. Steve lays behind you and wraps his arms around your body. He buries his head in your neck and plants a light kiss on the side. Steve’s seen you naked numerous times, but somehow, you in his t-shirt, while he holds you in his arms feels more intimate and he loves it.

Steve continues to drink you in when he hears someone clear their throat beside him. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Steve turns his head to see Tony also looking at you.

Steve pulls his attention away from you and toward Tony. “Yes, I mean, anything’s better than our tactical suits.” he jokes to lose any suspicion.

Tony doesn’t seem to bite when he replies, “Hm, well it doesn’t hurt to have a body like that.” He knows Tony’s only saying that to make his blood boil, but the worst part is that it’s working.

“How would Pepper feel about you talking like that?” Steve asks to change the subject.

Tony laughs heartily and asserts, “There’s no harm in looking and it’s not like I’d actually do something.” Steve catches the emphasis and he glares a little.

“Shouldn’t you be making your rounds?” Steve questions to get the man away from him.

Tony concedes and responds, “Yeah, I guess.” Tony grabs a glass, which may or may not have been his, from the counter and before he walks away, he says, “Hook up with her before someone else does.” Steve wants to protest, but Tony’s gone before he could get a word in.

Steve sighs and asks the bartender for another drink. Leaning against the bar, Steve looks for you again, but it seems you’ve disappeared. Steve takes a slow sip from his glass and when he sets it down, he sees you at the other end of the bar. You make eye contact with him and smile, but instead of the bright, wide one you use on strangers, it’s smaller and a bit mischievous. You only smile like that towards him and Steve knows he shouldn’t feel this way, but he can’t help but feel special. You’re holding a glass of mostly full champagne. You probably grabbed it for appearances, but either way, Steve can’t help but imagine your small hand wrapped around his-

“Having fun, Cap?” Steve’s fantasy breaks when he realizes you’re right in front of him. You’re joking with him, but almost everything you say comes off as flirtatious, especially in this atmosphere. Leaning against the bar, you join him in people-watching.

“I am now.” Steve flirts back. He was never comfortable with flirting, but after spending time with you, he’s learned to get used to it. Steve adds, “I see you’re wearing the dress I wanted.” You laugh a little and turn to stand in front of him.

“Well, I had to reward you for not leaving marks.” you state, pulling Steve into a trance. He can feel himself subconsciously leaning towards you, but does nothing to stop it.

“You know I still left marks.” Steve leans closely so that his lips are almost touching the shell of your ear. “Only in places, I could see.”

Steve doesn’t know why you wanted him over. It’s barely two o’clock and while he would never deny a quick hook up, it seemed a bit early. When he knocks on the door, he hears a loud, ‘wait a minute’ and a rustling of clothes. After a couple more minutes, you finally let him come in. When he enters, he sees three dresses hanged up. “What’s this?” Steve asks, realizing how dense he sounded.

“I need you to help pick out a dress for the gala.” you state plainly.

“Really?” Steve asks, quirking his eyebrow.

“Yes! Now sit!” you command as you point at your bed. Steve sighs and plops down on your mattress. You grab the three dresses and head into your bathroom. He looks around your room as he waits. He’s never had time to notice the little things because he’s usually preoccupied. But now that he has the time, he notices there isn’t much to notice. Your walls are mostly bare save for a few paintings you picked up at the thrift store. He sees the full-length mirror propped against your wall and makes a mental note to fuck you in front of it.

Before he could continue his observing, you ask, “Ready, Steve?”

“Yes, I’m ready, doll.” he replies and you open the door. You’re dressed in a light pink dress with the straps down and your shoulders exposed. He lingers on the faded bruised on your neck before he moves down the dress. Gold embellishments connect the bodice to the skirt, which goes out and rests on the ground. A slit in front of your left thigh exposes most of your leg and stops just before your hip.

“Damn,” Steve curses, causing you to laugh. You stroll over to the full-length mirror and look at yourself.

“It’s pretty, but not my color.” you comment. Before Steve could add anything else, you are already in the bathroom. He waits another five or so minutes before you emerge again. This time in a strapless red dress. It’s much plainer than the first one, but you look just as beautiful.

“You look beautiful.” Steve states.

This time, you don’t go in front of the mirror and claim, “It’s too bright.” Steve wants to say that you look good in everything, but he holds his tongue and you disappear into the bathroom. Steve looks down at his phone and sees that Sam asked him to work out together.

He’s about to respond when he hears, “Okay, this is the last one.” Steve looks up and his eyes widen. It’s a darker shade of red than the last one. Held up by thin straps, it dips down slightly to expose a bit of cleavage. Red embroidered flowers dance around the front and if Steve wasn’t sold enough, you show him the back.

The fabric dips down to your hip and exposes your entire back. The tight dress shapes your ass perfectly and Steve’s jaw drops a little. You see his reaction and smile. “So is this the one?” you joke.

“Fuck yes.” Steve replies. You walk over to Steve and sit on his lap.

“Okay, but you have to promise to not leave any marks.” You kiss his neck and whisper, “I know how much you like my back.” With that, Steve flips you so that you’re beneath him and kisses you fiercely, planning to keep you there until he completely enraptures you. A couple hours later, he receives a call from a very annoyed Sam asking why he didn’t respond.

You remove yourself from the bar so that you’re standing in front of him. Setting the champagne flute behind him, you lazily wrap your arms around his neck. Steve keeps his hands just above your hips to avoid any suspicions. You seem to catch on, but instead lean closer to him. Moving your hands down to his chest, you ask with a coy smile, “Scared we’re gonna get caught, Cap?”

He responds, “Maybe. We don’t want anyone getting any ideas, right?”

You raise your eyebrow and ask, “Like what? Cause you know...” you’re so close that anybody nearby has to know something’s up. You whisper in his ear, “I’m all yours.” Steve’s mouth goes dry despite the three or so drinks. You laugh and pull away slightly. Steve desperately wants to take you to his room and fuck you into tomorrow, but he knows that he can’t just slip out.

As if some god above heard him, Steve hears a yell and numerous gasps. “You disgusting motherfucker!” a woman yells. Steve sees that she’s talking to the pressed-suit man. “How dare you come here to cheat on me?” The crowd gasps dramatically and Steve notices the secret reporter come out, notebook and pen in hand. Before Steve could continue watching the scene, he feels a tug at his hand. He looks down and sees you motion upstairs. He smiles as the two of you slip out while everyone is distracted. Steve follows you up the stairs and immediately towards his room.

Steve doesn’t even open the door before you pull him against you and into a searing kiss. It almost takes the breath away from him as he moves against you. Steve’s hands travel to your thighs as you continue to make out. You jump and Steve moves you up so your legs can wrap around him. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him like your life depends on it. With his right hand, Steve searches for the doorknob before he finally finds it and opens the door.

He carries you to his bed and sits down with your legs straddling him. Grinding down onto his hips, you moan and the sound is heaven to Steve’s ears. Steve breaks away before kissing down your neck. He removes the straps from your dress and the front falls. He groans lowly when he sees your chest fully exposed. Steve takes your right nipple into his mouth and you throw your head back. While he sucks on your right breast, he grabs your left and plays with your nipple.

“Fuck, Steve,” you moan. Steve separates from your body and you stand up to step out of the dress. You’re completely naked except for your black thong. You frown a little and complain, “It’s unfair that I’m the only naked one.” Steve laughs and undresses so that he’s left in his boxer briefs. You climb on Steve again and move to pull him out of his briefs. Steve stops your hand and you furrow your brows.

“Patience, honey.” Steve reprimands lightly as his fingers trail up and down your thighs. You pout that cute, little pout that little gets you whatever you want. Steve stays strong and chooses to play with the thin strap of your thong.

You whine, “Steve, I need you.” He finally gives in and moves your thong to the side. Swiping a finger through your folds, Steve groans.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll,” he murmurs before he slips a finger in. It goes in so easily that Steve adds a second finger soon after. He pumps his fingers, occasionally curling them up.

“You were eye-fucking me all night, Steve. How couldn’t I be?” you quip back, trying to hold back the desperateness in your voice and failing miserably.

Steve smiles with pride as he quickens the pace. He asks lowly, “So I’m the one that made you this wet? Not Bucky?”

Why are you dancing with him? He knows that your relationship is secret, but that doesn’t mean you could grind on his best friend. But here you are, wearing a dress so short that Steve could just slip his fingers up.

The music is loud, but all Steve could focus on is you and Bucky. Your ass is against his crotch as he wraps an arm around you. It makes Steve so angry that he almost breaks the glass in his hand. What angers Steve, even more, is that Bucky knows about the two of you. Being Steve’s best friend, he can notice the smallest differences in his mood. So when Steve started going straight to his room after missions instead of the common room, Bucky knew something was up.

Steve continues to watch you practically fuck Bucky on the dance floor when you turn to him. His scowl must be pretty obvious because you smile at him and wink. The next morning, Steve had to carry you everywhere.

You fall forward as he fucks you with his fingers. You cry out, “No, y-you. You’re the only one that can make me this wet.” Steve rewards you with a third finger. Your pants and moans grow louder and Steve knows that you’re close. Applying pressure to your clit, Steve watches as you fall apart on his fingers. You bury your head in Steve’s neck and try to muffle your moan. Your breathing starts slowing as you come down from your high.

“I wanna ride you,” you mutter into his ear, just loudly enough for him to understand. Steve obliges and pulls his briefs down. His cock springs up against his stomach. Pulling away so you can face him, you lick your lips at the sight of his throbbing dick. Pumping him gently, Steve bucks into your hand as you swipe the precum with your thumb.

Grabbing your hips, Steve helps you line up with his dick as you move his cock through your folds before sinking down. Steve mentally thanks Tony for the soundproof rooms for the first time tonight because anyone walking by would immediately know what’s going on.

You bounce on his dick as you chase your pleasure. You pull Steve into a hot kiss full of tongue and teeth. You move one hand up to his hair and card your fingers through his blond locks. You separate a little and groan, “Fuck, I-I think I might be close.” Steve helps you chase your release by moving his hand down to your clit. You’re barely doing any work as Steve’s strong grip pushes you up and down his cock.

“Ah-ah Steve!” You exclaim as your walls clench around him. Steve slows when he feels your cum drip down your thighs and you rest your forehead on his. Breathing a little less heavy, you ask, “Can you fuck me into the mattress now?” Steve whimpers quietly at your request and slowly pulls out of you.

You lay on the bed with your ass up. Steve strokes himself and stands behind you. He tries to control himself as he thrusts into your tight pussy. You shiver from the sensitivity and Steve starts off slow. One hand is on your hip while the other is on the middle of your back. He hears your muffled voice say ‘harder’ so he obliges. Pressing you into the mattress, Steve snaps his hips hard and fast causing your ass to shake. The air is hot and heavy as your muffled moans and Steve’s endless stream of cursing fills the room.

Whether you’re doing it on purpose or not, you clench around Steve’s dick. “Not gonna last long if you keep doing that, honey.” Steve admits.

You sound spacey when you respond, “Then don’t.” Your words spur Steve on and he fucks you even harder. Steve learned early on that you like it rough and dirty. He used to worry that he was hurting you but you assured him that you wanted it like that and ever since then, Steve hasn’t held back.

He wishes he could see your fucked out expression, with your face flushed and eyes fluttering. You cum for the third time with a whine. Dazed and swimming in bliss, you mutter incoherent words beneath him.

Steve can feel himself getting close when you breathily moan, “I love you,” As soon as Steve’s ears pick up on those three words, Steve cums instantly with a long groan. Once the fuzziness in his brain dies down, he slowly pulls out. You whimper a little below him and Steve’s jaw drops as he watches his cum drip out of your pussy and down your thighs. The dirty sight is almost enough to turn him on again, but then a reminder pops in his head.

You said you loved him. He’s never heard you say that and now that he thinks about it, you’ve never said it to anyone. He’s heard you proclaim your love for certain foods or a particularly cute animal, but never to another person. It must mean something if you said it to him.

While those thoughts run through his head, Steve heads to the bathroom for a towel and a glass of water. After finding a clean towel and filling a glass, he comes back to see you laying flat on the bed. Your legs are spread and shaking a bit. Steve tries to restrain his smirk as he cleans you up.

When he gets closer to your pussy, you whine quietly, “Too sensitive,”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Steve apologizes. “Here,” Steve holds the glass toward you as you turn to face him. You hum a quick thank you before grabbing the class and taking a sip.

Steve’s mind is still stuck on his previous thought. He wants to ask you about it but then he hears you yawn. Even though he really wants to talk about what you said, he knows that there’s no point when you’re so tired. Steve takes the glass from you and sets it on the nightstand. He walks to his drawer and finds a shirt for you to sleep in.

“Thanks, Steve.” you say, yawing in the middle of your sentence. Steve takes one last look at your chest before you cover it with his shirt. You move under the covers or Steve’s bed and lay on your side. Steve lays beside you and wraps his arms around your body.

You turn to face him and mutter softly, “Thank you,”

Steve furrows his brow a little and asks, “For what?” But he doesn’t receive a response. You’re passed out beside him and Steve decides that some things will be left unspoken.

Steve wakes up to you laying on his chest. A thin strip of light beneath his blinds shines on your hair giving it a golden hue. Your mouth is slightly open as you sleep soundly next to him. There’s a bit of drool on his chest, but Steve doesn’t mind. It’s kind of endearing to Steve. You’re so perfect and put together, so the image of you with messy hair and dried drool on your chin is refreshing.

Steve gives you a quick kiss on your forehead before moving to check the time. Looking at his phone, Steve is relieved to see that no one realized that you and Steve disappeared together. When he turns back to you, he sees that you’re starting to wake up.

“Good morning,” you murmur as you rub your eyes. Licking your thumb, you wipe the drool off of your chin. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten-thirty.” Steve responds and you nod. Once it seems that you’ve woken up a bit, Steve clears his throat and decides to break the ice. “So, can we talk about last night?”

You tilt your head in confusion and jokingly ask, “Um, like you fucking me into the mattress?”

Steve blushes a bit and shakes his head, “No, about what you said.” Come on, Steve, just say it. “You uh, said you loved me.” Your teasing smile immediately drops and it looks like panic fills your eyes.

“I did?” you ask, almost like you don’t believe it yourself.

“Yeah, when I was us, fucking you into the mattress,” Steve responds, mimicking your crudeness. You purse your lips a little and avert your eyes. “Did you mean it?” Steve’s confidence and feelings hang on your response.

“I-I don’t know. Do you want me to mean it?” you ask unsurely. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable. Vulnerability was never your strong suit and it was exceptionally clear now.

“I-if you want to mean it.” Suddenly Steve has become emotionally constipated, making this conversation a thousand times more difficult. You hang your head down sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just really bad at talking about things like...” you trail off, not even able to say the word.

“Love?” Steve finishes.

“Yeah, I don’t know what to say without ruining what we have.” you say honestly. Steve understands your hesitance. He doesn’t want to ruin your relationship, but now it’s too late to turn back.

“Anything you say wouldn’t ruin what we have,” Steve assures. You sigh deeply before confessing.

“I do love you, Steve.” your eyes are still avoiding his like you’re scared to see his reaction. But Steve wishes you were watching to see the uncontrollable smile growing on his face.

“I love you, too, y/n.” Steve responds. You lift your head so that you’re finally looking at him. Your jaw drops slowly and your eyebrows move up in disbelief.

“You do?” you ask and Steve takes that as a sign to say it again.

“Yes, I do.” Steve says gleefully, “I love you so damn much.”

You smile widely and you mutter in bafflement, “You love me?” Steve finds your surprise adorable and he sweeps you in his arms. Picking you up so that you’re straddling his lap, Steve pulls you into a soft, gentle kiss. The tenderness shocks Steve himself, even though he’s the one who initiated it.

You pull away slightly so that your foreheads are still touching. You whisper softly, “Does that mean I’m your girlfriend?”

“If you want to be.” Steve replies, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You smile a wide, genuine smile and reply, “I’d love that.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve x reader #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines

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iridescenthor · 4 years ago

Text

king & queen

Pairing; Peter Parker x Reader

Time Frame; Homecoming

Summary; You worry for Peter, more times than not. When he learns this he pulls you away from homework for the night and takes you on a swing around the city.

Warnings; strong language

an:// First fic on this account and first Peter fic ever lol kinda scared. I do write for multiple fandoms and requests are open!! For Marvel I write for Peter, Tony, Loki, and I’m trying to ease into writing for Thor but I can’t get his personality down good so it’s a work in progress :( I also will write for BTS, all Harry Potter characters, some 70/80s movies and more - feel free to send in an ask if you’re wondering if I write for someone specific. Thank you :)

School had been absolutely kicking your ass lately. Homework upon homework was being assigned in almost every class, and on top of that multiple quarter tests coming up that you really needed to study for considering the material being taught lately was just completely skimming right over the top of your mind.

Normally school came easily to you. You prided yourself in your ambition and intelligence, school had never been a problem for you. Now it was different, now you knew where your boyfriend actually ran off to every night. When he had first told you what the Stark Internship was, you had been ecstatic. Peter was Spider-Man? That’s amazing! It was something he genuinely loved doing and if anything it made you fall in love with him even more after learning he spent his days protecting the city for nothing in return. However it didn’t talk long for the anxiety to kick in.

Now instead of having the weary feeling in the back of your head that he was doing something behind your back, you had an overwhelming feeling of nausea at the thought that one of these nights he would never make it back to Aunt May - to you - safely.

Worrying for his safety was the main cause of your procrastination in completely work efficiently lately. It would never stop as long as you were with him, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t begin to work on at least keeping up your grades while waiting for him to text you that he was home safe for the night.

So, like you had been for the past couple of weeks since he filled you in on his secret identity, you tried to push your anxieties out of your mind and focus on the tower of work in front of you waiting to be completed. Sitting there like a lovesick teenager with your mind on your boy all night was not going to help you pass your classes.

An hour passed, and soon that slipped into two hours. You had managed to complete most of the work assigned but definitely not to the best of your ability. It was already half past midnight, and no text from Peter. You were completely aware that maybe he got caught up on the way home and someone needed help but it didn’t stop you from worrying. He’d usually texted by now, but so far there was nothing. You gave up on the homework for the rest of the night - opting to finish some during study hall the next day or just full-out leaving it all to do tomorrow night.

After packing away the remaining school materials into your bag, you changed into some comfortable sleeping shorts and one of Peter’s oversized long-sleeve shirts. Turning the lights off and slipping under the covers of your bed was the easy part, but no matter how many times you tossed and turned you couldn’t fall asleep without knowing if Peter was sleeping soundly in his bed or bleeding out in an alley on the other side of the city.

It was one on the dot when a soft tapping filled the burning silence of your room. You turned from facing your closet and spotted a crouched figure on your fire-escape. Your heart lunged happily when you recognized the familiar blue and red of the suit Tony stark made for him. You yanked the covers off your body and threw your legs over the edge of your bed, running to open the window as quickly and quietly as you could. Once it was open, you didn’t let even let him reach up to pull off his mask before you were throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. “I was so worried.” You whispered, pressing a few kisses to his collarbone.

He chuckled cutely, climbing in the window to hug you closer to him. “I’m sorry I showed up without texting you first, I forgot my phone at home. I just wanted to see you.”

You smiled, pulling away a little to grab the hem of his mask and pull it gently over his head. Finally you were able to look him in the eyes, and the realization that he returned to you safe once again was enough to immediately calm your nerves. He smiled at you, leaning down to press a short kiss on your lips.

An idea seemed to come to his head as he pulled away excitedly. “Hey, say neither of us were tired and we both wanted to get a little adrenaline rush before sleeping. Would you be up to it?”

You grinned, immediately pulling away to slip on some moccasins. “Are you offering what I think you are?” He nodded cheekily, turning to climb out the window once more. Once he was crouched on the railing of the fire-escape, he reached his hand out to you.

“Wanna go for a swing?” He proposed formally, a giddy grin pulling at his lips as you accepted his hand. He helped you out onto the balcony, before pulling you up to stand next to him on the thin railing. You looked down below, already feeling the excitement building in you at the sight of the ground twenty stories below you, as he helped steady you when a particularly strong gust of wind blew past.

He looked at you, adoration pooling in his eyes as he watched you hold onto the supports of the stairs that continued up the side apartment building. “Ready?” His left arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into his body and your response was immediate - not a hint of hesitation apparent. You trusted him, you trusted him with everything in you. You released the support beams and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

You pressed your nose affectionately to his cheek and smiled at the red tint building on his face - whether it was from the wind or the close proximity of your bodies you were unsure. “Ready.” You confirmed in a whisper. A grin spread across his face like wildfire, and in one swift movement he yanked the mask over his head, hoisted you up so your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, and jumped from the railing. Before you both were even halfway to the ground he shot out a web and latched onto the railing of a balcony on another building.

He swung you both forward, releasing the web and shooting out another one whenever need be. Every time your bodies dropped your stomach would squeeze and twist uncomfortably but the smile never left your lips. You moved your head so you were looking back over Peter’s shoulder as he swung, and immediately felt the air leave your lungs. This was what Peter saw every night? It was beautiful to say the absolute least. The lights from the city were all different colors and they were currently all blurring together from the speed of his swings.

You watched the cars driving on the street below and a laugh slipped from your lips. Peter reacted by squeezing your waist tightly with the arm holding you to him as he managed to finally stop you both on the rooftop of one of the fancy hotels in the city. He landed with a soft thud and moved a few steps away from the edge. You unwrapped your legs from around him, placing your feet on the gravel of the rooftop yet neither of you let go of each other. He pulled his mask off once more and laughed happily, pressing his nose to skin behind your ear, breathing in deeply. “How was it?”

With your chin propped up on his shoulder, you squeezed your arms around his neck in a tighter hug. “Amazing. So amazing.”

He pressed a couple slow kisses down your neck until his forehead was resting on your shoulder. “I love you so much.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you pulled away to look him in the eyes. You unwrapped your arms from his neck, opting to cup his cheeks in your hands as you spoke with unwavering adoration. “I love you too. So much more than you’ll ever know.” You leaned in, locking his lips with your own in a slow kiss. “I was so worried about you today. It’s the longest you’ve gone on patrol.” You mumbled against his lips.

“I’m sorry baby, I got caught up. Quite a few robberies for just one night, it was kinda weird.” He explained softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck again.

“It’s alright lovely.” You whispered back, tracing a circle on the back of his neck. “I just want you safe, that’s all.” You sat there for a while longer just embracing each other as the wind picked up. You shivered when you felt it whip at your bare legs. He felt you shake and immediately pulled away with a frown.

“Oh shit babe, you can’t sit out here with just shorts on - why didn’t you say you were cold?” He scolded gently, pulling you with him to the edge of the building.

“No,” You whined, trying to tug out of his grip. “I want to keep hugging you. You’re all warm and you smell good.” A blush rose up on his cheeks once more and a small breathy laugh escaped his lips. He tried to pull on the mask before you noticed his reddening face, but you would have been able to see how flustered he was from a mile away.

Once he was standing on the edge he pulled you flush against him, grabbing at your wrists and wrapping your arms back around his neck. “Cuddle?” He suggested, voice muffled by the fabric of his mask. “I can call May and ask if I could sleep over yours tonight?” You let out a squeak of excitement and nodded vigorously, jumping up to wrap your legs back around his waist with his help.

His left arm wrapped securely around you once more as he got ready to jump. “Sounds like a plan then.” He confirmed, and even with his mask covering the grin on his lips, you could still here the excitement coating his voice.

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visionsofus · 3 years ago

Note

Hey, my city has just been put into lockdown :( so I thought I might send a prompt... maybe something about some of the times Vision phases through Wandas wall? Idk but I hope you're well and I love your writing :)

hello! I am so sorry to hear that your city has been put into lockdown! I hope you are staying safe and looking after yourself. I bumped this to the top of my list so I could get you something nice to read quickly. It's mainly about Vision comforting Wanda but I hope it brings you some comfort too!

Mixtape track # 28: Time After Time cover by Theresa Sokyrka, Jesse Brown

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

synopsis: Three times Vision phased into Wanda's room unannounced and found her in varying states of disarray/ injury. Aka a fluffy comfort fic for those of you who need it.

Warnings: mentions of blood and stitches, illness (flu), mild swearing

Vision was sitting at the kitchen counter, a novel before him when Steve hurried into the kitchen and began rooting through cabinets. Vision placed a finger to mark his page and glanced up in confusion.

“Is there something you need help with, Captain?” He asked, curious at Steve’s haste. The captain jumped visibly, and Vision looked down sheepishly. The team was yet to grow accustomed to his presence in the Compound and he was still learning to be something like human. It was a slow process.

“Vision,” Steve said, a hand pressed to his chest in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Vision nodded. “What are you looking for?”

“Cold and flu medicine,” Steve replied, turning back to the cabinets and pushing aside two different bags of coffee beans and a pot of sugar. His hand scraped around the back of the shelf to no avail. “I know we had some here somewhere.”

Vision tilted his head curiously. There weren’t many at the compound who could fall ill, Steve and himself included. Tony was away with Rhodey in New York for the weekend, Clint was with his family, and from what Vision knew of Natasha, she didn’t seem the kind of person to accept medicine.

That only left one other person in the enormous building he now called home.

“Is Wanda okay?” Vision asked his voice sound slightly strained, even to his own ears. He hadn’t quite mastered control over tone yet but was getting better at identifying such markers in other’s speech.

“She’s okay,” Steve mulled as he moved things around, moving to another cupboard. Vision heard the concern in his voice. Forgetting his page, he shut his book all thoughts now directed to Wanda. Where could she have contracted an illness? Perhaps it was overworking, of all of them, Wanda pushed herself the hardest. The last few weeks had been particularly rough with training every day, minor missions interstate, and relentless press appearances.

“Aha!” Steve cried in triumph, holding up a packet of cold and flu tablets.

“I can take them to her,” Vision said jumping to his feet and moving swiftly to Steve’s side, a glass in his hand ready to fill with water for Wanda. Steve jerked back a little, evidently, he was still not adjusted to the synthezoid’s super speed.

“Okay,” Steve sounded hesitant as he passed over the thin package. “Don’t smother her, alright? She’s not in a very good mood.”

“I won’t,” Vision said pleased as he filled up the glass with water and headed off down the corridor. As he walked, he quickly had a look at what ‘smothering’ meant – why Steve thought he might cover Wanda’s head with a pillow, Vision couldn’t understand. A little more looking revealed it could also mean overwhelm. Vision shook his head, he would make every effort to not overwhelm her, he just wanted to make sure she was comfortable and provide anything that might make her feel better.

Out of Steve’s sight, he hurried quickly down the corridor that led to Wanda’s bedroom. Once he was close enough to her bedroom he phased effortlessly through the wall, bringing the water and pills with him.

He arrived in her room to find that the lights were out and the curtains drawn despite it being mid-morning.

“Vision?” Wanda exclaimed, or tried to. Her voice cracked and she coughed most of the way through his name.

He hurried to the other side of her bed, concerned to see her covers pulled up to her chin even as sweat made her forehead shine.

“What did I saw about knocking?” Wanda said, her voice hoarse, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“That I should?” Vision said hesitantly.

Wanda murmured something in affirmation, and he felt guilty.

“Sorry, I will next time. I brought you some medicine.” He set the glass of water on her bedside table which was cluttered with tissues, empty glasses and unfinished books.

“Don’t need it, thanks,” Wanda murmured, turning onto her side.

Vision sighed. She looked dreadful, which was saying something as he rarely found her anything but beautiful. Concerned, he slowly reached out to press his hand to her forehead. Wanda shivered, feverish.

“You have a high temperature; the medicine will make you feel better.”

Wanda opened her eyes blearily and huffed in frustration. She heaved herself up to lean against the headboard and held a hand out for the pills. Vision popped two of the night pills into her palm before extending the water glass. She swallowed the medicine and shivered again.

“When did you start feeling bad?” Vision asked, trying to make conversation as he hovered about her room, not yet ready to leave her in such a state.

“Last night, but woke up feeling like the plague this morning,” Wanda mumbled, slipping back down onto the pillow. He moved forward to pull her pillow up so she was more comfortable.

“Okay, well we’ll keep an eye on your fever,” he said nervously more to himself, feeling the need to speak the instructions he had read about online aloud. But Wanda’s eyes were already closed, and it seemed she was relenting to an exhausted slumber.

Vision bit his lip, unsure if he were allowed to stay in her room while she was asleep. Glancing at her bedside table he decided to at least clean up on his way out. With the empty glasses stacked and the tissues in the bin he set about opening up a window a little bit to allow for some circulation. Even if Wanda felt cold, her fever needed to come down. Finally, unable to see a reason to stay Vision went over to adjust her blankets. Seeing that she was peacefully asleep he pressed his palm to her forehead, glad to feel that she felt a little bit less warm. She murmured something sleepily but didn’t wake.

Vision returned to her wall with the glasses in hand and phased through it once more, leaving Wanda to her fever dreams. For the remainder of the day, he kept a keen eye on Wanda, phasing through her wall each hour to take her temperature and replace her water glass. She remained asleep or at least didn’t acknowledge his care, though each time he left her mouth twitched up at the corners.

“Wanda!” Vision’s voice was a singsong as he phased through her bedroom wall, eager for their promised game of chess. He had taken up teaching her the game not long after he had learnt it himself. There was no one at the compound who could play that well but he always had fun with Wanda. Even when Vision knew all the tricks, she still surprised him. In exchange they had been following up each game with a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was their Saturday night ritual now, though they had only known each other 6 months. Wanda had only just returned from the mission she had been on with Steve and Nat. Perhaps chess was off the table, but he hoped she would let him keep her company and watch some television. Vision struggled to understand how keenly he had felt her absence in the past week.

He phased through the wall and for a moment his sight was clouded. He emerged into the bedroom that he had slowly been acquainted with. Vision knew the view from her windows, the books on her desk, her guitar in the corner and the pattern of her bedsheets. His eyes checked off each of these features before looking to the bed. His heart dropped sickeningly when he caught sight of the figure laying atop the covers.

Wanda had propped herself against the headboard, her mouth twisted in pain as she nursed a gash that was bleeding all down her left arm.

“Wanda?” Vision whispered. Her eyes opened weakly, and she grimaced a smile.

“Hi.”

Vision was at her side instantly. “Hi? What do you mean hi? Are you okay what happened—”

“Shhh,” Wanda whispered, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. “Don’t want the others to know.”

“What do you mean?” Vision asked furiously. “You’re hurt, why didn’t you go the med bay when you got back?”

“Please,” she turned her eyes on him and he registered the pain behind her gaze. “Help me and I’ll answer any questions you want. I tried,” she gestured to the trail of thread she’d been using to stitch herself up with, “but my hands are too shaky.”

He ignored that she was half undressed, more focused on how her blood had soaked through the left side of her top and was dripping onto her bed. Vision spared less than a second before he was speeding away from her side. He trusted Wanda, if she said that she didn’t want the others knowing then he would wait to hear her reasoning. For now, he just wanted to alleviate her pain.

He thanked the gods for his super speed as he dashed down the corridor, down the stairs through two walls and into the empty med bay. He dipped in and out of the internet finding a reputable source for stitching up a wound even as he lectured himself for not understanding such an important procedure sooner. He grabbed more supplies, gauze and bandages, antiseptic and a fresh needle and tweezers. He sped back upstairs and arrived in Wanda’s room just as she was swiping tears away from her eyes.

“Sorry,” she winced, trying to sit up better as he set his supplies on her bedside table.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Vision said soothingly. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” Wanda sighed, her eyes closed as he set about propping her arm up with a pillow and a fresh towel to mop up the blood.

“Lucky I entered without announcing myself then,” Vision murmured perching himself next to her tense body. He wasn’t usually squeamish and managed to maintain a distance when it came to gore. But seeing Wanda’s blood trickling down her arm had his heart thumping far too quickly. He took a few calming breaths.

Vision straightened her arm and watched her forehead contort in pain, sweat beading. Silently he took the medical scissors and cut off the thread and the mess Wanda had made of her wound. On closer inspection he was relieved to see it wasn’t too deep and that the blood had stopped flowing. He cleaned and numbed the area.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Vision murmured as he helped her sit up taller, so she was at a better angle for the stitches.

“Feels bad enough,” Wanda winced.

He frowned at her pain. “Tell me about your favourite episode of Dick Van Dyke,” Vision prompted as he set about threading the needle. Wisely, Wanda decided to turn her attention to her sweeping windows and the clouds drifting across the amber sky.

“Season 2, episode 20,” Wanda said. “It’s not necessarily my favourite but it’s the episode I’ve seen the most. Rob watches this movie with aliens and monsters, it was scary for me as a kid, but I found it funny how out of control it became—” Wanda broke off with a pained groan as Vision began the first stitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Now it doesn’t scare me but it’s still eerie...” she trailed off to prepare for the next stitch. Moments later it was done, and she breathed out slowly as Vision tugged the thread gently, closing the wound.

“— it’s interesting to look back on the episode and –” She thumped her other first on her thigh as the needle dug in once more.

“—and see how far my life has changed since I first watched it – oh fuck that!”

Vision startled, not used to hearing her swear. “Two more and it’ll be done,” Vision replied, conscious that he was leaning over her torso and that there might have been easier ways to sit for stitching up the gash.

“Two more?” Wanda sighed her right shoulder slumping in defeat.

“Almost there, almost there,” he murmured soothingly, starting on the next stitch. Wanda cried out, biting her fist. His heart twinged painfully in sympathy.

“You’re okay,” Vision said, doing his best to be comfortingly. “One more and then it’s done, one more and it’ll be over.”

He continued to murmur small comforts, hoping his voice would distract her from the thin metal dipping in and out of her skin. Despite her pain he had successfully kept the stitches neat and hoped that they’d be suitable enough for healing. At least he had used the thread that dissolved as the wound healed and she could avoid the new pain of having them taken out once more.

As he pushed the needle in for the final stitch Wanda’s head lolled against his neck. He froze in fear.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “just, keep going.”

Her head remained pressed into the crook of his neck, her breath warming his skin in slow, controlled breaths. Vision did his best to focus on finishing off his work. He completed the final stitch, tied it up and cut the needle free. As he moved his materials to her bedside table and picked up the gauze, he became conscious of Wanda’s shoulders shaking slowly.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s alright, Wanda,” Vision said with a comforting smile, though she didn’t raise her head. He raised a hand and gently stroked the back of her head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I’ll wrap your arm up and give you something for the pain.”

Wanda sniffled against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re the only one who can phase through physical walls.”

Vision smiled happily; glad Wanda couldn’t see his reaction.

Vision hovered; his hand raised to knock on Wanda’s bedroom door. He’d been standing there for a few moments debating on whether or not to disturb her when he’d heard the soft noises of Wanda’s cries. Vision knew how she sounded when she was upset. In the year they had been living together there had been a few nights he had spent sitting outside her door, listening to her cry and waiting for her to fall asleep. Often, all she’d allow him to do was bring her food or a cup of tea, insisting she be left to her sorrows. But Vision was struggling to bear it tonight. He worried that she thought herself a burden, that she locked herself up in her room on her bad days as a way to save the rest of the team from her anguish. But Vision hated seeing, or hearing, her pain.

Unable to wait any longer Vision side stepped the door and phased right through the wood. The room was dark, and the air was still, Wanda hadn’t left her bed all day. Quietly, Vision walked slowly to her bedside and crouched beside her curled up form. The covers were pulled up over her head, her arms wrapped around one of her cushions. His throat grew tight with emotion as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda?” He whispered. The covers shifted and her head emerged, tear tracks looked as though they had made permanent lines down her face, dark circles hung under her eyes.

She didn’t say anything, just rolled over so that her back was to him.

“Is there anything that you need?” Vision asked removing his hand, hesitant to take her rejection, he’d wait until she explicitly asked him to leave. Wanda didn’t reply, her breath catching in her throat, and she shook her head slowly.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Vision said quietly.

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Wanda whispered, her voice hoarse from not speaking. Vision raised to stand, hovering next to her bed. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to banish all her sadness and protect her from fear.

“You could never be a burden to me, it is a privilege to be a part of your life.” His words sounded raw, even to his own ears and he heard Wanda hiccup emotionally.

It didn’t take much, just her hand emerging from beneath the covers to tug at the hem of his woollen sweater. It was all he needed to know she wanted him to say.

She shifted to make room and Vision settled onto the bed next to her. Almost reluctantly, Wanda slid closer though her face was still hidden. When he was close enough, he pulled a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. She leant in, sniffling tearily. When he held his arms open, she hesitated for a few moments, her body stiff with tension. Finally, she relented, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and allowing him to wrap her in his warm arms. The tears started again, and he rocked them back and forth as she trembled.

“It’s alright,” Vision whispered over and over. He rubbed a hand in circles on her back, holding her close.

They remained that way for a while, Vision let her cry as much as she needed, not feeling the need to ask what was causing her such anguish. She would tell him when she was ready.

“When you’re feeling up for it, we can go for a walk,” Vision said soothingly, “there are wildflowers out by the woods, I even saw some bluebells the other morning. Maybe you can point out some other flowers you recognise to me. I think the birds miss you out there.” He talked slowly about small things, none of them important but gradually her sobs slowed into hiccups.

“Thank you,” Wanda whispered into his shoulders, her hands tangled up in his jumper.

“It’s okay,” Vision said softly, “just because your brain tells you you’re alone, doesn’t mean it’s true. There are so many people who care about you. Whenever you need me, I’ll always be here.”

#WandaVision fanfiction #scarletvision fanfiction #wanda x vision #scarletvision #wandavision #vision x wanda #mcu fanfiction #scarletvision fic #comfort fic #visionsofusfics #fluff and comfort

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

Text

The Thief

Summary: Where do all of Bucky’s shirts keep disappearing to? Pairing: Reader x Bucky A/N: 2.1k word count. Silliness, fluff. Posters from the fic LOL

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

Bucky is missing another shirt on Saturday morning. He rifles through his closet, slapping the hangers to the left and down the pole where they clack against each other fearfully. Last week, this happened too. His favorite red Henley with the threadbare hem and black buttons— all day he had searched for it until—

Oh.

With a slightly exasperated groan and a backwards tilt of his head, he closes the closet door. Quietly, he slips out of his room and down the silent hallway until the chatter of voices from the kitchen meets his ears.

Wilson stands at the stove top, flipping pancakes the size of plates— heavy, thick, wheat ones, overloaded with blueberries. Steve is to his side, pouring milk and stealing fruit when Sam isn’t looking. Natasha is perched on the counter, sipping black coffee.

And then, his eyes skip over to the dining table where a pair of delicate feet are propped up on the glass, toes tapping off-beat to a tuneless song.

You.

No matter how many times Tony and Steve tell you to stop putting your feet on the table, you still do— almost out of spite and with glee. You match Steve in stubbornness and Sam in annoying-ness. You’re just a step behind Natasha when it comes to acting, too. The combination could be lethal if you weren’t such a lawless brat, squandering your talents on petty revenge.

You’re leaned back in the chair, comic book in hand with a silly lopsided smile and your hair tied in the messiest of buns. Strands loop out from the elastic, flop against your ear pathetically. There is a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of your mouth, and when you lick your dry lips, you lick it away too.

“Hey, when are those pannies ready?” You ask over the line of the glossed book.

“Don’t call them panties! And don’t rush perfection!” Sam hollers back.

“Okay…” You try again, “When are those pancakies ready?”

“Pan-cakes.” Steve sends over his shoulder, “Pancakes. One word, two syllables, no ‘y’ at the end.”

“Uh. It’s I and E, sir.” And when Steve sighs in displeasure, you tug the collar of the shirt over the bridge of your nose and hide your snickering inside. You pop a finger in your mouth and flip the page, leaving a wet round print on the edge. Tony is going to kill you when he finds out that you are desecrating his rare collection with spit.

With a snort and shake of his head, Bucky runs his hand through his bangs and walks up next to the table. “Huh.” He mumbles, finger rubbing the sleeve spilling from your shoulder, threatening to flood all the way down to your elbow. The specked brown fabric, slightly pilled is familiar beneath the pads of his thumb.

The very one he was searching for this morning. That timeworn thing, half falling apart because it’s been so many times washed.

“This looks familiar.”

“This?” You ask, eyes wide, “Is it— is it yours? Aw jeez, Barnes. I found it in the laundry room. It just looked so comfy.” One foot scratches the other and the shirt rides up your legs and folds against your stomach. Your rub the fabric against your collarbone, shifting it side to side, and the middle falls in-between your breasts, outlining the shape of you.

He has to bite down on his cheek to stop his next expression, but hums a noise of surprise anyway, “Wonder how it got in there.”

You shrug and blush, give him a fake demure smile before scooting your chair back and heading over to grab food. He follows lazily behind, watches the hem swing at the top of your thighs, a tiny inch of your athletic shorts peeks out underneath. You’re ridiculous, he thinks.

“Yummy yummy yummy, get into into my tummy.” You pull three pancakes onto your plate and Steve glares at the way you use your fingers even though there is a fork in your other hand.

“Your germs are gonna go into my tummy.”

Shocked, you press three bent fingertips to your sternum, “Captain, sir! It’s called a stomach! Two syllables. No Y!”

Steve follows your hand with a wry smile, then the slightest tilt of his head happens as he narrows his eyes on your chest.

“Captain Rogers, are you checking out my tit-tats?”

With a stutter, Steve flushes and turns around, busies himself with getting his own pancakes. Everyone else follows suit and soon enough the dining table is seated with all five, pouring syrup and cutting fluffy stacks into smaller pieces.

To his right, Bucky watches you roll up a pancake like a log and dunk it into a lake of syrup you’ve squirted on your plate. With your mouth full, you take your fork and steal a triangle from him. Syrup dribbles onto your— his shirt.

“We literally have the same food.” he complains.

“But… yours is better; Wilson put more love into yours. I think he put fingernails in mine.”

Across the table, Natasha smirks, “Arsenic, maybe.”

“Actually,” Sam corrects, “It’s rat poison.”

Behind another log dripping with syrup and melted butter, you grin and waggle your eyebrows at Sam, tongue slipping out beneath the roll to lap the dripping syrup away. Bucky kicks you under the table, a quiet reminder to stop being so obnoxious.

Instead of heeding his advice, you shove the rest of the sticky tube into your mouth and choke a little.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, turning away from where you are pounding on the table and coughing. “You dead?”

“Rest in damn pieces.” Sam adds.

Steve continues to stare suspiciously as you press your cheek to the glass surface and catch your breath.

You’re going to drive him crazy, he thinks.

He hides the smile behind a cut of pancake and a swig of coffee. A few more bites and he loads his plate into the dishwasher, returning to his room to take a shower, even thanking Sam for breakfast without an insult. Wilson looks after him curiously but takes the compliment where he can get it.

On his way back to his room, Bucky stops by the familiar door decorated with a single poster you printed off in the lab—a kitschy and poorly edited photograph of Sam with a rainbow-colored clown wig over his head, not even fully covering his hair. Underneath his torso are the words Sam Wilson Local Dumbass.

You had made it after a mission where Sam’s wing clipped your shoulder and your gun went off into a gas tank, blowing out half the floor. It’s been almost half a year and you still haven’t taken the poster down—vowing not to change it until the year passes. Petty revenge, Bucky scoffs to himself.

Bucky pushes past the door and yanks open your closet, staring at the piles of shirts and shorts, mountains of pants and dresses you’ve never worn. On top of each heap are a million pairs of panties, like you just grab your laundry basket and throw it in. You probably do. The doors are always shut probably because you have the object permanence of an infant and if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, too.

He laughs when he sees the assorted hangers on the pole, varying sizes and some bent completely out of shape. There are precisely four, neatly aligned next to each other, out of place with the rest of the disordered space.

His hand reaches up to tug on the familiar red Henley he found last week over your torso as you sat watching a movie with Natasha. You had tied an elastic band to the bottom of it, the tiniest sliver of your hip showing beneath.

Next to the red is a gray long-sleeve. Next to that is a cream-colored shirt he hardly wears but you mentioned one night that you liked seeing him in lighter colors. Ironic that you’d steal it from him, then.

At the end of the row, folded neatly over the bar of a plastic green hanger, is a single pair of his black boxers and he nearly hisses when he yanks it off in mortification.

“What?” Your voice calls from the doorway, “They’re clean.”

“Jesus! Why do you have these?”

A wide grin stretches over your mouth, “I wear ‘em to sleep sometimes. Mostly when you’re not here.”

“Darlin’, you got your own clothes.” Bucky smiles, wishing he could genuinely find your antics annoying and not so damn cute. Walking forward, his fingers reach under your shirt where the smooth plane of your stomach starts, other hand moving over your head to push the door close. “It’s hard to keep a secret when you’re so obvious about it.”

You whine, bratty again, and he shuts up the noise with a press of his mouth over yours, “It was only fun for like, two months.” You mutter into his mouth, “But really, Buck. Everyone here is so oblivious that we could probably fuck on the conference table and they wouldn’t notice.”

A strangled breath falls out of his mouth, “We- we haven’t—f—” He can’t even bring himself to say it, because unfortunately, he is so stupidly shy when it comes to you. “D-don’t say f...” His face burns red and he attempts to look at anything else but your devious smile as you tap a finger over the band of his sweatpants.

“Fuck?” You laugh, “Fucky-fuck-fuck, Bucky-Buck-Buck.”

Then, quick as a whip, you leap up and lock your ankles around his waist, knees splayed out to his sides. Automatically, his hands catch underneath your bottom. Three months of secretly dating and all he’s done is kiss you senseless in utility closets. And now you’re saying… Jesus.

You’re going to kill him, he thinks.

Leaning back, you almost pitch out of his hold but then you stop yourself and slowly shrug the shirt—his shirt from your torso. “You wanna, right? Three months, Bucko. You’re playing a slow burn game that I am not good at.” You grin and drop the shirt onto the floor, the sight of your bare skin turning his entire body hot. “Bucky…!” You whine loudly, bouncing in his arms, “Come on!”

He groans at the way you shift against his groin and thinks fuck it. If you kill him, it’ll be a good thing. Rest in damn good pieces. Bucky sighs and tilts forward, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. “Baby, you’re so—”

The door slams open and you yelp, falling out of Bucky’s hands and onto the floor on your back. “What the fuck!”

Steve is pointing, wide triumphant grin across his face, “I knew it! I knew that shirt looked familiar!” Bucky pitches forward, covers your bare chest with his body and nearly crushes you underneath.

“You fucking perv, Steve! Stop trying to look at my tit-tats!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve cries, turning around. Bucky kicks the door shut with his foot as you continue to curse out Steve on the other side of the door. With an amused sigh at the way your nose scrunches up as you hurl insults, he presses his nose to your collarbone again, licks away the stain of syrup you’d dropped earlier on yourself.

He wakes up in your empty bed around noon, groggy and a little confused as to why you’re suddenly gone. Disappointment and fear sparks in his chest at the thought of his lonely state. Was it bad? Maybe this is how you’re breaking up with him. Fuck—was it that bad?

Bucky slowly gets up, slips on his sweatpants from the earlier morning and scoops his clothes into his arms, mind set on clearing out his belongings from your room if the relationship is truly over, not even bothering to put a shirt on.

The hallway isn’t empty this time—down the walkway you are crouched with something in your hand in front of Natasha’s room, but you pay him no mind. Bucky tucks his clothing under his arm, turning around to close your door before his eyes catch sight of what’s been newly taped to it.

An enormous poster decorates the plain paint. Steve’s face is blown up and touches each corner. Over his eyes you’ve photoshopped two enormous breasts and under his chin are the words: Steve Rogers, Local Pervert.

Bucky sputters before a loud howling laughter tears itself from his throat as he pitches over to hold himself up on the door frame. It’s obscene—the petty revenge, it’s your worst one yet. He’s really going to fall in love with you, he thinks.

Down the hallway, you look over and grin at him, taping yet another poster to someone else’s door. Over your torso, again, as always, is his shirt.

#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes

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petersspidey · 5 years ago

Text

Art Class

A/N: Just another quarantine fic.

Summary: the four times Steve drew you, and the one time he didn't…. (except that's not a good summary. It's really just five times steve drew you,)

Warnings: Ok so… Pornographic pictures linked and you'll literally understand why when you read it and yes I did have to dig through (what's left) of the porn side of Tumblr… and smut lmao - also if the pictures didn’t link I'm rly sorry. I tried to make them :(

Masterlist

You were sitting in the lounge of the Avengers compound mid-quarantine. It had been weeks, and you were still inside. None of you had really gone out despite the fact that most of you were super-human in some way, Others of you were not. You, Tony, Pepper, and Natasha were all human, and didn't have any immunity to the virus.

You were sitting in the lounge reading your book when Steve came to sit down with you. You smiled at him when he sat down.

He shuffled awkwardly in his seat for a few moments.

"Panties in a twist?" you laughed, looking up from your book.

"No,"

"Well then what's up?" you asked

"I have to favour to ask you…" he said, still shuffling around in his seat

"What is it?"

"Well, the thing is, I'm-I-I am taking a class at Columbia and because of the quarantine classes moved online obviously and I was just wondering if you'd be free to help me with an assignment…"

"What class is it?" you asked

"W-well it's a life drawing class and I was hoping you'd be able to model for me. Usually a model would come into class and we'd draw them, but since we can't do that…."

You thought for a second, "Sure, Steve. I don't really have much else going on," you joked

You moved to go back to reading before Steve continued, "There's one more thing though…"

"What is it?"

"I-it's a nude life sketching class…."

You froze for a moment. Taken aback.

"Nude…?" you asked

"Yeah… l-look if you d-don't want to do this you don't have too. I-It's just t-that we have to sketch a woman and I figured that between the three women in the compound you would be the least likely to hit me when I asked,"

You laughed… "I can definitely see Nat hitting you, but I don't think Pepper would hit you if you asked her…"

"Yeah but Tony would…" Cap pointed out.

You sighed, and thought hard for a moment, "Look, Steve…"

"I'm sorry I asked, Y/N, I can just find images online or something," Steve said, cutting you off.

You laughed, "Steve, if you google images of naked women you're just going to end up finding porn, so…" you took a deep breath "I will help you, as long as you promise not to make it awkward."

"I promise. I really appreciate it Y/N,"

You sighed, "Just let me know when you need me to strip for you Steve,"

Steve blushed, "T-thanks, Y/N,"

The first time Steve drew you, when he opened his bedroom door it was more than awkward.

You stood in front of him, still fully dressed.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

Steve scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "Uhm...get undressed…"

You nodded, and began taking your clothes off. You could see Steve out of the corner of your eye, trying not to make it obvious you were staring.

"I didn't realize you had so many tattoos…"

You nodded, "Uh, yeah, I have 8. They're not really in places you can see them unless you see me naked,"

Steve smiled.

"Where do you want me?" You asked, standing in front of him, completely unclothed.

"Uh, if you don't mind I was going to get you to actually sit on my bed, and lean against my headboard,"

You nodded, and turned to face Steve's bed. HIs bed was messily made, with his all white sheets gently strewn across the bed.

Steve stepped in front of you and moved the pillows out of the way. You sat down, and leaned your back against the headboard.

"Can… can i touch you?" Steve asked

You were taken aback for a moment, "Uh...What?"

Steve stopped, "Oh god. I meant can I touch your legs to move them?"

He was blushing.

You nodded.

Steve lightly touched your leg, bringing it up so it was folded up against your body. He moved the other so it was crossed in front of you. He lightly grabbed your arm, and laid it out on the pillows beside you. He lowered your shoulder of the arm resting on the pillow.

(I tried to describe this as best as I could, but please look at this post for reference).

"Can you stay exactly like this?" he asked

"Yes," you said softly.

Steve moved away from you, and sat on a chair that he has seated at the very end of his bed.

He sat there and just stared at you for a moment, before looking down at his sketchpad and began sketching.

You watched Steve intently.

His eyes never really met yours, he just looked between you and his sketchpad for what seemed like hours. It was hours.

When Steve was finally done, he smiled down at his image, and then looked up at you, finally making eye contact.

"So can I get dressed now?" You asked

Steve chuckled a little, "Yes, you can get dressed now,"

You climbed off his bed, and grabbed your clothes from where you had placed them.

"Can I see it?" you asked.

Steve stood from his seat, and walked toward you holding his drawing.

He handed the book to you, and you stared down at yourself.

You had never seen anything so well drawn. You could see every shape and curve of your body. Every line, every stroke was of you. Your hair strewn over your shoulder, and the tattoo on your ribs, it was all there. The softness of your face, and the few freckles on your nose that everyone claimed not to see, Steve drew them.

"Steve… this is amazing,"

"Thanks, Y/N," Steve said, smiling down at you.

"No, Steve, I mean it. I don't think I've ever seen anything so amazing with my two eyes,"

Steve blushed again, "Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot."

The second time Steve drew you, it was in his room again. He got you to lie down on your stomach on his bed. You used your arm to prop yourself up, so you were almost on an angle. You were completely naked again. Steve's white sheets covered your legs, coming all the way up to the bottom of your butt. Your long hair was strewn on the pillow behind you.

You couldn't see Steve. But you wished you could. You liked the focused look on his face the last time he looked at you, and the small blush that came across his cheeks every time he looked at your breasts.

When he was finished, he came over to show you. He sat down beside you on the bed, as you sat up and took the drawing in your hand. He had done it again. It was beautiful. You saw every wrinkle in the sheets, the small curve in your spine, you could almost see the texture of your skin.

"Steve, this is beautiful. You're really talented," you smiled at him, handing him back his drawing.

He felt proud of his work, "Thanks, Y/N,"

You sat beside Steve for a moment, leaning on his arm, the two of you admiring his work.

The third time Steve drew you, he avoided the bed. He got you to stand in front of him. Once again, completely naked. It was less awkward this time. You were almost used to walking into his room and stripping.

He got you to stand rather close to him. He positioned you to look down, your hair falling in front of your face. He placed your hand across your chest, resting just above your breasts. Your other hand placed gently on your face.

You were afraid that it would be hard standing this way for too long. Steve assured you that you'd be fine and you could take a break if you needed.

You watched Steve draw. He was so focused. It was odd watching him stare directly at your bare breasts. But it didn't feel wrong. You smirked, seeing Steve blush while drawing your nipples. Maybe it was weird for him, you thought. While you always had thought you would get naked for Steve one day, this wasn't exactly what you had expected.

When he was finished drawing, you raised your hands high above your body, stretching. You were sore from standing in the same position for so long. But this time, when Steve was done drawing, he didn't look away.

You sat down on the edge of Steve's bed, still completely naked. You saw Steve shift in his seat, uncomfortably. He leaned over and handed you the drawing.

You smiled, looking at it. It was just as beautiful as the last two.

"I have to say, Steve. I never really think of myself as looking beautiful, especially not while I'm naked. But when I look at these drawings, I don't know how you do it, but it makes me look beautiful," you said.

Steve looked at you, "What do you mean y/n? You're always beautiful,"

You blushed, "Thanks, Steve."

The fourth time Steve drew you, he got you back on his bed. You lied on your side, using one arm to prop yourself up on your pillows. Once again you rested your hands on your chest, just above your breasts. One of your legs was crossed under the other, and one out straight.

Just like the other times, Steve moved you into position. Lightly touching you, always making sure not to touch your boobs or butt.

This drawing took particularly long. You had to take breaks through this piece, it was hard to keep yourself propped up on one arm for so long. During your breaks, the two of you would chat like it was nothing that one of you was naked.

When Steve would go back to drawing, you couldn't help yourself. Your eyes always trailed down to his pants. Everytime he drew you, you couldn't help but wonder if it turned him on just as much as it did you.

It was sometimes hard to tell though. Often enough his sketchpad was resting on his lap. And, Steve's pants were always kind of tight, you assumed it was due to his large package, and it was always hard to tell if he was hard. But, with every chance you got while he was drawing, you looked anyway. And from what you could see, he was hard the whole time. Just like how by the end of the drawing sessions, you were wet and knew for a fact that if your panties were still on, they'd be soaked through.

"Steve this is amazing,"

"Thanks. I really appreciate your help, Y/N. My professor has really loved my last few pieces. I'm on track to get an A in the class,"

"Steve! That's awesome!" you smiled

"It helps having a such a beautiful muse,"

You somehow always left each other blushing.

The fifth time Steve drew you, Steve had you stand in front of him again. This time, your back to him. Your head tilted slightly to the side, looking over your shoulder.

You were sad you couldn't stare at him. Especially since this was the last drawing he needed for his class. You watched him draw you out of the corner of your eye. You didn't want this session to end. Knowing that you were not going get to be this intimate with Steve again.

You felt as if this was the longest session yet. Steve took his time drawing you, making sure to catch every detail of your body.

When he finished, Steve came up behind you to show you the complete sketch. He stood towering behind you as you held the drawing in your hands.

You admired each stroke of his pencil. Seeing yourself in these images gave you a new perspective. Each drawing was how Steve saw you. Beautiful.

"You're so talented,"

You knew Steve was smiling behind you. He was an amazing artist, but didn't show off his work often and enjoyed getting the compliments.

"Means a lot, Y/N,"

You turned to face Steve, handing him his book.

"I have to say, I'm kinda sad I won't get to see anymore drawings of me like that. I loved everything you drew the past few weeks. It really did make me feel beautiful,"

"Like I said before, Y/N, you're always beautiful,"

"Thanks Steve, that means a lot coming from you,"

You leaned down to grab your clothes that you had left on the floor. You slipped your panties back on and sat on the edge of Steve's bed, turning your shirt back right side in.

"What do you mean it means a lot coming from me?" Steve asked.

"I just mean, you're important to me. And your opinion is important to me. I'd rather you think i'm beautiful than some random guy on the street,"

"Well why else would you think I ask you to do this for me? You're the most beautiful person I know. It'd be hard for me to ask anyone else, knowing there was someone more beautiful that I could draw,"

You smiled. You could feel your cheeks heating up.

"I thought you picked me because I was the only one who wouldn't hurt you for even asking," you joked

'Well, that too," Steve smiled back at you.

You were silent for a moment. You slipped your shirt over your head. And moved to put your jeans back on.

Steve moved to stand in front of you, and grabbed your hand. Letting you gently drop your pants.

"I did mean it though, Y/N. When I said you're the most beautiful person I've ever known,"

You looked up at Steve. He had a soft look on his face. You could see the yearning on his face. You stood up, not looking away from Steve.

The look he had on his face in this moment, was how you always looked at him. You yearded for him since you met him. Your heart ached every day you weren't with him.

You stood on your tip toes and placed one of your hands on Steve's cheek and pulled his face closer to yours. You closed the gap between the two of you, and gently pressed your lips against his. Steve hesitated for a second before placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him.

He held you so tight, as if he never wanted to let you go. You pressed your lips tighter against one another. You were so happy in this moment you wanted to cry. You imagined every day Steve wanting you, and loving you. You imagined your first kiss so many times, and this was perfect.

Steve held you against him, and pulled his lips off of yours. He rested his forehead against yours. Both of you were smiling.

"I can't even tell you how long i've wanted to do that," you said softly,

"I'm so happy you did," he smiled.

You placed your feet flat on the ground again, just looking up at Steve.

"I was dying the past few weeks. I can't tell you how hard it was with you in front of me, naked, and I couldn't even touch you. I really didn't know you felt this way about me too,"

"You can touch me now," you said, moving Steve's hands from your waist to your ass.

Steve laughed.

He leaned back down to kiss you softly, his hands only trailing away from your ass to lift up your shirt. He pulled away from the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

Two could play at this game, you thought. You began lifting Steve's shirt, letting him pull it the rest of the way off. Your hands trailed down to his belt, undoing it from his pants. Steve just watched you as you unzipped his jeans, and pulled both his pants and underwear down his thighs. Steve kicked them off. He stood in front of you completely naked.

"Sit down," you said.

Steve obeyed, and sat down on his bed. You slipped off your panties. You moved to straddle Steve, your wet pussy rubbing against Steve's hard cock. He wrapped his arms around you, as to not let you fall. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips against his.

You moved your lips against each other's. Deepening the kiss. His tongue entering your mouth. You continued to rock your wet pussy against his dick, teasing him.

You pulled away from the kiss. You looked at Steve as you grabbed his hard cock in your hand. You slowly raised your body, pressing his cock at your entrance. You slowly sat down, his hard dick entering you. He felt huge, despite how wet you were, you were still tight. You weren't sure if you would be able to take him all in.

Suddenly, you felt yourself open up. Both you and Steve moaned as you took the rest of him in. You both sat still for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of Steve being inside of you.

Steve pulled your tighter against him. Your chests were pressed together. He closed the gap between your lips once more, moaning into your mouth as you began rocking back and forth on his cock. The feeling of Steve filling you up, already made you want to orgasm.

His hands were pressed tight against your back, holding you close to him. His mouth moved against yours. Your tongues brushing against each other. You continued to rock back and forth on his dick. Nearly every movement caused him to moan into your kiss.

You kept one arm wrapped around his neck for support, but moved the other down to your clit. As soon as you touched yourself, a shock went through you. You rubbed small circles around your clit, as Steve thrust into you, while you continued to rock on his cock.

You moaned into your kisses. You bit Steve's lip as he moaned your name.

Your breathings became heavy, as you both neared orgasm. You felt like you were sitting on Steve's lap, rocking on his dick forever. The moment felt like it would never end.

You felt like you had never been so intimate with someone during sex before. Never been so vulnerable.

You could feel your orgasm building as Steve began making harder thrusts inside of you, and you started making faster circles around your clit. Your mouth never left Steve's, continuing to kiss as you came.

You moaned loud into his mouth as you felt your wall come crashing down, contracting around Steve's dick. Second later, you could feel Steve's dick twitching inside of you.

When you both same down from your orgasms, you silently rested your foreheads against one anothers. All you could hear was your heavy breathing and your hearts beating quickly.

Steve let himself fall backward, bringing you with him. The both of you laughed as you slipped off of dick and fell beside him.

You rested your head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. Steve ran his hand along your back and kissed your forehead.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

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