#I'll like to make tony as a nickname for now

[solchle]

[fawniswriting]

Before I Could Say It

This fic can be read as a standalone or as a prequel to After I Was Too Late.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Synopsis: The three times Bucky almost confessed his love to you, and the one time he finally does.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning(s): can be read as gn!reader bcs I didn't use any gender-specific words (pls advise me if this isn't true). canon divergence. no use of Y/N. use of the nicknames sugar and sweetheart. insecure thoughts. bucky feeling like he's not good enough. unrequited love (or is it?). alcohol consumption. a bit hurt/comfort. profanities. use of weaponry, including but not limited to guns and knives. depictions of violence, blood, injuries, and murder. (near) death experience. angst. fluff. open ending.

Author's Note: Hii guys. I know I should be focusing all of my energy on Faithfully Yours right now, but I had the idea for this story and just couldn't pass it up!! We have a bit of an open ending here. I wasn't planning on making a part two but I'll see what the general consensus say and will decide whether or not a part two is due from the responses. anywayy hope you enjoy this one xx don't forget to comment, like, and reblog!!

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

When Bucky tried to think about the beginning, his mind always drew a blank.

It had been five years since the first time destiny orchestrated your paths to cross, six if one were to count the one-year cryogenic sleep that Bucky spent in Wakanda. The Soldat met you first, back when you, Steve, Sam, and Nat fought him on that highway shoot-out that revealed his identity. After that, you were everywhere—in Bucharest with Steve to coax him out of hiding, on the tarmac battle where you went against half of your own family for his sake, and even in Wakanda, where your eyes became one of the last pairs he saw before his body succumbed to the unforgiving clutches of darkness.

And when he was finally woken up, you were there, too, waiting for him.

Since then, Bucky struggled to remember a time when you weren't there. You supervised his deprogramming in Wakanda, becoming Steve's eyes and ears while the Captain roamed the world as both a fugitive and a vigilante. When the Sokovia Accords turned void, and the scientists in Wakanda assured Bucky that his mind wasn't going to betray his heart anymore, you took him back to New York, offering solace in the form of your warmth pressing against his side on the plane ride to the States. 

Even once the two of you landed on the compound's grounds, you never strayed too far—standing between Bucky and a begrudging Tony as if you were ready to launch yourself forward should the billionaire try to do anything untoward. As if the ruthless Winter Soldier needed a human shield to prevent him from shattering into fragile little pieces.

Before Bucky knew it, his entire routine—his entire life—became you.

From your morning spar sessions in the gym, the long walks around Brooklyn in the afternoon, to the weekly movie nights that you roped him into in the name of reacquainting him with pop culture—everything in Bucky’s life started to shape and smell like you. 

It was a constant. 

You were Bucky’s new constant.

And somewhere along the way, Bucky’s little troublemaker of a heart decided, once and for all, to anchor itself to yours.

True to his fashion, Steve was the first person to notice. All of the lingering touches and longing glances, the hard-etched lines of Bucky’s countenance that seemed to soften every time you were near—they spoke of an affection beyond a mere loyalty one might harbor for their teammate. It spoke of love, one that was so unadulteratedly pure and raw that Steve was sure there was no room left in the crevices of Bucky’s heart where a piece of you didn’t reside in.

“You’ve gotta say something, Buck,” Steve said to Bucky one evening.

The two of them were standing in the convention hall of a lavish hotel deep in the heart of Manhattan, surrounded by a guestlist of people that Bucky was assured were some of the most influential figures of the twenty-first century. People tried to swarm him since the moment he entered the party, shoving business cards to his face and dropping names that Bucky knew should have meant something to him. He paid none of them any mind—not when his eyes immediately found you in that sea of ties and ball gowns, just like a moth enticed to a flame.

You were all dolled up for the night, wearing a fancy little number that screams you if only with a little bit of additional sparkles sprinkled on top. Bucky watched you move through the ocean of people, confidence oozing out of every step, a blinding smile as you received each handshake with an indisputable poise. Bucky’s head whipped towards your direction at every echo of laughter, searching for the source, drinking in your infectious glee as if it were the only way to sustain the rhythmic beating of his heart.

Bucky shifted in his feet, Steve’s unprompted advice forcing him to tear his eyes away from where you were standing by Natasha’s side. The blond beside him smiled knowingly, a teasing yet sincere tilt in his voice as he added, “You’ve gotta tell at some point, pal. Better sooner rather than later.”

The line in Bucky’s jaw ticked. He brought the glass of champagne to his lips, tipping the drink back as though the liquid stood a chance against his enhanced metabolism. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Buck.”

“Punk.”

The Captain sighed, reaching for a drink of his own. “At least ask for a dance, will you?”

Before Bucky could register what was happening, Steve had shoved Bucky forward, sending him stumbling forth towards the direction of your canorous laughter. Steve hid his amused smile behind his drink when Bucky flipped him the finger, the latter continuing his steps on wobbly feet, trying to ignore the pounding travelling up his bloodstreams.

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted as soon as he had reached you. The smile on your face could rival the sun even on its brightest day, and Bucky prayed to every divine being in the universe that he could be on the receiving end of that smile for the rest of his days.

“Barnes.” Natasha nodded. 

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” Bucky attempted a smile, tugging at the ridiculous material of his bow tie that Tony had insisted him to wear. In fact, Tony was the one who forced Bucky to attend this whole shindig in the first place—something about showing a united front to prove to the public that there was no bad blood within the Avengers’ team. 

It was a shit ton of bullshit, in Bucky’s opinion.

But at least, the party gave him a chance to see you all dressed up to the nines.

“Nothing much.” You shrugged, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Did you need something?”

“No. I mean, I do. I was, um, wondering—” Bucky cleared his throat, “—I actually wanted to see if you’d care to join me for a dance?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Natasha’s eyes widen slightly. The redhead immediately scurried to the side, feigning interest in the tower of chocolate fondue just a couple of feet away.

Bucky’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest when you extended your palm towards him. “I would love to, Buck. Lead the way.”

Your fingers emitted warmth inside his hand, and for a moment, Bucky faltered. He kept his composure enough to guide you through the sea of couples on the dancefloor, willing the erratic thumping in his chest to quieten down as he pulled you flush against his body. The scent of your perfume slithered through the air, filling Bucky’s lungs, attacking each part of his senses until everything Bucky saw, heard, smelled, and felt was you.

“You look beautiful tonight, Sugar.”

The admission tumbled from his lips before Bucky had a chance to stop them, before he could thoroughly process the implications of such candor. You didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, your persistent smile widened ever so slightly, your eyes twinkling under the glimmering lights of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Why, you look plenty dashing yourself, Bucky.” You hummed appreciatively, raking your eyes up and down Bucky’s suit-clad figure. “I must say, I was sad to see your long hair gone, but this looks great as well.”

Your fingers skimmed the hard contour of Bucky’s shoulder, leaving goosebumps on their wake, before sneaking through the short tendrils on the nape of his neck. He fought off a groan at the contact, the heavenly feeling of your fingers tugging at his hair sending shivers all throughout his body. Meanwhile, you were still smiling up at him all sweetly, completely oblivious to the rush of heat that you delivered through Bucky’s entire being.

“Sugar,” the nickname fell off Bucky’s lips in a low grunt, and for the first time that night, your composure staggered. 

Your breath hitched around a squeak when Bucky managed to tug you closer, circling his arms around your waist until there was barely room for air between both of your bodies. All around you, the world ceased to exist. The only thing that remained were your bated breaths, a raucous disruption through the electric field buzzing between where you and Bucky were pressed against one another. 

“I need to tell you something,” Bucky revealed, his voice low and sheer, stripped by unease and something akin to fear. 

Your forehead furrowed, undoubtedly sensing the trepidation shining out of the blue of Bucky’s eyes. “What’s the matter, Buck?”

Your palm landed on his stubbled cheek, and Bucky had to fight the urge to lean in, to chase more of your warmth like you were an oasis in the middle of his desert of a life. He grappled for the confession to come, for the feelings in his chest to solidify into something comprehensible. All Bucky had to do was open his mouth and seize the moment.

But just as quickly as it had arrived, the moment splintered through his fingertips.

“Good evening, everyone!”

Bucky's whole body jerked in surprise, his accusatory eyes instantly finding the MC standing on the stage at the front of the room. The music had stopped, replaced by the MC's welcoming remarks addressed towards a dozen supposedly prominent names that Bucky couldn't care less about.

“Hey, let's go find a seat,” you suggested, circling your tender fingers around Bucky's wrist before leading him through the maze of tables.

The two of you sat down just in time for Tony to deliver his opening speech as a representative of the Avengers. You glanced at Bucky in the middle of Tony's heartfelt sentiment about “shaping the future”, your hand finding Bucky's flesh one on his thigh, unaware of the kind of turmoil you have summoned from a single touch.

“You okay, Bucky?” you asked, squeezing his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

I wanted to tell you that I love you, Bucky's heart echoed. I don't know when it started, and I don't know how, all I know is that you're every good thing that I have going on in my life.

Bucky's throat tightened.

He never ended up saying the words out loud. Instead, he smiled thinly. “It's not important, sweetheart. I'll tell you later.”

You assessed him curiously before offering him a small smile and directing your attention back towards the stage. Bucky sighed in the aftermath, feeling the wild beating of his heart settled to a normal one.

And just like that, the truth died on the tip of his tongue.

Weeks passed, and between countless briefings, missions, and reports, Bucky was forced to push all matters concerning his heart to the side. It wasn't easy, not when you occupied every facet of Bucky's otherwise monotone life. Every waking moment was a painful reminder that you were always within reach, but never close enough for him to have.

Following a successful infiltration into an illegal bio-weapon factory in the outskirts of Poland, the team had landed their jet on one of the safehouse grounds somewhere near the border of Poland and Germany. Natasha and Clint disappeared inside the house immediately upon landing, while Sam and Steve stayed on the quinjet to go over a few intels they had managed to gather from the factory.

Bucky's boots scraped softly against the grass as he crossed the distance towards the small lake just a few yards left to the safehouse. The surrounding trees rustled in the wind, a symphony of reds and oranges beneath the solemn autumn sky. On the shore of the lake, Bucky found you sitting, a rare serene look on your face as you closed your eyes to welcome the impending breeze.

“Hi, Bucky,” you greeted, eyes still shut tightly.

“How'd you know it was me, Sugar?”

“I always know when it's you.”

The moment your eyes opened, Bucky's heart stuttered in its cage. The smile you rewarded him was soft, embellished with a tenderness that a man of his repute would never deserve. He knew he should have looked away, but the selfish part of him wanted to hold your stare in place, to relish in your kindness no matter how much he believed he wasn't worthy of it.

“Come on, sit with me.”

You patted the ground next to you, and Bucky obeyed without further questions. He lowered himself on the grass, damp from the lingering chill of autumn air, and stretched his legs out. For a while, neither of you spoke, opting to enjoy the sound of water lapping lazily against the shore, a stark tranquility to the horrors you faced during the mission earlier.

The sky dimmed a tad darker as the sun ducked behind the cover of trees, leaving behind streaks of purple and gold on the horizon. Beside him, you heaved out a sigh, the remnants of sun casting your skin in an ethereal glow.

“Sometimes I wish moments like this could last forever,” you murmured.

Bucky's eyes slid towards you, studying the contours of your face like a historian would an ancient scripture. His fingers twitched, itching to feel every soft and hard edge of your features under the brush of his touch. 

You're the only thing in this world I want forever with.

The words resonated in his head and all the way down to his chest, settling like stone sinking underwater, slow and heavy. He almost said it out loud—nearly laid his heart bare for you to judge and scrutinize. But at last, he fabricated a grin and nudged his shoulder playfully to yours.

“You always get sentimental when you're tired,” he joked.

You laughed heartily at his jab, a melodic thing that wrested at every coil of Bucky's heartstrings. The two of you proceeded to watch the sunset together, the silence stretching between you, warm and comfortable. The sky burned in more explosions of hues, casting its reflection upon the lake like a dream neither of you dared to disturb. 

If Bucky were a braver man, a better man—one that wasn't weighed down by his history and remorse—maybe he would have told you. Maybe, in another life, Bucky would have charmed you at first sight, claiming you as his before the day could even end. But for now, Bucky was glad to settle for this—for sharing a quiet moment with you, and to bask in your company as though he were worthy of even a fraction of your attention.

For now, Bucky would let the four-letter word wither inside him, locked in a hidden fissure somewhere within his chest, keeping it safe from ever seeing any light of day.

Days flew by, and it was getting increasingly harder for Bucky to ignore the way his heart gravitated towards yours, to ignore the fact that you were always the first person he searched for in the morning and the last one he wanted to talk to before falling asleep. To pretend like the mere mention of your name didn't send a jolt that revived his entire being. Every single day was a battle between wish and logic—the unruly desire to make you his, and the rational reluctance of dragging you into the mess that was his life.

“This is getting ridiculous, Buck,” Steve said as he leaned back against the bar right next to Bucky, following the latter's eyesight to find you standing at the end of it. “You're just gonna avoid it forever? An eternal silent treatment? The two of you need to talk, whether you like it or not.”

Bucky inhaled a long breath, swirling the Asgardian mead in his glass without ever taking his eyes off you. It was your birthday—a joyous occasion that called for this merry yet intimate celebration with the entire team. The common room of the compound had been transformed into something warm and inviting, lit by the soft glow of string lights draped along the walls. A cake sat on the counter, half-eaten, its candles long blown out, but the remnants of your laughter from when you made your wish still lingered in the air.

From across the room, Bucky watched as Sam teased you about getting older, earning the bird-man a playful swat on his arm. Wanda handed you a small, neatly wrapped gift, and your eyes lit up in a way that made Bucky’s chest ache. He didn’t know what was in the box. He didn’t really care. All he knew was that he wanted to be the reason behind that breathtaking smile of yours.

And then, your eyes lifted.

The eye contact was fleeting. Brief. Gone by the time Bucky realized what was happening and forced his gaze away. Even then, Bucky still caught the hint of surprise as your eyes found his, replaced almost immediately by a longing that Bucky understood all too well. It clutched onto his heart, sinking its sharp nails until the life organ in his chest was bruised and brutally torn apart.

The Captain sighed. “You're being an idiot, pal.”

Bucky knew Steve was right—he was being an idiot. A coward, even. It was his own damn foolishness that had kept him avoiding you for weeks, skipping your morning spars, slipping out of any room you occupied before you could even notice his presence. All because he couldn’t handle the feelings that had taken root in his chest, the one that was growing stronger by the minute, infiltrating deeper into his system every time you so much as looked his way.

The party was still in full swing by the time Bucky decided to retire for the night, forgoing the goodbyes, heading straight to the elevator that took him back to his quarters. It was a few hours later when a clumsy knock sounded against his door, breaking through the quiet that had settled in his room.

“Sugar?”

Bucky's hand clenched around the door handle, his eyebrows knitting together at the sight of you in front of his bedroom.

“Hi, Buckyyy,” you greeted, your words slurring into uncontrollable giggles.

 Understanding dawned on Bucky's shoulders. “Sweetheart, are you drunk?”

“Am not!” You huffed, pushing past a stunned Bucky to enter the bedroom. 

You looked around for a moment, humming to yourself every time you came across a familiar token that decorated Bucky's room. There was a photo of you and him on the nightsand, a sketch of the Brooklyn Bridge courtesy of Steve hanging on the wall, and a few vinyl records stacked neatly on the shelf, gifted by various members of the team. At last, your steps halted beside the bed, and without a warning, you dove head first into the mattress, chuckling to yourself as you attempted to make snow angels with his blankets.

“This is sooo niceee,” you mused, burying youself deeper into one of Bucky's pillows. “Smells like you, Buck.”

The super soldier tried not to dwell too much on the sight of you lying on his bed, looking like you had always belonged in the same place that Bucky took his rest. A shiver ran down Bucky's spine as he closed the door behind him, his feet quiet against the carpeted floor before he took a tentative seat on the edge of the bed.

“Sugar?” Bucky took your shoulders in his grasp, turning you around until his eyes locked with yours. His heart staggered. “You wanna get back to your room? I could take you.”

His offer made you sit up in seconds, so fast that Bucky feared you might have given yourself a whiplash. He stared at you as your lips trembled, your whole body turning away from him until you were just a breadth out of his reach.

His fingers contracted in grief.

“Hey, Sugar? What's—”

“Why do you hate me?”

Silence.

Bucky's forehead creased in confusion.

“Hate you?” Bucky tasted the accusation on his tongue—the word being so foreign and farfetched from anything he could associate with you that Bucky had to wonder if he had misheard what you spoke. “Sweetheart, I don't hate you.”

“Liar.” You scoffed, scooting towards the foot of the bed, seemingly adamant to draw as much distance as possible between Bucky and yourself. “You have been avoiding me for weeks. You don't want to talk to me, or do anything with me. You hate me.”

Bucky blinked, stunned into momentary silence before shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the sheer absurdity of your words. “That’s not true,” he murmured, his voice rough with something that sounded dangerously close to regret.

You laughed at his response—a wry, sarcastic laugh that was void of even the smallest hint of your usual warmth. “Then what other possible reason could you have for avoiding me, Bucky? Hm?” Your head turned towards him, and for the first time that night, Bucky finally saw the telltale sign of tears in your eyes, a glassy sheen that erased any remnant of the wits that Bucky had grown to know and love.

His stomach churned.

Guilt was eating at him alive. He couldn't believe that his stupidity had caused this—that he had hurt you due to his own incapability of controlling his emotions. Bucky didn't know what he was thinking when he decided that the best course of action would be to completely evade you, but he certainly didn't think that it would result in this.

With you, sitting on his bed, crying your eyes out while simultaneously breaking Bucky's heart in the process.

Bucky exhaled sharply, as if the weight of his own remorse was pressing down on his chest. He couldn't stand it—the way your shoulders quivered, the way you tried so desperately to keep your composure together as tears welled in your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he rasped, reaching for you, his fingers hesitant at first before firming in resolve. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

You stiffened at his touch, your lips parting as if to protest, but Bucky was already pulling you into his embrace, holding you tightly against the muscular panes of his chest. His hands skimmed soothingly along your back, whispers of sweet nothings falling from his lips as he rocked you in the safety of his arms.

“I don't hate you, Sugar,” he murmured, voice shattering around the edges. “I've never hated you. How could I?”

How could I hate you when you are the only source of light I have remaining in this world? How could I hate you when loving you is the only thing about my life that I am absolutely certain of?

Your breath hitched against his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Bucky—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pressing his lips to your temple in a featherlight touch. “Just let me hold you, okay?”

Slowly, he guided the both of you down onto his bed, his arms never loosening from where they were wrapped around your body. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, his fingers drawing lazy patterns against your back. The tension in your body melted bit by bit with each gentle word, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into something softer—something safe.

“Don't ever do that to me again,” you warned shakily. “Promise me.”

Bucky's hold around you tightened. “I promise.”

“Good.” You sighed, exhaustion wearing down every inch of your bones. “You're my favorite person, Bucky.”

The admission pierced Bucky's chest like a lightning strike. He knew he should not have read too much into it, that the revelation was nothing more than a drunken slip of tongue that you probably would not even remember in the morning. But for now, Bucky chose to let that little detail slide, to let himself pretend that the confession had been made with more purposeful intent behind it—that the words had meant as much to you as it did to Bucky.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I've got you."

Since that night in his bedroom, Bucky had made a vow: he wasn't going to run anymore.

Bucky had learned his lesson. He wasn't going to let his own fears dictate his actions, nor would he allow his emotions ruin the precious friendship he had built with you over the past few years. Whatever he felt—whatever torment clawed at his chest whenever you so much as looked his way—it was his burden to bear. You didn't deserve to suffer for his cowardice, and he swore to himself that he would never let it happen again.

That thought lingered in Bucky's mind as he moved stealthily through the abandoned industrial site, gun drawn, boots scraping silently against the cracked concrete floor. The mission was straightforward: take out remaining hostiles, extract any valuable intel, and regroup. Simple. A basic in and out job that would be done just in time for dinner.

The team had split into pairs, and as fate would have it—or rather, as Steve would have it—Bucky found himself assigned to the west wing of the site alongside you. The direct channel to your comms in Bucky’s earpiece was quiet, and the super soldier took it as a good indication that your side of the mission was going smoothly. Meanwhile, he swept through his own side of hallways with methodical precision, checking every room, muttering a curt “clear” to his comms for each canvassed area. 

The air was eerie with cold and mold when Bucky entered the last remaining room in the hallway. There was nothing particularly different about this one. It was just as empty and as menacing, smelling of rat’s piss and years of abandonment, though his seasoned instinct—one sculpted from years of fighting and survival—warned him that something was amiss. His fingers tightened around his weapon almost instinctively, feeling an immediate unease venture up his spine, raising the very hair on the back of his neck.

The silence was too perfect.

Bucky’s feet skidded to a stop, turning on his heel to retrace his steps back towards the entrance.

Then, it happened.

The ambush struck like lightning on water. One second Bucky was alone, and the next, shadows had flooded the room, faceless figures in tactical gears leaping towards him at the same time. They were fast and ruthless, and even though none seemed to possess enhanced abilities, Bucky was still outnumbered. He dodged the first three attackers easily enough—disarming the blade from the first assailant’s hand, ducking out of the swinging baton of the second’s, and rolling on the floor before redirecting the third one’s bullet with the palm of his vibranium arm.

Bucky dashed out of the room into the one right across, the group of attackers still hot on his tail. He ducked behind a metal table and started opening fires at the entrance, taking out the threats before they even got the chance to enter the room. A curse fell under his breath when Bucky realized that he had worked through his rounds, scrambling to replace the ammunition as footsteps thundered into the room.

Slamming the fresh magazine in place, Bucky inhaled a gearing breath, only to be met with a sudden hush that descended through the air.

He raised his gun.

Instead of finding himself at the end of numerous gun barrels, Bucky was granted the view of bodies scattered all over the floor. The tang of iron meshed detestably with the spoor of grime, fog swirling around the edge of Bucky’s adrenaline-honed mind. When the dust finally stifled, his focus immediately zeroed in on the figure standing amidst the wreckage, rising out of the smoke like a doomsday’s salvation.

“Hi, handsome.” You smiled around a heavy exhale, a crinkle in your eye that seized the very life out of Bucky’s lungs. “Miss me?”

Bucky let out a rough breath, somewhere between relief and admiration. The grip around his weapon slackened ever so slightly, his body still thrumming with fight-and-flight, though the sight of your beautiful smile had managed to wash him with the kind of serenity that no other person could compel.

“Was wondering when you’d show up, sweetheart,” Bucky said, rising from his makeshift fortress behind the table.

“Sorry, Sarge.” You hummed, casually brushing the dust off Bucky’s shoulder as though the contact didn’t send him skyrocketing to heaven. “You know I like to keep people on their toes.”

Bucky failed to suppress his grin, nudging your shoulder as the two of you headed towards the entrance. With the hostiles neutralized, and the information uploaded to the flash drive discreetly tucked in the safety of Bucky’s inside pocket, the two of you were prepared for extraction. He redirected his comms to the main channel, alerting the other team members that the two of you were ready to wrap up and get the hell out of this dismal place.

He was barely a foot out of the door when a loud bang resonated in the air.

In a split second, Bucky sprung in retaliation, taking aim at one of the bloody assailants on the ground that had somehow taken hold of a gun, Bucky’s finger pulling at his own weapon’s trigger, assassinating him in place.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bucky’s heart throbbed in his throat, a silent prayer on his lips at how close of a call it had almost been. His gaze took a quick scan of the pile of bodies on the floor, making sure that none of them would pull a similar stunt, only allowing his shoulders to deflate when he saw no remaining signs of life.

“Bucky?”

Your voice barely reached him, thin despite the echoic air of this dingy site, but something inside Bucky twisted the moment he heard it.

When he turned, the initial relief that had flooded his chest instantly collapsed.

You were standing there, just a breadth out of reach with your gun still tightly clutched between your fingers. But the side of your neck—God, the side of your neck—was slick with red, thick and dark as it ran in angry runnels down your skin, staining the collar of your tactical gear, pooling on your shoulder and drenching everything it touched.

Your whole body swayed.

Bucky’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“No, no, no—” he rasped as he caught you, arms winding around your frame to prevent you from hitting the floor. His knees slammed onto the cold concrete below as he cradled you against his chest, the tremble in his body betraying the steel he was supposed to be made out of.

Bucky blinked, willing this moment to splinter into a dream, willing for his body to be transported back into the comfort of his bedroom where the scene playing out in front of his eyes would be nothing more than a heinous nightmare. But as Bucky’s arms tightened around your limp figure, the awful, gut-wrenching truth settled like ice in his veins. 

This was real. 

The blood seeping through your gear wasn’t imagined. The faint hitch in your breath, the loss of color from your face, the sheer terror clawing its way up his throat—none of it was a dream.

His chest crashed.

“Hey, hey. I got you, Sugar.” His voice cracked as he pressed a palm against your wound, despairingly staunching the warmth from slipping through his fingers. But no matter how hard he was grasping, the blood just kept on flowing—too fast and too much—soaking his hands and every corner of his battered soul.

“Shit. Stay with me, sweetheart. Please,” he begged. “Steve! Nat! Somebody get here now!” he barked into his earpiece, nails digging deeper into your skin. “We need a medic! We need a—fuck—just get down here!”

You made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, your breath warm against his cheek as you murmured, “I-It’s gonna… gonna be o-okay.”

It was a lie.

You both knew it.

And it destroyed him. 

“Don’t do that.” Bucky shook his head, his voice cracking around a choked sob. He forced a smile as he looked down at your pale face. “You always suck at lying.”

Your lips parted, the faintest ghost of a smile trying to make its way through, only to be interrupted by a wet cough that made Bucky’s chest cave in.

“Gotta stay with me, sweetheart. Please,” Bucky whimpered. “The team’s coming. Help is on the way. Just gotta hang in there a little more for me, yeah? Just a little longer. Please.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure to whom he was begging—whether it was you, the universe, or any higher divine power that might have heard his wretched prayer and taken pity on him. A man who had lost everything and asked for nothing, who was now asking for someone—anyone—to save the only thing in this world that made his life worth living, even if it meant having to sacrifice his soul in exchange.

Your hand reached out tentatively, shakily, gripping the strap of his tactical jacket and giving it the faintest tug. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, voice dissipating like a wisp of smoke as soon as you had uttered his name. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, searched for his, and when they finally found him, a weak smile curved at your lips. “I love you.”

A sound tore from his throat, raw and full of despair. His forehead dropped against yours, his entire body rupturing under the weight of your words.

“I love you.” Bucky’s voice stammered. “God, I love you—I love you, sweetheart, I love you so much.” He pressed his lips against your clammy forehead, again and again, as though he could tether you here, as though his love alone could be enough to keep you from slipping away.

He should have been happy—should have felt something else other than this hollow, scorching agony. The person of his dreams, the one he had spent sleepless nights longing for, had just made the one admission that his heart had been wanting to hear, and yet, all he could do was break. His whole being perished under the weight of everything left unsaid, every moment wasted, every regret carving him open from the inside out.

He should have told you sooner.

God, he should have just told you—should have braced past his insecurities and found the courage somehow, should have showered you with every drop of love he had neatly stowed in his heart until he was shriveled and had no else to give. He should have bought you flowers everyday, let you know that you were the most beautiful person Bucky had ever met on this goddamn planet—because you deserved it.

You deserved everything.

Not this.

Not bleeding on the filthy floor of this desolate place, fighting off death that had bludgeoned its way right through your door.

“You’re gonna be okay, Sugar. We’re getting out of here, you hear me?” His breath stuttered, his grip tightening as if he could physically gather all of your fragmented pieces and mend you as new. “I’m gonna treat you so good. You’ll see. Gonna spoil you rotten like I ought to. Just—please, just hold on—”

Your fingers twitched against his chest. Your eyes fluttered.

A quivering breath left your lips before your body went completely limp.

Bucky stilled.

“Sugar?”

Nothing.

No soft inhale. No faint murmurs of response.

No squeeze of your fingers against his jacket.

Bucky’s entire world came crashing down in the blink of an eye.

“No. No, no, no, no—”

His hand cupped your face, blood smearing from his skin to yours. Bucky’s fingers trembled as he tapped your cheek, as if the action alone could keep you here, could bring you back to him. His breathing ceased, his whole body shuddering as he rocked you in his arms, your name tumbling over and over again from his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like a plea to the universe to undo everything, to give him one more chance, to take him instead.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, his face wet with the fractured shards of his heart. “Please.”

The only thing that acknowledged him was silence.

And Bucky Barnes had never hated the quiet more.

[magicaloneandmystery]

blush

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

summary: the five times Bucky made you blush and the one time you did.

warnings: AU where all Avengers are alive and live together as a family because I say so; lots of fluffy couply things because I'm In A Mood™; this is NOT proofread!!

1.

the two of you were new to this... relationship. not that it was an exclusive one. you were still figuring out whether you wanted to be a superhero's girlfriend and Bucky was still figuring out what modern dating looked like.

today was your third date, an evening to the new observatory, both of you excited to look at some stars together. New York could be suffocating without the glitter in the sky.

you were wearing a blue, full-sleeved top with a sweetheart neckline, paired with dark trousers. when you met Bucky in front of your door, he gave you a once over before a charming smile spread over his lips.

"I'm not sure whether I'll be able to focus on the stars if you look like that, doll."

it was the first time he had called you by a nickname. his words paired with him calling you doll in that low, teasing voice made heat crawl up your neck and face, your bashful smile directed at the ground as a sudden wave of butterflies swarmed your belly.

"th- thank you?" you said, not sure how to respond.

he chuckled warmly, holding out the helmet for you.

"and if you keep reacting so cutely, I'll have to call you doll more often," he remarked, meeting your eyes and winking at you.

damn him and his disarming smile.

2.

after an exciting time at the observatory, both of you were walking down the New York streets together to get some food to eat. his bike was still parked at the observatory, you two deciding to walk to the nearby quaint cafe instead.

walks with Bucky were one of your favourite things. despite his long strides and natural tendency to walk fast, he would consciously slow down to stroll behind you, your hands animatedly talking about a random topic and his staying in his pockets.

when a rowdy friend group suddenly crowded the sidewalk, Bucky's hands immediately found yours, pulling you close to him as you two passed them.

it was the first time he had held your hand, his big, calloused hand almost enveloping yours. somehow, they fit perfectly, like two jigsaw pieces.

it was a weird sensation holding his hand. good weird.

you could feel his steady hold grounding you to the present despite the way your insides were melting at the contact.

when the path cleared, you expected him to let go of your hand.

instead, it loosened slightly but still held on, now a more casual grip than the protective one it mimicked earlier.

you continued to talk about your favourite Latin phrases while he walked on as usual, the other hand in his pocket.

your hands intertwined together felt natural.

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3.

you had heard about the glamourous, over the top Tony Stark Galas. everyone had heard of them. never in a million years would you have thought you'll be invited to one.

so when Bucky asked "would you be my date for the Stark thing?" it took you a few moments to understand what he was saying.

"Stark thing? like, the Tony Stark Charity Gala?" your voice had raised by two octaves, excitement bleeding from your voice.

"yeah, that," Bucky's nonchalance gave way to amusement at your reaction.

you squealed in delight. "will Captain America be there? I mean Steve and Sam both. Black Widow? Thor?"

you started pacing in front of him, his eyes following you.

"I don't know what to wear, but wait- what if I make a fool in front of them?"

"you do realise these are all people I work with."

you turned around with a flurry that had Bucky concerned about whiplash. "wait so... we'll be going together?"

"... yes?"

"no, like. together together?"

"doll, you need to be clearer."

you shook your head, standing directly in front of him, your feet touching his as you looked up to him.

"I'll be your date." you stated, as if that was supposed to clear things up for Bucky.

"yes," he nodded, still giving you a confused smile.

"you'll introduce me as your...?"

"date?" he responded, his eyebrows scrunching in a cute but dumbfounded way.

you groaned. "Bucky this is the first time I'll be meeting your friends!" exasperation laced your tone. "that's... that's a huge step for us, right?" your hands found each other, fiddling with each other.

"do you not want to?" he asked, suddenly nervous. had he pushed you too far? Sam had given him the 'don't take things too fast' talk when he had ventured into dating in the 21st century.

"no, I want to," you clarified quickly. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page. you're ready for this, yeah?"

"of course," he stated, tugging you closer by your hands, his arms wrapping around your frame. "I get to show you off and prove to Romanoff that I can get girls to go out with me."

the sentence brought you back to your earlier predicament. "oh my god Bucky I don't have anything to wear! and my hair! and makeup! this is an Avengers affair! what if I embarrass myself?! what if I embarrass you!"

"doll," he tightened his hold on you, kissing you to shut you up.

your mind came to a stop, your focus shifting on his lips.

"it'll be fine," he promised. "you'll be great. you'll look pretty - there's no way you could look ugly even if you tried - and I'll make sure to punch anyone who dares say anything against you. yeah?"

"okay," you said in a daze, looking up at his eyes, finding comfort in the ocean staring back at you. "but no punching."

"no promises."

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when the big day was here, you were surprised at how good you looked. after all the panic and indecision, the begging your girl gang to help you get ready, the shopping and the borrowing of dress, accessories, and everything else, you were satisfied when you looked in the mirror. you looked pretty.

you hoped Bucky would think the same.

so when you opened your apartment door and saw him standing outside in a dark blue suit, the jacket hugging his biceps, the shirt underneath outlining his chest, and the tie adding a delicious flair, with his thick thighs being on full display with the slacks...

your breath hitched. you felt familiar heat up your neck, a blush forming on your face by just looking at him.

you didn't have energy to focus on your insecurities when you could focus on Bucky and how downright decision he looked.

"you look exquisite, doll," he said, a single white tulip in his hands. you had strictly banned him from getting bouquets for some time, after he filled your apartment with flowers and you were running out of vases. but he couldn't not get you a flower. especially for an occasion such as this. your first public appearance together.

"Bucky, you look..." you breathed out, mind working in overdrive to find a word that would describe the effect he has on you. your mind was also distracted by his slicked hair and clean shaven face, the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at you, the way his muscles bulged when he moved his arms. "simply delicious." you settled.

well, so much for being coherent.

he chuckled. "I could say the same about you."

4.

he held out the flower in front of you, giving you a wide grin as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"you said no bouquets," he winked.

you sighed, shaking your head.

he assessed your hairstyle before you could take the flower, deeming it good enough for his next actions.

he tucked the flower behind your ear.

Bucky Barnes, the feared assassin, tucked a tulip in his date's hair.

like a lovesick fool.

you blushed even more profusely at his actions.

"it goes well with the dress," he concluded, giving you a once over, taking your hand in his. he pulled you closer, his other hand settling on your waist. "did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

"yes," you said, still in awe of the man in front of you. "did I tell you how handsome you look?"

he chuckled, kissing you, careful of your lipstick.

"are you two ever getting out of here? I have a takeout box and Netflix waiting for me at home," your best friend said from behind you.

"right," you pulled away from Bucky, turning around. "thank you for the help," you hugged her goodbye.

5.

the gala was... overwhelming. both in a good and bad way.

the Avengers were everything you hoped for. a delight.

the attention, on the other hand...

but Bucky was always there, a hand on your back or around your waist. if he left, it was to bring you a drink or talk to someone about some superhero-y thing. classified and top secret. but he was never out of your reach for too long.

in the rare moments he was, his team members kept you company.

Steve and Sam were teasing but respectful, trying to get you to tell them embarrassing stories about Bucky. Wanda and Natasha were friendly, letting you be comfortable in their presence and dishing out gossip to you as if you three were a clique. Pepper and Jane occasionally joined the three of you. Thor was... booming. loud. his presence demanded attention, which made sense. he was a god, after all. Loki, on the other hand, was a shadow. he would occasionally prank someone in a small way, but nothing too major or serious. he was a refreshing presence. Tony was the star, the one that got everyone to act like a group. a united front, and all that. he was both charming and disarming, intimidating to an outsider like you at first, but his warmth was noticeable after some time.

the team welcomed you into their group easily. so much so, they even welcomed you at the after party.

when Bucky returned with your drink, he heard the end of your conversation with Tony.

"think about it, we could use a mind like you," Tony was saying, nodding his head at Barnes in acknowledgement.

"are you poaching my girl, Stark?" Bucky asked, pulling you closer.

"just offering her a better pay, right sweetheart?" he said.

you laughed, nodding. "I'll think about your offer."

"you know where to contact me," he raised his glass, swiftly siding away in response. you frowned in confusion.

"I actually don't know that..."

"are you having fun?" Bucky asked.

"yeah, your friends are nice. do you think they like me?" you played with the lapels on his coat.

"you're their new darling," he said, stealing a kiss. "I think they'll be fighting me for your attention."

"Bucky!" you said, slapping his shoulder. "don't kiss me, we're in front of the Avengers." you whispered the last phrase.

"so?" he laughed. "I'm one of them."

"yeah but you're... you. I know you."

"do you, now?" he raised his eyebrows. you could practically feel the teasing remark on his lips.

"I know you well enough to know you're not gonna stop kissing me in front of your friends."

"damn right," he said, leaning down to give you a proper kiss. the one that left you in a breathless daze afterwards. with a slow motion of your lips, the taste from your drinks mingling with each other. faintly, you could hear Sam shouting a teasing remark that only made Bucky pull you closer to his chest.

when you pulled away, your lipstick was smudged on his lips, but he seemed to not mind.

you could barely meet anyone's eyes for the next ten minutes, cheeks and neck flushed at the memory of Bucky's very public display of affection.

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6.

you were sprawled out on Bucky's chest, the movie playing in front of you, but it was well in the background of your perception. your mind was clouded with new information about your relationship with Bucky, unable to focus on anything else, not even the way his fingers made patterns on your back as he held you.

he could sense you were distracted.

"is everything okay?" his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

you wondered whether to share the information with him or not. would it help your relationship? it could make or break your future, effectively changing your life forever.

your thoughts were a jumbled mess.

"I came across some new information about our relationship," you said, finally.

that made Bucky sit up, pausing the movie to give you his full attention.

"I think this could make or break us," you repeated your thoughts out loud.

"okay..." Bucky said slowly, not sure what you were getting at. "what kind of information?"

"feelings," you said simply, looking at him expectantly.

"feelings?"

you nodded.

"you've stopped making sense again," he stated simply.

"the information has to do with feelings," you clarified.

"uh... still not making sense."

"I think I love you," you clarified further.

"you- what?" Bucky spluttered, not expecting that.

"I think about you all day, I dream about our future. you make me feel safe, warm, and excited about life. you've made it really hard to not fall for you, you know that? from your compliments to your gestures to your looks. it's a little frustrating how perfect you are."

for the first time, you saw a blush creep up Bucky's neck, a pink tint to his skin.

it was a beautiful thing - everything about this man was - the way his eyes darted around with a sheepish smile, the way his hand wrung together with nerves in a way you've never seen him. Bucky Barnes didn't blush or lose control.

apparently, he did now.

"do you mean all of that?" he said, his voice a whisper you had to strain to listen.

"yeah. every word. I love you, Bucky," you repeated. "you can take your time to say it back, or whatever, I don't really know. I- I just don't want this to ruin what we-"

your words were cut off with an oof escaping your lips before they were covered by his. this time, his kiss was deeper, his tongue fighting with yours for dominance before you gave way. he languidly explored your mouth, his hands gripping the side of your face, his fingers stroking your cheek.

your hands were on his neck, feeling his heat.

when you both broke away, you smiled at him.

"Bucky, you're blushing," you gushed, kissing his cheeks, adoration swelling in your chest.

"shut up," he grumbled, no real heat behind his words.

"make me?" you said.

he kissed you again. and again and again.

when the two of you were done kissing each other, he rested his forehead against yours. he was looking at you, eyes intense and focused only on you.

"I love you, too," he said finally, letting his walls crumble around you, letting you hold him safely.

tears welled in your eyes, the rush of feelings washing over you.

"I love you, Bucky," you repeated.

you spent the night intertwined with each other.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! thank you so much for reading :D

[literaryavenger]

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it. 

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers? 

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray 

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

Drabble

[sycamorelibrary754]

New Year, New Family

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Platonic Reader, Avengers x Platonic Reader

Summary: It’s been a year since Wanda Maximoff joined the Avengers. You and the team gather at the compound to ring in the New Year until the fireworks trigger past trauma for the young redhead. 

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, flashbacks, and death.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Happy New Year! This story is set after Avengers: Age of Ultron but before Captain America: Civil War. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Peter urged, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

You took a reluctant break from the carefully bandaging his wrist, lifting your gaze to meet his hopeful eyes. “No, Pete. I’m not a New Year’s Eve person, and I certainly can’t picture myself celebrating amidst Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, his persistence unwavering. “You mean your friends?”

“At work, sure, they’re friends,” you clarified, “but at one of Tony’s over-the-top parties, with a guest list longer than the Great Wall of China, they become Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” 

“But this year is different!” Peter countered, showing you the invitation. “There’s no extravagant bash planned! Ms. Potts convinced Tony that those wild parties were a distraction. It will just be the team, I promise. Please, Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, you relented, “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yes!” Peter beamed, his grin contagious. “I’ll let Ms. Potts know you’re coming!” And in an instant, he darted for the door, barely avoiding a collision with your desk as he sprinted out, an unmistakable smile plastered on his face.

*^~^*

"Office hours.” That was the nickname you came up with when the Big Green guy was off on one mission or another, leaving you in charge of his lab. After the chaos with Ultron, Bruce vanished without a trace, slipping entirely off the grid. As a result, office hours have become a permanent feature. You clung to the hope that he would return. Your eyes were glued to a microscope when a familiar voice broke through the moment. “Knock knock.”

You turned to see Wanda framed in the doorway, her fiery red hair glinting in the light and a hand pressed against her left ribcage. “Hey, Wanda, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She stepped inside with a hint of urgency in her voice. “I was wondering if you could look at my side. The last mission was brutal—I took a hard fall, and I think I might have cracked a rib. The Med Bay is packed to the brim, so if you're busy, I totally understand, but…” 

“Wanda,” you interjected, concern creeping into your voice. “Just sit down for a moment.”

“FRIDAY, could you check Ms. Maximoff’s vitals and run a full body scan, please?” you requested, you tended to the visible injuries that marked her skin.

“Certainly, Dr. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY responded promptly. “Vitals are strong, with no signs of internal bleeding detected. However, a hairline fracture of the sixth rib is present.” 

“Looks like you got lucky, Maximoff,” you smirked.

“How do you figure?” Wanda asked, her Sokovian accent slipping through ever so slightly as she winced. 

“You came all the way down here instead of heading to the Med Bay. Luckily, we have that extra Regeneration Cradle that Dr. Banner uses right here. Just thirty minutes in there, and you’ll feel as good as new,” you said, your voice filled with encouragement.

Wanda's eyes lit up with hope. “Are you sure Bruce won’t mind?”

You offered a solemn grin. "I'll handle the fallout when he returns. For now, let’s make sure you’re taken care of."

As Wanda reclined on the cradle bench, you leaned in, determined to distract her from the pain. “So, tell me, are you enjoying being an Avenger? Well, minus this moment, of course,” you added with a playful grin.

She glanced up at you, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s been a mixed bag,” she admitted. “But honestly, it’s gotten easier over the past year. Being part of this team, being here—it means a lot.”

“Has it been a year already? It feels like time zooms by,” you mused, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It does,” she replied, her expression turning thoughtful. “Still, some things linger… they never truly fade away.”

As you promised, the Cradle worked its magic, and within half an hour, the sharp pain plaguing Wanda completely faded away. Her rib knit back together as if it had never been injured in the first place. She had to remember this thing was down here more often, tucked away as it was in the corner of the lab.

“Feeling better?” you inquired, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“Completely, thank you,” Wanda replied, her smile relieved. 

You waved her off with a grin, “Anytime, Maximoff.”

As she slipped her coat back on, a curiosity caught her eye, drawing her attention to Peter's glimmering invitation to the New Year’s Eve celebration carelessly left on your desk. With a flick of her wrist and a flourish of her red magic, the card gracefully soared through the air and landed in her hand.

“Are we going to be graced by the honor of your presence on New Year’s Eve?” Wanda teased, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

You rolled your eyes at her playful banter. “Yes,” you confirmed, your tone light but resigned. “Only because Peter is annoyingly persistent.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” Wanda urged as she stepped closer. “I’m not one for big, noisy parties either.”

You couldn’t help but smirk in response. “It’s a far cry from a typical Tony Stark party.”

“Consider it a refreshing change of pace,” she replied, giving your shoulder a friendly pat as she made her way past you, her vibrant energy trailing in her wake.

“See you later, Y/N,” she called over her shoulder, her voice echoing with a playful lilt as she left the lab.

*^~^*

On New Year’s Eve, you quickly stopped at the charming little store on the corner. Your eyes were drawn to a stunning purple orchid. Next to it, a bottle of bubbly champagne caught your attention, the golden label glimmering under the soft store lights. 

It felt peculiar to buy a gift for someone who seemed to have everything, yet your mother's words echoed in your mind: Never show up to a party without a host gift. Besides, you knew Pepper would appreciate the thoughtfulness behind your gesture.

As you stepped into the bustling common room of the Avengers Compound, the savory aroma of sizzling burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air. Steve was at the helm of the indoor grill, flipping patties and bratwursts. In one corner, Thor animatedly spun tales of wild Asgardian New Year's Eve celebrations, his booming laughter echoing around the room. Nearby, Natasha and Clint were locked in a tense game of pool, their playful banter peppered with competitive jabs.

“Y/N!” Pepper called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted you across the room, with Tony following closely behind. “What a stunning orchid! Thank you so much,” she exclaimed, graciously taking the plant from your hands.

“Even better, what about this gorgeous bottle of champagne?” Tony chimed in with a playful grin. “Let’s pop it!”

As Vision extended his hand to take your coat and scarf, Peter dashed over, his excitement radiating as he presented a vibrant, multicolored party hat. “See? I told you it would be just the team!” he exclaimed.

Looking down at the hat, you chuckled and asked, “Do I have to wear this?”

“Yes,” Sam declared confidently, while Rhodey firmly asserted, “No,” at the exact moment.

The warm, inviting aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as you entered the kitchen. There, in the heart of it all, was Wanda, standing under the soft kitchen lights as she expertly arranged a tray of cookies.

“Hey, Maximoff. Happy New Year’s Eve!” you called out.

“Thank you, Y/N. Would you like to try one?” She held out a cookie, the chocolate chips glistening from the oven's heat. “It’s my special recipe, just baked.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. Snatching one from the tray, you took a hearty bite, the soft, chewy texture melting in your mouth. “Wanda, this is delicious!”

“I know,” she said with a playful smirk.

After indulging in a lavish New Year’s Eve dinner featuring perfectly grilled steak, vibrant roasted vegetables, and creamy garlic mashed potatoes, everyone gathered outside on the Compound dock to watch fireworks.

The night sky over upstate New York twinkled like a jewel-encrusted canvas, each star shining brightly against the deep indigo backdrop. Wrapped snugly in the fluffiest blanket, you nestled closer to Wanda, feeling a warm cocoon of comfort between the chilly air and the soft fabric. Tony pulled up the live stream of Times Square, the bustling energy of the crowd pulsating through the screen. The iconic ball began its descent as you started the countdown.

“3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone shouted. 

In the distance, the night sky erupted with a brilliant fireworks display, each explosion painting the heavens with vibrant red, blue, and gold hues. The dazzling lights flickered and shimmered, casting a mesmerizing reflection on the tranquil surface of the lake below, where the water mirrored the kaleidoscopic bursts in a breathtaking dance of color. The crackling sounds echoed through the air as you and the team took in the spectacle. 

“Isn’t it beautiful, Maximoff?” you murmured, gently nudging Wanda with your elbow. But she didn’t respond.

Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, her eyes wide with a distant fear. You could see her breath growing shallow as panic began to creep in.

“Wanda, are you alright?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

The rest of the team quickly noticed the tension, some exchanging worried glances, unsure how to intervene.

Before you could say another word, Wanda sprang to her feet, urgency radiating from her. “I have to go! It’s not safe here; the bombs are coming!”

“Red, listen to me,” Tony said cautiously, taking a few steps toward her. “You’re alright.”

“No! It’s your fault!” Wanda shouted at Tony, her voice trembling as she retreated, close to stumbling into the lake’s edge. “Where’s Pietro? I have to protect him!”

“Wanda,” Natasha called out gently, her hands up in a placating gesture. “You’re not in Sokovia anymore. You’re at the Avengers Compound.”

“Don’t touch me!” Wanda screamed, her hands igniting with a crimson glow, pulsating with the raw emotion that threatened to overflow.

“Wanda,” you said gently, stepping before your friend, blocking out the storm in her mind. “You’re having a flashback, but you’re safe now.”

As tears streamed down her cheeks, your heart ached for the redhead. You took a slow, steady step closer. “Let’s take some deep breaths together. Just follow my lead.”

With each inhale and exhale, you felt her breathing begin to sync with yours. “You’re doing amazing,” you encouraged, extending your hand toward her. After a moment of hesitation, Wanda took your hand, gripping it tightly as she breathed deeply.

“Can you tell me what you see around you?” you coaxed, keeping your voice calm and steady.

Wanda blinked away her tears and glanced around, her voice barely a whisper. “The lake, the dock… the compound… the trees… you.” 

“Perfect,” you reassured her, a small smile breaking through the tension.

"How about we head inside for a bit?" you suggested softly, reassuringly smiling.

"Okay," she replied, her eyes brightening at the idea.

With that, you wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder as you headed for the compound. 

“Take your time,” Sam urged, a reassuring smile on his face as the rest of the team nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with understanding.

You led Wanda into the room, gently guiding her to the couch. A hush enveloped the space as you sat beside her—an unspoken agreement to give her the time she needed.

After a heavy silence, she finally broke the stillness. “This has happened before, you know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Loud noises, bright flashes. I’m ten years old again, curled under the table with Pietro, waiting for Stark’s missile to kill us. Just like it did to my parents.”

You listened with focused attention, every word resonating in the stillness. “Wanda, I’m truly sorry for what you’ve endured. I can't even fathom your pain. But please know this—no matter what your mind is whispering, you’re safe here.”

A tremor of regret laced her voice. “I ruined New Year’s Eve. I feel so broken inside.”

You leaned in closer, determined to comfort her. “Wanda, you haven’t ruined anything, and you’re not broken. What you’re feeling is your mind’s way of shielding you from past hurts,” you said gently. “Have you considered speaking with someone? Sam runs a fantastic group for veterans dealing with PTSD. I know he would welcome you warmly.”

“No group therapy,” Wanda declared with a determined look.

“Understood,” you replied thoughtfully. “But I’m sure Sam would be open to meeting with you one-on-one, or he could help you find someone else. And if you need to talk, I’m just down the hall.”

“Really?” Wanda’s gaze softened as she searched your face for sincerity. You nodded reassuringly. “Thank you, Y/N. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother?”

“I’m practically all alone in the lab these days, so your company would be a breath of fresh air,” you replied, giving her a friendly smile.

Wanda tilted her head with curiosity. “You miss Bruce?”

“Very much,” you sighed, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “After finishing medical school, I had the privilege of studying under Dr. Banner. I’ve been a part of this band of misfits from the moment Natasha found him in that remote hut in India. My life has felt a bit empty without him around.”

Wanda’s expression softened, and she gently touched your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, appreciating her empathy. “And just so you know, I mean it when I say you’re always welcome to come and talk to me about anything.”

The redhead wrapped her arms around you in an unexpected embrace, catching you off guard. You instinctively settled your chin on her shoulder, returning the hug with warmth and gratitude.

As moments passed in this intimate bubble, the rest of the team filtered back inside, a rush of cold air swirling around them. You could sense their concern, their eyes darting toward Wanda, eager to check her well-being.

From that day forward, your lab door stood open for Wanda Maximoff—a welcoming space where she could let her guard down and start to heal. You felt a reassuring certainty that everything would be alright as long as she embraced her new family. What you hadn’t yet come to realize, however, was that the Avengers were your family, too—woven into the fabric of your life in ways you had yet to fully understand.

[comfxrtablykai]

Him & I

💿 ྀིChapter one: You ain't my boyfriend Bucky Barnes x fem!SHIELD!reader

Chapter summery: Life isn't the best, but it is something for an ex-hydra assassin. Too bad he had a pain in the ass friend which he begrudgingly cared about so much (he'll be dead before he lets her know that though).

Warnings: early morning drinking, possibly cringe nicknames (my apologies), friends to lovers

{a/n: omgggg chapter one is out! don't forget to comment and reblog if you like the fic!}

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

"Oh, you have gotta be kiddin' me." The brunette groaned as he saw the sight above him. He was hoping to have a fairly peaceful day ahead of him—well, as much peace he can get in his chaotic life as an ex-hydra assassin. But that little hope of peace was immediately shattered as soon as he'd woken up. His blanket was draped on his lower half and on top of the blanket was an annoying woman straddling his waist and drinking his favourite whiskey: you.

You smirked and drank another swig of his whiskey straight from the bottle, feeling the burn in your throat as the sweet nectar flowed in your veins. “What’s with the frown, sugar? Didn't you miss daddy while she was gone?” You grinned as you said those words and huffed out a laugh.

When he tried to reach for his bottle of whiskey, you quickly put it behind your back where his feet were. You had a pretty maniacally wide grin on your face. Oh, how you had missed your best friend while you were on a mission.

He scoffed when you put his whiskey near his feet and rubbed his hands down his face in annoyance, but you could see the faint curve of amusement ghosting on his lips. He pushed himself up on his elbows, his blanket falling to reveal more of his amazing abs, his dog tags resting in the space between his pecs. “Absolutely not. Now leave so I can preserve the rest of my sanity, dumbo.”

Ah, dumbo. The nickname which he had very sweetly started calling you. Did you share any qualities with the adorable baby elephant? Nothing really if it were up to you. But he insisted you had his big expressive eyes, and you were dumb.

You scoffed and pushed him down on the bed, “no.” You spoke like your word was the final verdict, though he would disagree, he was just too tired to fight on it right now. You got off his lap and sat on his bed, the linen sheets under you. “Listen here, loser. I have a post mission debriefing this afternoon with Fury, but I have to go shopping for a dress for Tony’s party tomorrow.” Loser, another nickname you had opted to call him just because. It had really annoyed you when he started calling you dumbo, so you had to do something about it.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, not understanding the importance of the situation. He just rubbed his eyes and tried to get off the bed. You grabbed his vibranium arm and pulled him back on the bed, “loser,” your whine was undignified, but you didn't really care, “you need to do the debriefing for me or else it’ll end up stretching too long and I'll have no time for shopping!”

Bucky used that said vibranium arm to push you off the bed, making you yelp. You groaned and rubbed your head as you watched your so-called best friend’s feet walk away to his closet “Do your own debriefing, dumbo. Plus, you have enough clothes in your closet. Just wear one of those other clothes you have.”

You scoffed and sat on the carpeted floor with a pout, “But I don't! I have clothes, not outfits.” You sighed and got up, leaning against the wall. “You're really hurting daddy's feelings, sugar.” Bucky had now worn one of his henleys, though his netherlands were still only covered by his black boxers. Bucky's room was probably the most simplistic out of all the rooms in the compound.

His walls were plain white, and he had enough clothes to fit a normal closet, unlike you who had a walk-in one in your room. He had the most gorgeous floor to ceiling windows since his room was on the highest floor, which meant his room looked beautiful in natural sunlight. Despite that, he had some remnants of his past life in his room like a worn out copy of The Hobbit, a vintage ottoman and gorgeous wall clock which resided in front of his bed. And of course, the white wolf plushie you had gifted him on his bed.

You didn't wanna pull this move, but you had to, he was playing hard to get. You picked up the white wolf plushie and hugged it close to you. You looked at him with a pout and your lethal puppy eyes, but before you could say anything, he proceeded to flick your forehead with his finger and walk out of his room to the common bathroom on the floor. You sighed dramatically and laid on his bed like a frail Victorian woman.

 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

As you dragged yourself with your notes to the debriefing, you were sulking. You had seen the PERFECT dress, and you wouldn’t be able to get it on time for the party because of the stupid debrief. You hated post-mission meetings, they weren’t fun. Missions were fun, they had a mystery, a risk, you get to punch bad guys sometimes. Yet, their meetings could be fun, but Fury wants you to be serious and not talk about how cool you looked while shooting a guy. A broad shouldered figure stopped you in your tracks as you bumped into the back of a leather jacket. You groaned and the man clad in black turned around, but your face immediately lit up at the sight of your best friend. “Loser? What’re you doing here?” He took the notes from your shocked hands and you just tried to hide your grin.

He knew you probably were not gonna let this go easily but was it worth it? Totally. You would've been annoying him more if you hadn't gone shopping, “doing your debriefing for you.” He kept the notes on the table behind him. There were two of those on either side of the door for decoration.

A look of shock fluttered in your eyes before a coy smile danced on your lips as your fingers so slowly trailed up his chest, only to stop and play with his collar. You bit your bottom lip, grasping it between your teeth before releasing it, “so—”. You were taking your sweet time teasing him, despite your excitement being barely contained. That is until he flicked your forehead with his vibranium finger. “HEY! You can’t do that!” He tried his best to hide the smirk that was forming on his lips, but he couldn’t. Something about your constant theatrics always made him laugh even when he desperately tried not to, “be grateful I’m doing the debrief, dumbass.” You gibed internally at his words. Grateful my foot, you thought to yourself.

But you couldn’t contain your excitement anymore. Bucky almost tripped and fell on his ass before he caught himself on the glass doors of the meeting room as you wrapped your arms around his neck, practically jumping on top of him like a monkey. “THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” Bucky pushed you away, but his face didn’t even try to mask the softness in his pale blue eyes, or the way his lips curled up into a half-smile. It wasn’t a smirk, it wasn’t laced with smugness or unpleasantries. It was the smile a grump like him gave when he didn’t want to give an actual smile. “You know, James, if you keep doing kind gestures like that…” You smugly leaned back against a small table beside the glass doors which held a vase atop it, “I might just start thinking you actually see me as your best friend.” Bucky knitted his eyebrows together, three wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. He pursed his lips, tilting his head in consideration. “No, my best friend is Steve.” “Your good friend?” “Sam.” He said and shrugged. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at you, his lips curling up into a sly smirk, “you… you are a pain in my ass.” He drawled in a way which made you scowl. Your face of grimace finally made him show genuine amusement, even if it was only for a few seconds. Then, put his hands on your shoulder and pulled you from the table, and then pushed you away lightly, “now go, get your stupid dress.” He picked up the notes from behind him, “if you tell this to anyone, I’ll kill you.” Your frown softened into a smile and you shoved your hands into the pocket of your jacket. You turned around and walked down the hallway, but not before throwing a glance over your shoulder, “don’t miss me!” and you turned back around before hearing his response. However, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I won’t.”

[ynstark]

His Angel - (Part One)

Title: His Angel (Part One)

Characters/Pairings: Post!Endgame!Steve Rogers x Female!Adoptive!Stark!Virgin!Reader

Summary: You confide in Steve that you're a virgin. He's honesty shocked, but maybe he can be you first and hopefully you last.

Reader is in her 20s and Steve is in his mid 30s.

Minors DNI! Please and thank you!

Contents/Warnings: explicit smut, use of the nickname Angel a lot, mentions of death, talks of a toxic father, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, hint of a praise kink, talks of intercourse, talks of sex!toy use, angst, aftercare, Steve has a little bit of an ego, it's tiny, hopefully I listed them all, If I didn't let me know!

Author's Note: Ummm Hi, so I wrote my first fanfic. I've been studying the dark arts for a while and decided to take a crack at it. I don't know the word count, it came out ridiculously long. I just wrote whatever came to my head. Takes place a year after Tony's Memorial. This is a one time thing and won't happen again because I don't think I could write something like this ever again. Edit: Well, I started writing a prequel which takes place right after Tony's Memorial. So 20 likes and I'll drop that, but this is not happening again. Edit, Edit: This is now going to be pt 1 and there will be a pt 2 on top of the prequel. I didn't mean to write a lot of backstory, but it happened. If you squint, Steve is a soft!dom. I didn't grammar check so I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. Do not repost my work anywhere. Likes and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. Peace and love, enjoy. 🤍

Tonight was the night, you're going to loose your virginity to Steve Rogers. Everyone was on a mission for the past few days except for you and Steve, which left the whole compound to yourselves. You had confided in Steve one night that you were still a virgin, which came as a total shock to him. You were a fireball with confidence cascading out of you like water. Any man would be lucky to have you, but he also remembered your past and how your own father had treated you, which is why Tony adopted you after the snap.

Tony and your father worked together for years, but Tony knew the truth. You always had to convince him not to intervene for the sack of your mother, but then the snap happened and your mother was one of its victims. Tony had a good case for custody. He wasn't going to leave you in the care of your father and stand by and watch. Natasha also became a mother figure to you. Visiting you when she could and training you, which led to you going on missions. Tony didn't love that, but he knew you enjoyed going on them and you were a good asset to the team. You got to be a big sister to Morgan and Tony got to experience what it was like to have a grown up daughter and a new born at the same time, which he was grateful for before he died.

Tony left a letter for Steve asking him to take care of you. He knew you were a capable woman and that you could take care of yourself, but with him and Natasha gone, he knew you would drown emotionally. At least Tony could leave you in peace knowing you had Steve to lean on. After the memorial, Steve would check in on you. He would call you, visit you at your apartment or you would go to his. He would make sure you went to therapy, asked if you had visited Pepper and Morgan, or that you were taking care of yourself. You two grew close. The compound was finally rebuilt, which you and the rest of the avengers were grateful for. It was nice to be living with each other again. Steve started to call you Angel. He saw how your eyes had a little twinkle in them when he called you that. Bucky and Sam teased him about it. They could tell that Steve was falling for you the more he got to know you. Steve knew this isn't what Tony meant when he asked him to "take care of you", but Steve knew he couldn't ignore what he was feeling. He just didn't want to cross a line if you weren't ready. The problem was, he couldn't tell if you were.

Even though you knew that not all men were bad, especially being close to all the men in the avengers, your own father really set the example that you couldn't trust them, or tell if they had good intentions with you. The conversation with Steve took place one night when Steve decided to cook dinner for the two of you at the compound. Steve asked for your assistance in the kitchen, he really has no idea what he's doing. You sat on the counter giving him pointers and watching him to make sure he didn't burn anything.

"So, you're a virgin?" Steve asked, his curiosity fully peaked as he worked over the stove.

"Yup, unless you count using a dildo, but otherwise, no, I have not had the full experience."

"Never had someone go down on you?" You shake your head no to his question.

"Fingered you?"

"N.O. Rogers."

"Your first kiss?" He was definitely prying now.

"No." You could feel the loneliness set in you again.

"Pretty pathetic huh?" You looked down at your feet. Steve turned towards you, an empathetic look in his eyes, he could sense your mood had shifted.

"Hey, known of that, you're not pathetic. I've only slept with one person, and well, kissed Natasha."

"You kissed Natasha!" You asked surprised at his new confession.

"It was one time and she kissed me! It was so we didn't blow our cover. I'm surprised she never told you about it." Steve went back to stirring the pasta.

"Well she probably didn't want that image tattooed in my brain, it's also more believable that she kissed you." You snickered.

"Ha ha, very funny." he responded, you laughed again, making Steve get a little defensive. "Hey! I have game!"

"Really! I would love to see it in action Rogers."

"Well maybe I can try it out on you." Steve wanted a hole to open up and swallow him whole, he couldn't believe he actually said that out loud to you. Before he had time to retract his statement, you responded with, "Hmm, maybe." Steve paused to look over at you, he could sense no discomfort from you, you were actually serious.

"I'm sorry, did I hear a "maybe" Angel?" Steve stopped what he was doing to give you his full undivided attention. You sat there with that confidence he loved so much radiating off of you. You wanted him to actually try. Steve turned the stove off and slowly approached you. He knew he had to be careful with you. He couldn't just take you right here in the kitchen, even though he'd love to see you fall apart for him on his cock bent over the kitchen counter. "Control yourself Rogers." He thought to himself. Steve didn't want to trigger you. Once he was in front of you, you slightly spread your legs so he could stand in between them. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation and boy did Steve get hard once he saw your bottom lip disappear between your teeth.

"Can I touch you Angel?" He asked gently, you nodded. A tiny please slipped out from your lips. Steve chuckled a little. Guess he had that effect on you. He started with his hands on your thighs working their way up to your hips and then settling them on your bum. He gave it a little squeeze and you jumped at his motion, but not in a scared way, more of a "Please continue. I like what you're doing" way. Your hands travel up to fold behind his neck as Steve pulls you closer, you could feel his erection against you.

"So that's what that feels like." Steve couldn't help but burst out laughing at your statement, throwing his head back. You joined in on his laughter.

"Yes Angel, that is what an erection feels like." He responded still laughing.

"I did that to you?!" Your complete oblivion of a man's reaction to you made Steve want you more.

"Shit I didn't know we were that powerful." You continued, Steve thought, "If this woman only knew what power she has over me."

"Very powerful, if you told me to sacrifice myself, I'd do it in a heartbeat." Steve had the biggest dopey smile on his face as you laughed at his response. Once both of your laughter settled down, the reality set back in. Questions started to swirl in your head. Were you really ready to go through with this and let Steve have unconditionally access to you in the most intimate way possible? Could you get out of your head and let a man shower you in an abundance of love that you had never experienced before? You were brought out of your swirling when Steve got your attention by asking his own question.

"Angel, can I kiss you?" Steve asked, trying not to freak you out, but he could see the tiny panic in your eyes already, he starts to pull back, but you grab his arms.

"I need five minutes, I'll meet you in your room, I just need to get myself together. Can I have five minutes?" you asked quickly.

"You can have all the time in the world." He laughed, "What about dinner?" His eyes wonder over to the unfinished pasta in the pot.

"Screw dinner, you're about to screw me!" You jump off the counter and out of his arms, Steve couldn't help but smile. You're racing out of the kitchen when you turn around to tell him again, "Five minutes, okay?"

"Five minutes Angel, I'll be there." You leave him in the kitchen to clean up the dinner that never happened, racing to your room, and locking the door behind you. You take a few deep breaths. Tonight is the night, you're going to loose your virginity to Steve Rogers. You quickly change into a pair of comfy clothes, deciding to forgo your under garments. What's the point when Steve was going to rip you out of them anyway. You fixed your hair to have some form of sex-appeal. Quickly shaved and moisturized. You looked in the mirror, you did what you could on short notice, if anything you looked cute instead of sexy. Still looking in the mirror, you hyped yourself up. "You got this, Steve would never hurt you." You walked out of your room and headed to Steve's. It's more comfortable for you to go to his room than to let him into yours. You never had a man in your room except for Sam or Bucky when they stole your snacks now and then.

Steve patiently waits for you, sitting on his bed when he hears your tiny knock. Eyes glimmering with adoration when he opens his door and sees you. Even though you changed into a t-shirt and shorts, he still thought you were absolutely beautiful, breathtaking.

He closes the door behind you, he can see your mind whirling, you become timid. He knows this is new territory for you, he has to be, no, wants to be gentle with you. He's going to treat you like a porcelain doll the first time around. Even though you could kill someone just by looking at them, but here you are, choosing to be the most vulnerable and intimate with him.

"We don't have to do this tonight Angel, could just cuddle and watch a movie." He watches as you ponder on the alternative.

"No, I want to try, I trust you Steve." He saw the trust in your eyes, you were ready to give him complete access to you.

Steve nods and approaches you, slowly, putting his hands on your waist. You melt into his touch bringing your own hands against his chest. He kisses your forehead as you breathe out a sigh of relief. He pulls away just enough to cup your chin so you can look up at him.

"At any moment you feel uncomfortable, you tell me to stop, okay?" You nod.

"Words Angel." You look up at him again, giving him a quiet "Okay."

Steve looks into your eyes one more time to make sure you were really okay with this. Once he saw no changes in your mood, he proceeds to lean down.

"Let's try this again, can I kiss you Angel?" You respond with a quiet yes. Steve kisses you softly and gently. You melt into his lips. He pulls you closer against him, moving one hand to cradle the back of your head.

Your hands moved down to the hem of his shirt, giving him the signal you wanted him to take it off. In one swift motion his shirt was off and his hands back on you in an instant. He starts to slowly push you back until you land on his bed. He crawls on top of you, making sure to not apply his entire weight on you and plants a short kiss on your lips.

"Can I take this off?" He asked, slightly tugging at your shirt.

"Yes." You respond as he helps you sit up, slowly peeling off the material from your body. Your nipples instantly pebble once the cool air hits them. Steve's eyes gleam, he then looks back at you, leaning forward and whispers against your lips, "Absolutely beautiful, Angel."

He kisses you again, laying you down his bed once more. All you could do was smile. He comes back up and motions to your shorts, "And these? Can they come off too?" You nod with a smile and respond with a yes. He slowly rolls them down your legs leaving quick kisses on your thigh. Soft whimpers leave your mouth. Your left completely bare to him.

"No panties Angel? And here I thought you were a good girl." Steve smirked down at you. He takes in your bare form, his Angel, his beautiful virgin angel, ready for him to claim. He slowly positioned himself between your legs, hands gripping your thighs as his face comes face to face with your most intimate part. You feel his warm breath against you and you let out a little cry. "No reason to keep quiet Angel, there's no one here to hear you but me, be as loud as you want." Steve didn't mean to drag this out, but he knew he couldn't rush into this. He doesn't want to break the trust you granted him.

"Angel you're dripping, gonna touch you okay? Gonna make you feel good." He waits for your yes, moving one of his hands to your clit, his thumb making small circles on your little bud. "Stevie." You moan out. You felt your heart flutter, no one has ever touched you like this, let alone seen you like this. You prop yourself on your elbows to watch him.

"Think you can take one of my fingers?" He asks, you nod eagerly. He slowly enters his middle finger into your needy hole. His finger was definitely bigger than yours, but not big enough like one of you dildos. It's definitely been a while since you used one. The stretch feels nice. He lets his finger slide in and out of you as your walls flutter around his finger. "Feels so good Stevie." Yours eyes close and more whimpers fell out from your lips.

"That's it Angel, make a mess for me." Steve lets out a little moan himself realizing how tight you actually are. "Fuck you're so tight. Wondering how my cock will fit." You moan loud at his realization. He lets out a little chuckle, "Don't worry Angel, we'll make it fit, maybe I should just stretch you out tonight instead? Hmm?" He already knows your answer.

"That's not funny Steve, you wouldn't dare." There was his strong willed girl. You look at him with determination that you're going to take his cock tonight whether it hurts or not and Steve is happy to oblige. "Don't worry your pretty head. You'll get my cock tonight, but I need to do a proper tasting first." Another string of loud whimpers leave you. Steve slowly removes his finger, he couldn't wait to dive head first into your pussy.

"Ready Angel?" You give him a whinny yes at the anticipation. Finally lowering his mouth to your weeping hole, his tongue making contact to the place his been dying to try. Your head falls back and a song of moans leaves your throat. Steve was grinning like the cheshire cat. He continues his assault, dipping his tongue in you occasionally, which you seem to like a lot. He makes a mental note of that. The foreign feeling of his tongue becomes pure pleasure. Your fingers could never create the feeling of what Steve's tongue was doing to you. He laps at you like it's his final meal. Steve comes up for air making the comment, "Tastes like pure honey, could eat you out forever Angel." He dives back in, applying more pressure and you buck your hips up in excitement. You try to close your thighs, but Steve isn't having it, his grip is impossible to fight. You weave one of your hands into his hair, fingers scratching his scalp, pulling him closer to your core. Steve lets out a moan of satisfaction. He knows you close and ready to finally have your release. A few more licks and your dam breaks. The high and pleasure is unlike anything you have ever felt. Steve keeps his tongue pressed to your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. You come down from your high, clearly out of it, in the best way possible.

"Still with me Angel?" Steve comes up from your pussy.

"Uh Huh" You couldn't say anything else. Your brain was so fuzzy. Steve had given you one of the best orgasms in your entire life. Steve looks at you and sees your face. He knows that look. You're so fucked out, maybe he pushed you too far tonight.

"We can stop tonight Angel, you did so good." Steve responds, ready to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

You think about it, you really do want to be with it when Steve makes you cum on his cock, you know, get the full experience.

"As much as I want you to fuck me, you really wiped me out. That was, really good Steve. Thank you." You breathe out, panting.

"You're welcome Angel. I promise to fuck you properly soon, it's a date." He kisses the inside of your thigh and gets up to get you a glass of water, which you happily accept and a wash cloth to clean you up. He comes back handing you the glass and gets to work on cleaning you. He can tell your sensitive when he hears you whimper from his touch. He tries not to stimulate you to the best of his ability. After he's done, he puts the wash cloth in the laundry basket and comes back to lay down next to you. He watches you as you catch your breath, admiring your fucked out state, knowing he's the one who caused it.

You finish the water, placing the glass on the nightstand and find your way back to him, lying across his chest. Steve engulfs you in his arms and pulls the covers up to encase you in a warm embrace. His fingers lightly drawing patterns across your back, as he places another kiss to your forehead. You and him stay like this for the rest of the night, enjoying the comfortable silence. It takes Steve back to a time where all you two knew was silence amongst each other. Now, he doesn't mind it, especially if it leads to you curdled up in his arms. He's glad that you chose him to be your first and he's definitely going to make sure he's your last. No one touches his Angel, but him.

"Good night, Angel." He whispers into your ear, pulling you closer to him. "Night Stevie." You slowly drift off to a deep and peaceful sleep, knowing that Steve will be right there when you wake up.

Hope you enjoyed! 🤍

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

MCU Play toy Headcanons

18+ MDNI

A/N: This is my first time posting anything like this. I wrote this up a while ago and finally decided to post it. Please ignore any spelling errors!

-Y/N gets hired by Tony for the rest of the team as a way to de-stress after missions

-Y/N gets used by most of the Avengers on the daily, but is always happy to please.

-Y/N is a switch but most of the Avengers are doms

-Y/N loves when they're lounging around and then someone will come up and just start fucking them no matter where it is

-living room? Fucked. Kitchen? Fucked. Meeting room? Fucked. Meeting room during a meeting? Oh honey you're in for a good time.

-Y/N has their own room and bed, but tends to sleep on the floor of someone else's room because that's what good pets do

-Y/N will sometimes get to sleep with someone for the night, usually Wanda who is a soft Dom and likes being called Mommy. She loves holding her baby. To Wanda you're her baby not her pet and that makes you feel special

-Nat is into some darker stuff that you didn't realize you liked until she introduced you to them (knife play, noncon con, somnophilia, omorashi, branding, dacryphilia, breeding)

-Nat has a dick and you would never pick favorites, but hers is your favorite

-Steve likes regular sex, but is super rough and into hair pulling and choking

-Loki uses his magic to make you fall fast into sub space and big on degrading.

-Thor is the opposite and only ever praises you he loves calling you princess

-Bucky is rough with you, but praises the whole time on how well you're doing, calls you doll as his nickname for you

-Bruce refused to use you at first and it wasn't until after him and hulk were able to live harmoniously that he fucked you, “Oh look at you big boy. I don't know if you'll fit like this.” “I'll make it fit and you'll take it all.” You do.

-Tony, Rhodey, Scott, Clint and Sam all don't fuck you as they have their own things going on.

-You thought Kate would be gentle with you, but she ends up being pretty rough and talks you through everything, grounding you in the moment which overwhelms you with pleasure.

-Yelena, who you thought would be rough, is actually a sub, a little at that. Her childhood ripped away from her and now she just wants ‘Mommy’ which you have no problems giving her.

-Tasha feels really uncomfortable at first when Yelena and Kate join the Avengers since Yelena is her sister.

-You understand why, but you have to remind her it's still your job

-Yelena is huge on physical touch and requires it often. Skin to skin is best.

-speaking of love languages you try your best with everyone's love languages as you all get to know each of them

-Steve is words of affirmation and quality time. Always tell him how good he's doing and you guys go on “dates” having dinner or watching a movie or doing a puzzle

-Bruce is acts of service and quality time. This usually involves you being in the lab and helping him whenever he needs it.

-Thor is WoA, physical touch, and quality time. He likes taking you out and experiencing new things

-Natasha is WoA and acts of service. You always praise her while you're fucking, “oh your cock is amazing! It fits me perfectly!” Saying things like that sends Nat over the edge.

-Loki is mainly all about physical touch. When you two are out he always has a hand or an arm on you

-Wanda's is quality time and WoA. You two love watching sitcoms her favorites are the old ones and yours are the new ones like The Office and Big Bang Theory

There comes a point where you realize that you actually love each and every Avenger, and it worries you that they only see you as a toy, but it's the farthest thing for them mostly.

[renren-006]

Pickin' Boys | Bucky x reader

Slim Pickins from Short n Sweet

Plot:Bucky wants you, and maybe you keep bitching about the dating scene bc you want him aswell

A/N: so i loveeeee Sabrinas new album and decided to have some fun with one of the songs! maybe ill write more with Bucky and songs who knows!! enjoyyyyy

taglist: @rosecentury

“Guess Ill end this life alone. What? I'm not dramatic,” you told Natasha. The two of you were at the bar during one of Tony's parties. A nice dress hugged your body. Natasha rolled her eyes at you, clearly not thinking you weren't dramatic. 

“The only person more dramatic than you, is Tony” She told you. You laughed a little, knowing the two of you could have an all out dramatic off and he’d win for sure. Of the avengers dating lives it seemed you all had your crazy stories, some more than others. 

“A boy whos jacked and kind. Cant find his ass to save my life”

“Alright girl, I think you just need to find someone here tonight,” Nat said. 

“Yea like who?” you asked

Bucky:

Please pick me. He watched as you talked to Natasha Romanoff, he heard your conversation. He fit the bill and it seems you never looked his way. He wanted you to look his way. The rest of the night was more flirting on your part with random guys at the party, all seeming to make the ‘not’ list instead of ‘mr right’.

“Ya know you could talk to her” Steve said next to Bucky. Bucky sipped his drink aware of his friend's eyes following him as he watched you. 

“I could” was all he said. He wasn't the bold type, had not been that man since the 40s, but here he was wishing he was still James Barns. The man you noticed him to be. You never called him Bucky or the other nicknames Tony had for him. Instead you called him James, or Barns, both sounding right coming from your lips. 

“It's slim pickins out here” you muttered to another girl at the party who laughed at your comment. “I guess if i can't have the one i love, need to find someone to be kissing” 

The one she loved, that made bucks ears burn. Steve noticed and sauntered over to you. Bucky kept to his area by the wall.

“Are you in love, Agent?” Steve asked you, making you turn in your heels.

“i…Yea” you said defeated. “Jesus what's a girl to do?” 

“Talk to the guy,” Steve asked. 

“Can't. Doubt he is interested in me anyways.” you told him. “Plus he's got this…bad boy vibe around him. A boy whos nice, that breaths I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

“Why do you need a nice guy?” Steve asked you. Your eyes kept flashing back to Buckys making him wonder what was happening. 

“If i can't have the one I love Steve, i'll just keep on moaning and bitching”

“Who is it?” Steve asked, and you pointed directly towards Bucky. His back flexed, he was standing taller now, watching you. 

“You best friend captain”

“Well, good news, no more moaning and bitching” he said, putting himself to the side to let Bucky walk over. 

“Hi James” you said sweetly. “Agent y/n” he said. “I could have saved you from all this if you had just asked”

“Im stubborn like that” “Well if you want to quit bitching, I can have you moaning instead,” Bucky said. A blush spread on your cheeks. 

[buckyalpine]

Shapeshifting Bucky

Random thought from the depths of crackfic hell. But imagine an AU where Bucky's time with hydra also included the ability to shape shift on top of his super soldier serum. He can turn into whatever but he really only shifts into a wolf most of the time. Stealthy, huge, strong, agile and an absolute puppy. Werewolf Bucky is the scariest mf to exist. In his wolf form, his fur is nearly jet black, a stark contrast to his beautiful blue eyes. His teeth turn into sharp fangs and his claws could slash through just about anything.

However.

The large furry thing is nothing but a little puppy around you.

Human Bucky struggles to show his affection for you even though he loves you like crazy. He loves touching you but hesitates to do anything. Wolf Bucky has 0 issue hopping onto the sofa he doesn't fit on, attempting to curl up in your lap. He doesn't fit on your lap either and you end up drowning under a heavy mass of dark fur, the chuff he makes as you adjust himself is equivalent to his usual pouty face.

How dare you try and squirm away when he wants pets and cuddles.

And honestly, he's pretty irresistible. Even Tony's found himself petting the soft fur when he walks by, scrunching his face when he realizes who he's petting and cursing to himself immediately after. It's not just Tony either. Most of the Avengers catch themselves mid pet, occasionally shrugging and going back in while shaking their heads at themselves.

That isn't the only thing wolf Bucky enjoys.

“Bucky!” You stare at your boyfriend who was a human last time you left him, now in his wolf form sitting on top of your duffle bag you'd packed for an upcoming mission. There's no way for you to get to it, sitting as its hidden underneath him and it doesn't look like he has any plans on moving. He growls when you try and get closer, daring for you to try and leave when you just got back from a mission earlier in the week.

"Baby, I have to go, you gotta get off" You try to reason with him but he just stares at you with piercing blue eyes. By now you can read his body language and he's not hearing any of it.

Don't think so, stay with me

"C'mon, you know I'll be back soon" You gently scratch the top of his head and he nuzzles into your palm. He tiled his head to the side widening his gaze as best as he could and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked, silently pleading with you.

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes Barnes, that's not fair" You coo while he lets out a whine, huffing and resting his head on his front large paws until his ears perk up with a bright idea.

"For fucks sake Bucky!" You laugh incredulously when he picks up the bag with his teeth, shaking the clothes out and burying himself under them, happy to be surrounded by your scent and finding another way to keep you there.

"What’s going on" Steve walked by the room, wondering why you hadn't come to the jet yet, eyes growing wide when he saw what his best friend was up to "What the hell"

"Oh my god" Sam looked over Steve's shoulder, snorting at the way Bucky was now half asleep while you were still in your tac suit but your bag now nearly torn to bits. You shrugged, deciding to give up, looking at the over grown puppy waiting for a belly rub, giving the two men an apologetic smile.

Bucky snuggled happily on top of your clothes, his nose nudging into your hoodie, before closing his eyes, ears twitching contently while your on the phone with Fury, coming up with a lame excuse as to why you couldn't join.

Some other things I imagine for wolf Bucky:

He's the cutest thing ever. Sam nicknamed him Sirius Black and he loves it.

Loves eating meat. Eats a lot in general.

Fiercely loyal

Likes to go on walks

I'm sorry for this, I have a headache, instead of taking an Advil and sleeping, I'm out here giving into my ridiculousness, I'll see myself out.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Deep Undercover – Timothy McGee

"Rise and shine, Mr. and Mrs. McGee!"

McGee and I jumped awake. We looked at each other and rolled our eyes. "Better hurry, Mrs. McGee. You're going to be late for work," DiNozzo jokingly taunted.

"Do you enjoy this, Tony?" Y/N asked as she got out of bed. McGee quickly looked away as she slipped her robe over her thin tank top and shorts.

"Enjoy what, Y/L/N?"

"Watching us play house?" She teased. "Or are you jealous that you don't get to pretend to be married to Tim?"

Y/N and McGee smirked when DiNozzo instantly stuttered an excuse. "Don't daydream about it too much, boys," Y/N teased as she entered the bathroom and shut the door. McGee's heart jumped into his throat when he heard the shower turn on.

He leaned against the bedrest and ran his fingers through his hair. He and Agent Y/L/N have been undercover as a married couple in a neighborhood heavily owned by Navy families. Gibbs put them here a month ago due to a tip NCIS received about an underground home-grown terrorist group. This group was full of civilian husbands, married to women in the Navy with big careers. Y/N and McGee's job was to make friends with the neighbors and get McGee an invite into the group. Getting an invite means looking like a proud Navy husband with a hint of anger and resentment. They had a plan in place to show that hint but they needed to build rapport with the neighbors first.

While Y/N showered, McGee went downstairs and made breakfast. When she came down, she was now in her Navy uniform.

"You don't have to keep doing this," she chuckled as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Keep doing what?" He asked as he put the pancakes onto a plate and turned toward her.

"You don't have to keep making breakfast every morning," she smiled as she took the plate from him.

"It's what I would do for my wife," he said. His eyes widened and he quickly added, "If this was real, I mean. I'm just trying to make all of this believable."

"I didn't say it like it was a bad thing," she chuckled. She smirked as she added, "If I was to make this real, I wouldn't have showered alone."

She walked away, fully aware of McGee frozen as her words sank in. She sat at the table and started eating the food McGee made them.

"If this was real, my husband would join me for breakfast, McGee," she called over her shoulder without turning around.

"Right," McGee stuttered. He cleared his throat as he made himself a plate and walked over to the table. He sat down across from her and the two ate without saying anything.

"What are your plans for today, sweetheart?" She asked, putting extra emphasis on the nickname.

"I need to run to the hardware store and pick up a few things," McGee said not sounding so confident. He lowered his voice and added, "Gibbs gave me a list. He thinks I'll run into some of our neighbors at the hardware store."

"We don't have to whisper in our own home, Tim," she whispered. Her voice went back to normal as she continued, "It's a good idea. If I wanted to talk to some of our neighbors, I'd go to the grocery store."

"Why can't I go to the grocery store?"

"Gender stereotypes, my dear husband," she chuckled as she stood up and cleared the table. "They suck but they are what they are around here."

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek before doing the dishes. They went through the rest of their morning as they usually do. Soon, McGee walked Y/N out of their house.

"Good morning, Kingstons!"

In the neighborhood, they were known as Kyle and Emily Kingston. Y/N's cover was a flight instructor for the Top Gun program based on her background as a Navy pilot before she joined NCIS. McGee's cover was as a computer forensics professor at MIT. To better sell their backstory, Y/N really did train pilots for the Navy while McGee taught a class at the local college.

The two turned to see the couple across the street waving at them. "The Nelsons," Y/N whispered. "She's a Navy lieutenant who works in IT. He works in some shoe store downtown."

"Morning!" McGee yelled as he raised his hand and waved. He and Y/N turned toward each other and let out small awkward chuckles.

"Show's on," Y/N whispered. She stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to McGee's lips.

"Come on, McLoverboy," DiNozzo taunted into their earpieces. "Kiss your wife goodbye. You never know what will happen at training today. This may be the last time you get to kiss Y/L/N."

"I am going to kill him," McGee mumbled as they broke the kiss. Y/N laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Breathe," she chuckled. "He's just jealous he didn't get picked for this undercover assignment. You know how much DiNozzo loves dressing up and acting like someone he's not."

"I still think Y/N and I look more like a married couple than her and McGee," Dinozzo grumbled.

"McGee makes the more convincing husband," Gibbs countered. Y/N just laughed as she kissed McGee's cheek.

"Don't forget to get more of the paint we need for the baseboards," Y/N said, slightly raising her voice.

"I will," McGee said, matching her voice level. "As long as you don't forget to be careful and to make it home alive."

"I always do," she teased as she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. McGee watched as Y/N got in her car and headed to work.

Y/N was gone all day and McGee was home. Gibbs set it up this way so McGee would be the in. The group was made up of mostly husbands whose wives had big careers in the Navy.

While Y/N went to the base to train pilots, McGee did some digging on their neighbors. A little after noon, he decided to go to the hardware store. He walked through the aisles, grabbing the things from the list Gibbs gave him. His phone rang the same time it does every day.

"Hey, you," he answered it.

"Hi, honey," Y/N said sweetly. "How's your day going?"

"Oh, it's great," McGee laughed. "I'm at the hardware store now."

"Good," Y/N chuckled. "Gibbs will smack the back of your head if you forget anything."

"I'm terrified I'm gonna get the wrong wood or finish," McGee admitted. "I still don't get why you want the house fixed. We're not staying long."

"I don't care if the house is. . .Oh," Y/N said, her voice dropping. "If there's a neighbor nearby, try to talk but act as if I interrupted."

"I don't want the roof to cave in either, honey, but. . . We're not. . ."

"I think it's time to get your invite into the group," Y/N said. "Act as if I just told you I have to stay late. Be upset about it."

"Again?" McGee played along. "This is the third time this week, Emily."

"Wow," she chuckled. "Way to point out how many times I've been late. That's evil, McGee."

"Do you have to stay late?"

"What? My job isn't important?" Y/N laughed as she began to play along.

"I'm not saying your job isn't important, Emily," McGee sighed. "But we haven't had dinner together in what feels like months."

"I'm going to stay on the Navy base tonight. I'll run by NCIS and have Abby set things up. I'll be home early tomorrow," Y/N told McGee her plan. "We should move up our final act."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Having it go down when I get back after a night I don't come home can lead to a natural fight between husband and wife. That will draw the attention of the others."

"Whatever you say," McGee said. "Just be safe, okay?"

"You too, Tim," Y/N said, her voice soft.

"Call me when you're. . ." McGee sighed like Y/N had hung up on him midsentence even though he said it after she hung up. "Love you too," he mumbled as he hung up.

"Everything okay, Kyle?"

McGee looked up to see Tyler Nelson, the neighbor they waved to this morning, walking over.

"Yeah," McGee said, clearing his throat. "Emily is stuck at work. Again."

"She stuck at work a lot?" Tyler fished.

"Occasionally," McGee shrugged. "The group of pilots she's training have a mission in a few weeks. According to her, they aren't close to being able to succeed. She's just trying to make sure they make it home alive."

"Still," Tyler shrugged. "You're her husband. She should be there for you too."

"I'm proud of my wife, Tyler," McGee said a little too harshly.

"Supportive but tired husband, McGee," Gibbs reminded.

"But if I'm being honest," McGee continued calmer, "it's getting tough. I know she loves her job. She's good at it. I've seen her in training and I've seen the pilots she's trained. She's good. But. . ."

"But what about you?" Tyler asked.

"Can I be honest about something that will make me sound like a horrible American?"

"Of course," Tyler said, his voice sounding more eager. "I've probably said it too."

"Really?" McGee asked. He cleared his throat and looked around before saying, "Sometimes I hate Emily's job. And sometimes I hate the Navy for taking my wife away from me."

Tyler put his hand on McGee's shoulder and smiled softly. "It's perfectly okay to feel that way, Kyle. I have felt like that time and time again."

He patted McGee on the shoulder before walking away. Once it was clear, McGee took out his phone and sent Y/N one text.

We're in. Tomorrow is a go.

* * * * *

McGee walked out of their undercover house as Y/N's car pulled into their driveway. McGee could see Tyler Nelson watching from his kitchen window.

Y/N wasn't confused when she saw McGee in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. She got out of her car and instantly started to play along.

"What's with the glare?" She asked, not moving away from her car. "Come on, Kyle. It's not like I was at work all night and didn't call you."

"That's not the point, Emily," McGee said, unable to stop himself from glancing at the car. She needed to move. He needed to get her to move.

"Look," Y/N sighed, "I know that I've been working a lot. Their mission is almost over."

When she still hadn't moved closer, McGee decided to walk over to her. He had to move her away from the car.

"Once it is," Y/N continued, "I will request some time off."

"I've heard that before," McGee sighed.

"What if," Y/N smirked as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I told you this time it would be different?"

"I've heard that before too," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned in and whispered, "We need to move, Y/N."

"Not yet," she whispered back.

"But. . ."

"It needs to look good, Tim."

"That doesn't mean you need to get hurt, Y/N."

The two pulled apart and it was then that Y/N saw how nervous McGee was. She sent him a smile to try and calm him down. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"How about I make us breakfast?" She offered. They were three steps away from the car when it blew. The blast knocked them off their feet. In order for their plan to work, Y/N needed to be knocked out by the blast.

"Emily?" McGee said, making sure his voice was full of panic. He sat up and pulled Y/N into his chest. He ran his finger through her hair as he tried to get her to wake up. "Emily? Come on, baby. Open your eyes."

"Kyle? Emily? Are you two alright?"

McGee looked to see Tyler Nelson running across the street.

"Tyler, call 911!" McGee turned back to Y/N. "It worked," he said under his breath.

"It worked a little too well," Y/N said through a painful gasp. McGee looked down to see a piece of shrapnel in Y/N's side.

"Your cover is rock-solid," he started to stutter. "We'll get you to the hospital and they will call in NCIS. Vance will send Gibbs. I can handle the rest."

"No," she gasped in pain. "You can't do this alone."

"Tyler Nelson has something to do with all this," he whispered as he gently held her face in his hand. "He's interested in me. This explosion is going to make him come talk to me. I know it. You can stay in the hospital until you're better."

"But Tim. . ."

McGee leaned down and kissed her. He broke the kiss and kept his forehead pressed to hers as he whispered, "I'll be fine."

* * * * *

McGee and Y/N were taken to the hospital. As soon as they got there, Y/N was taken into surgery. McGee waited until Gibbs and DiNozzo came running into the waiting room.

"I thought we told you two to get far from the blast," Gibbs said.

"I tried to get her to move," McGee sighed. "Y/N thought it would be more convincing."

"If what?" DiNozzo scoffed. "She got killed?"

Gibbs instantly slapped the back of his head. "It worked," Gibbs said. "Besides, she's going to be fine."

"Mr. Kingston?"

McGee looked to see a doctor walking over. He jumped up and met him halfway.

"How is she?" He asked.

"Your wife is extremely lucky," the doctor said gently. "There was only one large piece of shrapnel in her side. It didn't hit any of her vital organs. We got it out and sewed her up. We want to keep her here for a couple of days to make sure she doesn't get any mercury poisoning in her blood from the shrapnel."

"Can I see her?" McGee asked.

"Of course," the doctor smiled. "We are settling her into a room now. When she's there, a nurse will come get you."

"Thank you."

McGee turned toward Gibbs, his stomach still in knots. "I'm sorry, boss," he whispered. "I tried to get her away from the car but. . ."

"This wasn't your fault, Tim," Gibbs tried to reassure him.

"Kyle!"

McGee turned to see Tyler Nelson running over. "Are you kidding me?" Tyler scoffed when he saw the NCIS agents talking to McGee. "His wife is fighting for her life and you're already bothering him with pointless questions?"

"It's fine, Tyler," McGee stopped him. "They're NCIS."

"I know who they are," Tyler practically spat at them. He sent Gibbs and DiNozzo one more glare before turning toward McGee. "How is Emily?"

"She's going to be okay," McGee sighed. "They're moving her into a room now. I can see her soon."

McGee walked over and sat in a chair. He put his head in his hands and stayed there.

"We can come back later," Gibbs said, sending Tyler a look before he and DiNozzo left. Once they were gone, Tyler walked over to McGee and sat next to him.

"You okay?"

"No!" McGee said honestly. He stood up and started pacing. "This explosion wasn't an accident. This had something to do with her damn job. Emily has sworn her life to protect the Navy and her country. And how do they repay her?! She gets blown up outside our home!"

To sell the part, McGee kicked a chair over. Tyler calmly walked over and to McGee and lowered his voice.

"What if I told you there was a way to make them pay for this?" He asked, his voice low.

"What are you talking about?"

"What if I told you, you could take things into your own hands and make them pay for not taking care of your Emily?"

* * * * *

A few days later, McGee and the team had successfully taken down the entire terrorist cell. While they arrested everyone involved, Y/N was still in the hospital. The piece of shrapnel that had gotten stuck in her side gave her a mild case of mercury poisoning. Luckily, the doctors caught it before they couldn't reverse it. It took a lot of medication, but they eventually successfully got all the mercury out of Y/N's system.

Y/N woke up to a steady beeping.

"Y/N?" Someone softly gasped next to her. She turned her head to see McGee scooting his chair closer to her bed.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft. "Is the house still standing?"

"Sadly, no," McGee smiled. "We need to move, my dear Emily. Half the neighborhood was arrested. I told you we should've kept looking."

"You got everybody?" Y/N asked, no longer playing along. McGee reached forward and moved some hair out of her face.

He kept his hand on her face and nodded. "The entire cell is gone, Y/N."

"You did it," she smiled weakly.

"We did it," McGee corrected.

"All I did was get blown up," Y/N tried to laugh.

"It was your idea and it worked. When you were in surgery, Tyler came to the hospital and told me all about their group." He stopped talking when he saw how tired she was. "You should get some rest," he said, his voice dropping. "We can debrief later."

Y/N quickly grabbed his hand when she thought he was going to leave. "My husband is allowed to stay past visiting hours," she said, her voice breaking.

"I don't have to play your husband," he started to say but stopped himself. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. Y/N grabbed his face and brought his lips down to hers. He smiled as he deepened the kiss. When he broke it, their faces were inches apart.

"We don't have to play pretend anymore. At least. . . I don't want to. I want this to be real, Tim," Y/N said, tears filling her eyes and her voice breaking.

"So do I," he whispered. He leaned in and kissed her again. This time, when they broke apart, she was smiling.

"I'm so glad Gibbs made you my Undercover Husband and not DiNozzo," Y/N said with a small giggle.

"Believe me," McGee chuckled, "I wouldn't have allowed it."

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

↳001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy married his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. ‘King Steve’ is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke okay i think i tagged everybody

10/23/2024 -- @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland just updating the tag list :))

[wokecipher]

p. 1 // p. 2

After Weirdmageddon.

This is LONG so I'm just leaving it ALL under the line!

MORE ART AND LORE VVV

Things went bad. Like I mentioned in my previous post, Tony takes over and Anthony is put into hiding. Once Anthony comes back out, Tony is an adult and they are still a child.

Ann (Anthony's nickname) slowly grows up with Tony taking care of them. They're scared, alone, don't know what happened with Bill, and Tony is different now, not in a good way. Tony has been ruling over the Nightmare Realm (he's decided to ignore the threat of erasure for now, a rather horrible decision, but you do you I guess) for almost a decade. Not much time for the henchmaniacs or residents, but a long time for both of the twins.

Tony quickly shields Ann from the worst of it while Ann grows up, but is incredibly verbally abusive, alongside minorly physically abusive. Once Anthony is "old enough", Tony starts using them for help with "keeping everyone in line" and soon enough, Ann is doing all of Tony's dirty work.

Anthony is easy to keep on a leash, they're so scared of Tony rejecting them, they'll tolerate doing things for him even if it means hurting other people. Tony uses threats of abandoning Anthony often to keep them in line, too.

This goes on for millions of years, time starts losing meaning and both twins are also slowly losing their sanity and morals. The threat of the Nightmare Realm being erased is slowly feeling more an more real. It was billions of years off, originally, why should two kids care about that? That's unfathomably far away! But time passes, and that window starts closing faster and faster.

Tony is unconcerned, Anthony is terrified.

Tony refuses to do anything about it, Anthony is frantically searching for a solution.

And meanwhile, Tony is getting worse, she thinks power is the only meaning of existence, she's continuously horrible to everyone around her. Tony knew people wanted her dead, gone, but she never really expected her own sibling to turn on her.

Anthony attempts to assassinate Tony. The two get into a nasty fight, which ends in Tony dead and Anthony scarred. Anthony is left alone without the only person they'd learned to rely on for so long, and it leaves them near non functional.

They could not handle the things they had done for Tony, the things Tony had done to them, and now, what they had done to Tony.

They were haunted by this, horrified and shocked. They had to do what they did, they had to. Tony was making everything worse, hurting everyone, what was Ann supposed to do?

This is when The Axolotl finally presented themself to Anthony, with an irresistible deal too. All their crimes can be washed away if one day, Ann calls upon them. Anthony takes the deal, scared, alone, unknowing. and The Axolotl is pleased, and leaves Anthony to their own.

Anthony spends the next few hundred years sulking and minorly attempting to save the Nightmare Realm, these efforts are in vain however, and they eventually die one way or another. Maybe assassination, maybe the Nightmare Realm finally erases itself, maybe something worse.

It doesn't particularly matter how it happened, but it did, eventually, happen.

And they, alike to their father before them, was sentenced to a life in the Theraprism, making up for their crimes and misdeeds. Unlike their father, they will change, they will get better, they will improve.

They will be reincaranted.

I still do not know if the two will even be aware the other is there, I'll leave that to readers interpretation. If Bill knows Anthony is there, if Anthony knows Bill is there... if either meet? That's up to you!

Here's some extra art for your travels, friend.

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Notes: Angel is the team's nickname for their assistants, not just Bucky and Radar.

As always I've tried to keep reader generic but she is female and above average height.

Chapter 3

Warnings: swearing, marijuana use, angst

When they landed Radar stalked off the jet, with a slight hitch on her left side, to find Steve. Friday directed her to the common room, Bucky was not far behind her.

When she saw Steve, watching some war movie, Radar stood in his way.

"I need a moment of your time, Rogers."

Steve looked up at her in surprise "Oh hey Radar, I didn't know you guys were back."

She glared at him "Yeah, we're back. Your little friend threw one of his fucking knives at me today and cut me. Would you please tell him to stop trying to kill me."

Bucky scoffed "Kill you? Seriously? Don't be so melodramatic. I nicked you, it barely bled."

She got up in Bucky's face, at just under 6 feet and with boots on she was almost eye level, and poked him in the chest

"I know you have good enough aim that you could have gotten him without hitting me at all. Don't pull that shit again Barnes."

Radar tried to pivot and walk away but her back was still angry from that asshole in the quinjet jerking her around and decided it was the perfect time to seize up. She cried out in pain as she almost hit the floor but was caught by a pair of strong arms. Once the pain passed, she realized whose arms were holding her up and tried to push him away from her.

"Get off of me!"

Bucky chuckled dryly "Jesus doll, I'm trying to help and you're gonna make your back even worse. Just calm down."

Radar was even more mad that he was right, he had seen her go through it too many times while they were together. But his skin felt like it burned her. His warmth, his scent, she couldn't stand it. "I'm not your fucking doll, Barnes. Now let me go. I'd rather crawl over broken glass than accept help from you."

Steve chuckled nervously "Here, I'll help you to medical, Radar."

She shook her head "I don't need to go to medical. I have ice, heating pad, a tens unit, mineral ice and pain meds. Everything I could need. All in my room." She carefully straightened up and took a couple of tentative steps "I'll be fine on my own. I'll have Friday help with my report." She walked away very slowly and carefully with her left hand on the wall, while favoring her left side more heavily than when she came in.

Bucky looked at Steve and shook his head "She's just as stubborn as ever."

Steve looked at him with his dad face

"We both know she's right. You didn't have to cut her."

"Seriously punk? He had her head right in front of his and his trigger finger was twitchy. Couldn't wait for a better shot."

Steve rolled his eyes "No one here is gonna buy your bullshit, jerk. Try not to antagonize her too much."

Bucky shrugged with a 'who me?' look on his face and headed towards his room to shower before going back to the common room to meet his date.

Radar was in the kitchen in shorts and a tank top, making herself a smoothie when a gorgeous blonde woman, dressed for clubbing walked in "Excuse me miss, can you tell me where to find Sargent Barnes?"

Radar looked at her and shrugged "Sorry, no."

Bucky hurried up and kissed the blonde on the cheek "Hey there sweets. Hope you weren't waiting long."

The blonde smiled "No, I just got here and was asking, I'm sorry I didn't get her name."

Bucky laughed "Don't worry, she's just support staff. No one important." And led the blonde away.

Radar refused to watch them leave, refused to let her face show anything as she forgot about her smoothie and went back to her room. She ran a hot shower so the running water would cover the sound of her sobs.

Over the next 2 months life settled into a regular pattern...missions, reports, scheduling, interviews and Bucky's women of the week.

Bucky's life was much more organized with Radar handling all of his work needs. His gear was always clean and ready to go, his reports were complete, legible and on time, his schedule was organized so that he wasn't missing appointments or interviews. Best of all his public approval was through the roof, almost equal to Sam.

Radar only went along with a couple more missions but handled most from her laptop in the compound situation room. She spent her spare time in the common room or her own room. Plus 3 days a week she had 2 hours in the gym with physical therapy and exercises to strengthen her back.

Bucky used the free time that Radars assistance cleared up for him to add more women to his roster. There was almost always some scantily clad woman waiting for him at the end of each work day and when he returned from missions.

Bucky would never admit it but he was still trying to get a rise out of Radar and her refusal to cooperate frustrated him.

When one of his dates tried to talk to her, she always shrugged and said she didn't know where he was. If she said anything at all.

Radar had already started looking for her replacement and one of the candidates came in at the same time as Bucky's date for that nite.

Radar shrugged at the woman and walked past her to greet the man before leading him towards her office.

Bucky kissed his date on the cheek as he watched Radar walk away with a strange man in a suit. He looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow, to which Sam only shrugged and chuckled.

While on his date, Bucky couldn't get Radar and that guy out of his mind. He wondered what they were doing and why all of a sudden she had men coming to see her. He was jolted from his thoughts when his date tapped his shoulder and he focused on her.

"Are you ok Bucky? You seem a million miles away and I didn't come out to watch you daydream. It was about that bitch at your compound, wasn't it? I saw how you stared at her when she walked away with that guy in the suit. Why ask me out if you want to be with her?"

Bucky snapped, raising his voice "Don't call her a bitch"

She pulled back "Why are you yelling at me?" She whined "Maybe you should take me home and go be with her."

Bucky shook his head "What? No, no sweets, she's just my assistant, no one important."

It made his heart hurt to say that but he didn't know what else to say to salvage the date.

"I'm right here with you. So tell me about that photo shoot."

He worked very hard to push any thoughts of Radar out but hearing Ashley drone on about some beach shoot was boring him to sleep.

After the interview Radar went to meet with Nat and Wanda for a girls movie night. Once they settled into Wandas bed, they started arguing over what movie to watch.

Radar sighed "I hate some of these romcoms you guys watch. Why not some good sci-fi?"

Wanda gasped "Sci-fi? On girls night? No, I want romance."

Radar rolled her eyes "Fine, I'll just get high first so it'll be entertaining."

Nat nodded "Now a good idea is a good idea." Her phone dinged "Pizza dude's here!"

As they started eating Nat spoke with a full mouth "So how was the interview? Is he the one?"

Radar laughed "Ohmigawd, Nat. He was so, ugh, full of himself. His and Barnes heads wouldn't both fit in one room together. Kept calling me 'little lady' like he thought it was charming." She shrugged

"He was the first and it might take a bit to find a good one, then-"

Wanda shook her head "Bucky has the perfect Angel right now and you're getting along with each other. Why can't you stay?"

Radar looked at her hands sadly "And watch Barnes fuck his way thru the Northeast? I don't think I'm up for that. We're getting along because we don't speak to each other unless it's work related. That won't last if I stay."

"Radar, you know he still loves you." Wanda insisted.

Radar looked at her "I don't know any such thing. Have you seen the women he's been meeting with? They are all beautiful, slim, sexy and look like they stepped off of a runway. I don't look anything like that so obviously I'm not his type. Plus he's parading them around in front of me, made sure to tell a couple of them in hearing range, that I'm no one important. Making sure I know what I mean to him. Nothing. I'll find the right person for the job." She sighed

"Just put the movie on, I don't want to talk about this."

She hit her vape and passed it to Nat.

Nat took her hit and passed it to Wanda before speaking "We should go shopping tomorrow. The 4th is coming up and Tony will always love embarrassing Steve with over the top celebrations. He has something planned for sure."

They agreed on shopping plans, then sat back to watch the movie Wanda picked, chatting about how unrealistic the plot was and how the leads had no chemistry.

The next morning Radar and Wanda made french toast for the team and while everyone was eating Tony wandered in to get some coffee, still in yesterdays clothes.

"What smells so good?" Tony sniffed the air.

"French toast, bacon. You want some?" Radar answered.

Tony nodded and she put 2 pieces of toast on a plate with some bacon and handed it to him.

Tony sat at the table and after he had eaten a few bites of food, cleared his throat and when everyone was looking his way spoke up

"I was just thinking that it's been so nice the past couple of months, no lost or dirty gear, reports all in and on time. No flubbed missions. Interviews and meetings all handled. It's almost like we have an Angel keeping her eyes on us."

He smirked at Bucky who rolled his eyes "Besides all that, Rogers birthday is coming up so I actually already planned a party. On the 4th. We'll have a picnic with bbq, fireworks, pony rides, water slides, stupid carnival rides and games. The whole shebang."

He finished eating, nodded and stood up to wander back to his lab, mumbling.

When she woke up on the 4th, Radar drank coffee while watching the activity from her balcony. Workers setting up all of the activities and a row of carnival games, some rides, a covered, netted area with picnic tables. The glass walls for the pool room opened up to the lawn and a bandstand was built for the live band Tony hired. Red, white and blue streamers & bunting hung from every thing that didn't move.

The Guardians were there, the Marvels showed and even a few X-Men.

Thor and Loki came from New Asgard to join in the celebration, arriving after sunset, shortly before the fireworks were scheduled to start.

When they saw her, Radar was swept up in a hug from Thor while Loki waited to plant a kiss on the back of her hand before dragging her off to a wooded area.

"Loki! Where are we going? We're gonna miss the fireworks!"

Loki grinned "Trust me, love. I have something I thought you might like and it will make the little light show Stark has planned even better. I recalled you mentioned your fondness for the Cannabis plant when I saw that our ambrosia plants were being harvested."

He pulled a small bag out of the air and grinned at her

"Like our mead, this is stronger than what you're accustomed to so be careful."

Radar laughed and Bucky could hear it from where he was standing after watching her walk into the woods with Loki. He was ready to break something, thinking of her and Loki alone in the woods, when he smelled something sweet but musky and realized what they were doing. She always told him that real stoners share so he wandered to where they were and cleared his throat.

Radar was blowing out her first hit and jumped when she heard Bucky, choked and coughed then held the joint out to him, giggling.

Bucky smirked and took a deep hit, believing he would be fine because he tried reefer with her a couple of times and it never affected him. He passed the joint to Loki and it went around a couple more times before Loki put it away.

Radar was laughing at some magic trick Loki was trying to do but he kept laughing himself and forgetting the next step for his trick before giving up and sitting heavily onto a lounge chair next to her. "I'm sorry, love, but your laughter is distracting." He leaned into her like he was going to-.

Bucky pushed him aside and laughed when Loki fell over, making Loki and Radar laugh too. They calmed down and walked over to the seating area to watch the show when an alarm started blaring and all the lights turned red.

Bucky grabbed Radar "Go get my kit and meet me by the pool. Hurry!"

Radar went around the carnival area to a hidden entrance into the main building, watching as the wave of Hydra agents went through fighting Avengers and destroying everything in their path. She zoned out watching the fighting like a great action movie before remembering what she was supposed to be doing and shook it off.

She hurried to the armory, grabbed his kit and almost ran into Bucky by the pool where he had set up a sort of foxhole, with furniture and sandbags, and was barking orders to the Avengers he had been able to round up. Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Scott, Hope and Cassie.

They started picking up the kids and family members of the Avengers agents to take them to a bunker that Howard Stark had built during the cold war.

Radar and Bucky stayed in the foxhole. Bucky was shooting Hydra agents while Radar had his kit open and handed ammo and/or new guns as he depleted what he had.

It took a couple of hours but the Avengers finally prevailed with the help of the rest of the X-Men and the Fantastic Four. All the Hydra agents were loaded up into prison busses and taken to a SHIELD/SWORD holding area while the govt figured out what made them decide to mount a full attack on the Avengers compound.

Once they were cleared, the bunker was opened so the families could come back out and be escorted home to ensure everyone was safe.

Radar was helping Bucky pack his weapons up when he grinned at her, still feeling pretty lit. "Good job, Doll. We make a good team."

Radar was also still buzzed from Loki's weed so instead of bitching at him she just smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

Nat and Wanda came over to make sure Radar was ok, thanked Bucky for keeping her safe and all three ladies walked back towards the building, ready to crash.

Bucky stood and watched Radar walk away with a goofy grin on his face. Once she was out of sight he remembered something important that he should have told her, so picked up his phone and dialed her number. It rang 4 times and went to voicemail

"Hey Doll, it's your Bucky. I'm not just saying this because I'm high but you were perfect tonight. Having you by my side feels like coming home. You know I never stopped loving you."

Bucky heard a beep and dropped his phone back into his pocket.

In a communications room in a building in Manhatten, listening to his message the agent smiled, looking at their partner

"Did you hear that? He still loves her. The Winter Soldier has a weak spot. We need to get this news to the boss."

"What about the message?"

"Just delete it."

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan @cjand10

Chapter 4

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Oh what about a cheating smut fic where tony is married to pepper and he starts to have a sexual affair towards his daughter morgan's hot babysitter, reader

Babygirl

Friday, 4pm

I check the time on my dainty Cartier watch, walkin in circles around my squad as I zero in on every move, every flip, and every damn high kick. They're phenomal as ever, still I need to make sure we're on point for the next game. Squatting low, I assess how one of my girls back up and shows that flexibility by bending backwards with palms outstretched to the ground. She ends the number with a smooth sensual backflip into the splits, ofcourse poppin each ass cheek individually. I cheer and ofcourse give my girl, along with the crew, a standin ovation.

"Excellent muthafukin job per usual, owwwww!" I mimick my bitch Cardi and I clap for my amazing team.

My cell rings from the bleachers a few feet away. Im tired, plus that might be Mr. Stark and I know better than to ignore; it's definitely time to call it a day.

"Listen up my beautiful people, we done for the day. But, side note, please don't forget to team up with your cheer buddy as many times as needed before the game to make sure each of you got the routine down pact. If you have any questions, hit my line. Aight y'all."

A few hugs goodbye and smacks to my rear, I'm able to grab my phone and check my missed calls. Fuck.. The butterflies in my tummy are instantaneous as I read 'Tony Stark' across my screen. No matter how many times he calls it never fails to make me wanna squeal and do a few back flips of my own.

I hit the send button and redial him as I chew on my bottom lip nervously. It only does half a ring before his sexy voice speaks through the phone.

"Hey, there's my other favorite girl. Where are you? You busy?"

It's just like Tony to be all in my business, even though he was my employer, not father. There wasn't a thing he didn't know about me after being Morgan's babysitter for over 3 years now.

"Why no, Daddy, I'm not busy." I tease him with a giggle. "I'm at uni right now. Just finished practice. Why, wassup?"

The silence lastin just a second too long before he clears his throat and answers.

"You uh.. Just finished cheer practice?" He repeats slowly.

"Yeah, literally just a second ago. Gonna change and head home. Why, you need me?" I ask concerned.

"I do honey, need you to come watch Morgan for the weekend. Peppers outta town for business and I'll be here but not here. You available for me pretty girl?"

The way he speaks to makes my heart wanna dive out my damn chest, especially when his wife's not around. His already pampering nature amplifies he and doesn't seem to able to resist calling me those sweet lil nicknames that make me weak in the knees.

"Yes Mr. Stark. Always, anything for you." I breathe back, thighs clenching at the way the tone of his voice is starting to get me aroused.

"Perfect. And call me Tony, you know better honey." He gently scolds. "Anyway, I'm sending a car to come get you immediately."

I hear him snap his fingers over the phone and assume that's his way of sending me a ride.

"But I'll need to go home and grab a some things to stay for a few days." I remind him.

"No. I want you here as soon as possible. I already have someone on their way to you." His response leaves no room for argument, so I don't even bother.

"Ok then, catch you inna minute. And tell Morgan I can wait to see her."

"You got it babygirl. See you soon."

I hang up, grabbing my Nike backpack and head to the pick up area in front of the school. Fuck, another weekend with Tony Stark. Let's see how long it takes before I drench my panties when I get in his presence this time.

45 mins later

I arrive to Tony's mansion relieved to finally get to see my 2 favorite people in the world. They're waiting for me at the front door with big smiles, Tony holding Morgan on his back. She lightly kicks outwards to get free from her father. He happily sets her down and she runs up to me excitedly wearing the cutest ladybug bathing suit. Wrapping her tiny arms around my waist, she hugs me affectionately. I bend and hug her back just as tight and tell her how happy I am to see her.

"Daddy says your staying all weekend, is that true?" She inquires, nose scrunched making her the spitting image of her father.

"Yes, I am. Us girls are gonna have a blast. I was thinking tomorrow I could paint your nails and then maybe you could paint mine? I'd love your help picking out a cute color, what do ya think?"

"Let's just go get a manicure." She rebuttals smartly, taking my hand and dragging me to the front door. I barely have a second to grab my backpack!

"Or there's that." I laugh and wave goodbye to Tony's driver as Morgan pulls me past her father to the pool.

"Guess Daddy will catch you guys later." Tony chuckles, watching us amused.

"Guess so Daddy." I don't get a chance to catch the way his nostrils flare a bit or how he licks his lips at my statement as he watches his daughter steer me away.

Her and I have a blast in the pool for a couple hours, Morgan even more so as I sit on the edge with just my feet in. She shows me how well she's gotten a swimming since the last time we saw each other. It's beyond obvious her practice is paying off; my best lil buds gonna be ready for competitions in no time.

After, Tony brings us hot cheesy pizza for dinner as she grabs his laptop and shows me how to do the newest tik tok dance challenges that she and her friends like the most. We lay by the pool eat and laugh together as all the goofy and cool new trends come up. It just surprises me that a young girl can navigate the platform so efficiently. The smartie pants even makes me an account so I can keep up with what she's up to.

"Alright, little girl. Its 7:30, time to go to sleep. We'll do a bath in the morning. Go brush your teeth and get into your pjs. Daddy and I'll be by to say goodnight when your done."

The good girl that Morgan is, she kisses my cheek and skips off into the house. I quickly clean up our mess and head off to search for Tony.

When I find him it's 7:45 and he's laid out on the couch in one of his dens, arm thrown tiredly over his face. I think he's asleep from his even breaths, the calm rise and fall of his athletic bare chest. Fuck he makes my mouth water the way he lays with his legs spread wide, wearing only a pair of soft cotton light grey sweats low on his hips. His toned tummy and the thin line of his happy trail entice me to come closer for a better look and I'm right behind him in an instant. Goddam the bulge of his cock looks girthy as fuck.

I reach out and lightly massage at his shoulders, bending for just a moment to whisper at his ear.

"Its time for Daddy to go say goodnight."

Tony removes his arm and gazes up at me tiredly. The short low groan helps activate the already swirling storm in my gut. There's no way my panties aren't wet.

"Ok, honey. Let's go." Sitting up a few inches before pausing as Jarvis begins to speak.

"Actually Mr. Stark, Morgan has been asleep for 3 minutes 26 seconds. I predict she will not be awake for another 10 and a half hours sir."

"Thanks." Daddy relaxes into my touch again before speaking again.

"Hey Jarvis?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Take a walk."

"Yes sir."

There's a quiet beep signaling the AI's exit as I continue to massage Tony's strong shoulders.

"Come here, beautiful. Come sit on Daddy's lap, let's talk." He requests gently.

I know we've been crossing some kinda boundary the way we speak to one another, but if I do as he asks this'll be a clear violation in his marriage. I don't wanna cause harm to Tony in any way, in fact I ache to make him happy however I can. That desire in itself is probably what has me toeing of my shoes and plopping my round ass cheeks right on his dick before I have another thought.

He's half hard and I'm baffled how I didn't notice because he's already so thick. The first press of my pussy against it has me biting my lip and pushin again and again to mimic the pressure on my clit. My breath puffs out as I hold back a moan at the feeling. Christ, I'm throbbing in need and I've sittin in his lap for a total of 5 seconds.

"Did my 2 favorite girls have fun?" Tony asks seemingly unaffected..

Except when i squint it seems his breath accelerates just a bit through his slightly open mouth, warm strong chest rising and falling just a fraction faster. His palms slide underneath my skirt to the top of my thighs, tenderly rubbing in a circular motion as I lightly hump at his cock.

"So much fun, Daddy. I'm kinda tired though, long day. Obviously not long as yours. You look exhausted. You ok?"

He only tilts his head and offers a small shrug.

"I kinda feel better now that I get to see my little cheer captain in her sexy uniform." Tony leers up at me with a smirk before winkin, making me bust out in laughter.

"So how's classes sweetheart? You doin okay?"

"I am, first semester was a bit difficult but I got the ropes now. I'm a fuckin superstar." I brag with a smile.

"That's great honey, glad to hear it." He replies warmly, rotating his hips in circles against me.

"Still don't ever forget that I gotta blank check with your name on it. Matter fact, you're not leavin here this weekend without it. Got it?" He asks sternly, lookin directly into my soul.

"Yes Daddy." I answer without a second thought.

"Good girl." He praises, moaning low in his throat at my swift movements.

"Well.." I lean forward till our lips are almost touching and look deep into his pretty eyes. "What can I do to make Daddy feel better?"

Tony breaks first. He roughly presses his lips to mine, sucking and kissing as he holds me in place with one hand on the back of head. The other hand grips my thigh firmly as he dominates our kiss passionately. His fine ass licks into my mouth while groaning, sucking on the tip of my tongue as I moan loud and frantically crush our pelvis' together. He gives me one nip to my lips before speaking against them.

"Make Daddy cum, sweetheart."

"How?" I ask nervously, pulling back to look into his hazy eyes.

"Any way you want gorgeous."

My hips come to a halt as I think for a moment before sliding off his lap to my knees and greedily soakin in the growl he emits when he notices the wet spot I left on his crotch.

Pulling my medium sized perky tits through the designed slit at the bottom of my cheer top, showing him stiff pierced nipples. A small slim chain hangs between my breasts, connecting the 2 piercings. I shake my titties at him, smiling at his hypnotized glazed stare at my supple chest.

"Fuck my tits." I demand, slightly dipping my head forward to let a generous glob of spit splat between them.

There's no need to ask twice as Tony hastily snatches his dick from his sweats and slides it between my round brown orbs. He relaxes back into the deep navy blue sectional while I press my breasts together to surround his thick shaft and begin with slow strokes. Biting those delicious lips, his head dips further into the couch as he watches me through slits. Daddy looks so fucking good as he fights the pleasure enveloping his dick.

"Hoooooh, fu- AH! Jesus y/n, feels so good. Thank you, pretty girl. Ohfuck! Just what I needed. Mmmm.. Yeah, yeah just like thaaat.."

His arms hang limp at his sides as he lets me unravel him. Poor baby, his eyes don't know where to look, darting from my dark nipples to his big fat dick stabbing up through the swell of my breasts. I take a mental picture of the way he loses his mind in my body, hips coming up erratically to meet my downward thrusts.

"You like slipping your fat cock between my titties, Daddy?" I ask innocently, squeezing his dick a bit more firmly.

"Ah, ah, yes babygirl! N-never felt this gooood!" He sputters back to me.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself. Though the other option was to lay on my back, spread open my legs and wet little pussy to you. Let you be the judge of which hole of mine you wanted.. first.."

I speed up my slippery tits, fucking his twitching cock from base to tip at a quick steady pace. The spit turned out to be the perfect lubricate as he easily plunges his dick between my tits.

"Oh fuck little girl, so goddamn perfect for me- haaaashit! Ahhaaaa, fuck! Ohmyfuckinggod y/n want that so bad. N-need to fuck every inch of you honey.."

His hands ball into fists as he widens his stance, giving me ample room to work. Those gorgeous eyes roll back into his head as he gasps at the sensation building in his groin.

"Yes, yes, yes! Please! Letmefuckyouhoney! P-please, need to cum y/n. Aaaaaaahfuuuuuck! Haven't cum in months. Pleasepleaseplease, will do anything sweetheart!"

Now completely understanding Tony's absolute desperation, my cunt flutters as his pleas to feel my pussy double and rise in volume. I slam my tits onto his dick repeatedly, loud wet smacking intermixed with his sobs.

"How long Daddy? Exactly how long since you sprayed your thick milky cream outta this big fat ass cock?" I ask, leaning to give kitten licks to the wide flushed tip.

I moan animatedly at the taste of the salty precum dripping from his leaky dick. It's so fucking addicting that I hungrily slurp on the head of his dick. His abs ripple as his body trembles through the onslaught.

"Almost a-Haaa! FUCK! Almostayeeeear! Ohshitohshit, gonna c-cum babygirl!"

Fuck that's way too damn long, so I resolve to not make him wait a second longer to fill up a wet and willing pussy.

"Yeeees ah, ah, ahhhh- wait! What the fuck?Come back here little girl!"

I giggle as I duck away from his hands swiping to pull my back towards his equally enraged dick. I scoot back on the plush white carpet, pulling off my squort and parting my shapely cocoa thighs. He's so immediately entranced at me spreading my pussy lips with one hand as I crook my finger and invite him over with the other.

"Oh fuck me, thank you sweetheart. Love you so much babygirl, you don't even know. Your my perfect girl, wish you were my wife instead honey."

I don't know if Tony knows he's speaking as he clumsily takes his place between my legs but the admission warms my heart.. And my pussy. I kiss his neck and hold him tight as he thanks me profusely for letting him inside.

He aims his dick at my pulsing little hole, tapping my clit twice before slipping about an inch of his dick inside. I keen at the stretch, whining and pulling at him for more but apparently that's all Daddy needs. Slamming his eyes shut, he hunches over me going completely feral and unloads months and months worth of frustration into me.

"Yea-eeeees, little girl! Lemme breed my favorite girl. Haaaaa fuck! Feels like heaven, cantstophoney! Ah, ah, ah, so gooood y/n. Love you much! So so so much!"

I relish how fucking whiny he becomes as he releases heavy splats of cum against my walls. The pressure of his load makes me moan like a whore underneath him as he holds me to his carpet by my shoulders and gives us both what we need.

"That's it Daddy, fill me up. Make me take your cum. I want all of it, yeeeees! Don't waste a drop, gimme my cream pleeeeease. My wet little kitty wants to drink up a thick dose of your milk Daddy, gimme!"

The force of Tony's nut stuns him but his fluttering lid reopens as he gazes at my face. Even through his flismy focus he stares at the sloppy saliva spattered on my tits and tummy down to where his dick splits me open wide.

It's my turn to become distressed as I hump at the rock hard cock dripping the last few drops of his load into my greedy cunt. Neither of us hear the front door open in our opposite state of minds; or the footsteps clicking towards our location.

"What the fuck?!" Peppers deranged voice echoes throughout the dim den making us jumps, the cock piercin me unintentionally stabbing a few inches deeper.

I wail in fucking pure delight, nails scratching down Tony's back as he immediately seethes at her entrance. It's clear he's not happy she interrupted our private moment. Still, his dick remains stiff as fuck inside me.

Lookin up at his wife with disdain, brows still pinched from the feeling of my pussy clutching at him hungrily, he demands that she leave.

Maybe it's time for Daddy to get a divorce..

[youcouldmakealife]

Do you ever mix up names? I love your stories, but I am shit at names and as your pantheon/league grows I find myself increasingly turned around by all the north american dude names (first, last, AND hockey nicknames!!!). I can usually keep track of the on-going series names and names that are less common in North America (Kiro, Sven), but if I'm reading, say, an ask or rereading I usually have remind myself who is who first.

I don't mix them up between themselves and other characters in either a similar name way (James vs Jake, say) or roles (mixing up say, Wheels and Craney and Matty).

(This got so long and off topic, why does this always happen)

What I do mix up is sort of more of a...muscle memory thing, maybe? I'm writing the word, say, gorgeous, and I have to delete georgieous first, because my fingers apparently have become a phone's autocorrect function. I actually did write James as Jake a few times when I was deep deep in editing BTT, but again, it was just sort of like...an autofill error between my brain and my fingers.

The names themselves I'm pretty good with, though I do worry about whether I'll continue to be as a) the pantheon continues to expand (I love this by the way, and now I'm probably going to spend the rest of my evening mentally assigning characters places in the pantheon) and b) I get older. And both things seem pretty inevitable to me.

Unfortunately, the two things I appear to have in common with Leo Tolstoy are brevity and 'these people have three names, and I'm going to use them all interchangeably'. (ie Vinny is Thomas to himself, but Vinny to literally everybody else including me. And sometimes Tommy but only to Anton and his parents and only sometimes. Anton's alternately Anton, Petrov, Tony to Vinny and teammates, or Antosha to his family.)

I'd honestly apologise for it but it's one of those things that's really inextricable from the sort of...falling into a perspective way that I write, the same way I write in American English for American characters and Canadian English for Canadians, or use Christian (and specifically Catholic) references in Robbie or Georgie's POVs but never, say, Mike's or David's, unless we count Mike's very liberal usage of the word goddamn (and it's lowercase with him, but it'd be Goddamn to Robbie.)

And the different vocabularies extends to names. Like William Dineen is William to Robbie, he specifically asked to be called that when he was a teenager who wanted to feel more adult, and Robbie respected that then and continues to now. Georgie respected it in another way -- he was Willy to him, and now he uses Will, which William is fine with, but only with immediate family.

But in the text itself Georgie would never use William, because it'd feel distant to him, and Robbie would never use Will because he'd consider that disrespectful after William specifically requested to be called that, and me choosing one or the other wouldn't be in character, so he's Will and he's William, but never Willy (that's Tate Williams).

I make this all sound like a much more conscious process than it is. A lot of this stuff I've only figured out via metacognition of my writing process, which is, by necessity, done in hindsight.

My original answer to questions like 'why did you do _____ that way?' is invariably '*shrug* felt right', and people tend to find that...unsatisfying, so I often investigate further, and the answer becomes 'felt right because of <this reason I was in no way consciously aware of during the writing process>'. As I've said to my poor beleaguered editor, a lot of my writing process is 'just vibes'. I follow good vibes. Bad vibes tell me something's not working, and I adjust accordingly. I think a lot (I cannot tell you how many times I've been accused of overthinking things), but when it comes to writing, most of it's happening beyond my own perception, so instead it feels more like gut instinct. (which is, indeed, what gut instinct often boils down to: pattern recognition going on beneath one's conscious awareness)