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lokistemptress · 1 day ago

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Clint Barton & Evangeline R. Reed head cannons - the temptress

I tamed it down compared to who evie really is but she is the most sexual character if that makes sense

she and natasha grew up together, escaped together, found by shield at different times though. once they escaped together, they knew that they couldn't ever see each other again or else the red room found one, they'd find the other.

natasha of course was picked up by shield and quickly became friends with clint barton. now in my universe, clint can have his kids i won't take that from him, but he is no longer with laura anymore.

this widow specifically has been abused for her overly beautiful looks ever since she was a kid. the red room staff memebrs were all over her. her graduation ceremony ended up having to happen a lot sooner than everyone else because her main goal is: seduce & destroy

she's never quite understood the whole 'sex for pleasure' because for her, it's always been a weapon.

she's highly trained in fighting and acrobatics. although she's not physically able to birth her own children, her biggest weakness are kids and love. she envies happy families and would do anything for her own, but unfortunately there isn't any way possible for her to have kids.

I think she’d be hyper sexual, which just basically means she constantly feels the need to have sex, or has sexual urges/thoughts/feelings.

Any time they argue, it always ends with sex. Although clint tells her that they don’t need to solve everything with sex.

i think she's so chic is the strangest way. she can live without blush, highlighter, foundation, but she won't leave the house without dark red lipstick, even though dark red isn't a summer color, she still pulls it off easily.

natasha and clint were the ones to find her and bring her into the shield family. it was really sweet her reaction to finding natasha.

okay it wasn't really sweet at all. so evangeline had created a mission of her own, kill the staff members that wrong her. she wore costumes, changes parts of her appearance and did what she does best: seduce & destroy. after she killed one of the people on her target list, she was about to extract all his money from a hotel room vault when nat and clint burst in the room. for a while, evie had no fucking clue who these people were, only that they were gonna blow her cover and get them all arrested. after a short fight, and natasha doing a lot of yelling, and then clint holding her down while explaining who they were, did evie finally give up. that's when it got sweet and there were a few tears, and then natasha explained that they were taking down the red room once and for all with clint's help.

of course taking down the place she was raised would push them to become close.

even though she's basically a natasha copy and paste, she's a lot more different than natasha. she has a lot of anger issues, like bad bad. the slightest look and she's in your face shouting russian cuss words and asking if you want to take it outside. like no babe, she just likes your top.

the song 'pretty when i cry' really sticks out a lot to me for her. i think sometimes her memories overwhelm her, especially after she gets really mad. she just feels super guilty. she's huge on irish goodbyes too, and will disappear to go cry and she will not be found. but mr. barton is very observant and follows her around.

i think the way clint gets to know evie is through natasha. they'll be flying a quinjet wherever, and natasha is bored out of her mind while clint just hammers on and on about 'what does she like to eat?' 'men's tears.' 'what about a favorite song, everyone has a favorite song?' 'there's this old russian lullaby, Колыбельная.' (song's on my Wattpad I can’t find the Spotify song). 'well what does she like in a guy?' nat just scoffs. 'she likes watching them take their last breath.' clint just shrugs. sounds just like her.

i think her favorite thing, kinda terrible, was when the men she was fucking wanted to capture it on film. she's collected a whole series of her murders captured on film. now of course, looking back, she's not really proud of herself but at the moment it filled her with pride, that she could kill someone and not even blink.

now, for her sexy times with clint, we're getting straight into it. it took them the shortest period of time to have sex. everything about evie just screams sex appeal. they didn't take forever getting into a relationship, it was mostly just to pass to time, and so they didn't have to go home to an empty house when the day's over.

for sex, i think she likes roleplay. wearing cute little outfits, acting like a different person kinda helps her escape who she sees herself as, and if she pretends to be a different person, maybe clint won't see all the bad in her like she does.

two of her biggest fears are spiders and drowning, there is no correlation or really any real reason as to why, she's just always hated spiders, and the thought of drowning, realizing she was about to die, seemed like her own personal hell.

she has a real rbf. i think people can even confused her 'relaxed' facial features for her being tired, but no she's just like that.

when clint first started hinting that he was interested in her, she probably punched him. 'how am i supposed to know if you like me, when my whole life is about seduction?' it was probably hard for clint to even explain it to evie, cause of course she's gorgeous. of course she screams sex appeal, of course she's the hottest person he's ever seen, but there is so much more to her than just sex.

Of course he had to teach that to her

during mission's, they form a little trio when they're all available, evie, clint, and nat. aww wait they're all adorable together. of course, the first thing that evie had asked when natasha found her was 'where's yelena?' but with a glare from nat to clint, she knew not to bring up her only other friend in the world ever again.

unfortunately nat dying was the worst day of everyone's lives. evie had gone off with a different group, although she didn't want to, she knew she was needed elsewhere and that clint and nat would be fine on their own. when clint came back alone evie probably didn't talk to clint for weeks. every time he tried to call or text she'd ignore him. small spiral, but then she got a text from yelena to meet up and it was just clint tricking her.

i think the both of them cried a lot during that night, finally embracing it, evie apologized a lot probably for running away from him like that.

evie and clint sit in silence a lot, and she's definitely learned sign language for him. i think it can also help a lot on missions where they find themselves needing to be quiet, so they can communicate without speaking. i genuinely think sign language needs to be taught in schools everywhere but that's just my opinion.

natasha and evie both grew up needing perfect aim to succeed, so she and clint always have little feuds on who has the better aim.

i can also imagine nerf wars between them for some reason. april first is probably the worst day to be near them cause all they do is attack each other with harmless darts or surprise attacks. but they do take it very seriously.

although evie can't have kids of her own, clint had three and that's enough for her. she never tried to be a mother for them, and always tells them she's not their mother, but she's here for them anyway.

i don't think the kids would really understand her very well, but if one of the kids are being bullied, she is so going to talk to the little shit who's bothering them, the school, and the shit's parents to figure out what's wrong.

i think she's got a very good relationship with clint's daughter though. she does a lot to make sure she's comfortable in her own body, not feeling pressured by anyone, focusing on school and not boys.

i also think that sometimes she can be a little like yelena, fighting off the world through sarcasm and entertaining herself with her own thoughts. she's quick witted, kind of a smartass, and uses sarcasm as her main defense. her childhood self is brought out more because of clint.

i think the first time they ever hung out alone without there being a case or a world ending monster, magic man, or robot on the lose, they went to a park. they both are serious, but can let their childhood selves come out a lot.

i think their favorite position together is missionary. i think they play fight a lot too. she prefers being dominant and on top, but he hardly ever lets her win. he just wants to prove that he loves her more than she thinks he does.

their favorite thing to do together is sleep in or get take out and watch a movie with some wine or beer. he has three kids and hardly ever gets a day off, sleeping in is like christmas but he doesn't have to wake up early. and getting take out is just so simple. it helps evie remind herself that this is real, she is safe.

i think clint makes her feel safe too. her whole life she's been using her body as a weapon, and now she doesn't have to anymore is so strange to her. rewiring her brain to think different was hard.

Aside from clint & nat, she doesn’t really get along with anyone else. Maybe possibly Bruce and Tony cause she likes tag teaming with nat to make Bruce nervous, and Tony’s sarcasm makes her day bright up

Clint hates how well evie and Tony get along. Tony’s always teasing him about it too

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loversrocktvgirl2 · 16 hours ago

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my mini multiverse of madness…

1940s!Bucky x Reader

word count: 2.9k

You first met Bucky when you were fifteen years old. Well, perhaps met isn’t the correct word. You saw him for the first time when you were fifteen years old at a fair. He was maybe sixteen years old, a little gangly and boyish looking, but certainly handsome, and he caught your eye. There was only one issue. He was on a date.

You’d gone to the fair with some friends, but as you waited outside of the bathroom for them to come out, you watched as Bucky won a stuffed bear for some lucky girl who gave him a kiss on the cheek. You felt a bit jealous—maybe because you didn’t have a boyfriend, maybe because Bucky seemed cute and had he not been out with the girl, there was a chance you would’ve gone up to him (yeah right), or maybe a bit of both. Whatever the reason, you tried to brush it off, and went back to hanging out with your friends when they returned.

A couple of years later, you saw Bucky again. It was at a small, local diner. When you realized he was the boy from the fair, you couldn’t believe that it was him again. He’d grown up a little, like you, and it seemed to make him even more attractive over time. There was a distinct difference between the boy you’d caught a glimpse of at the fair, though. Bucky looked… sad. Bored. Annoyed. Not joyful, as he’d been at the fair. You noticed he was sitting next to a friend of his who had a girlfriend. Ah, third wheeling. Not something you were a stranger to either.

Bucky gave you that small head nod, the one you give strangers you’d like to know or acquaintances you wish you didn’t. You nodded back. He came over and sat next to you. You simply could not believe your luck. “What’s your name?” Bucky asked casually.

“Y/N,” you informed. “Yours?”

“James,” he answered politely. “Friends call me Bucky.”

“Which group do you want me in?”

“You can call me Bucky.”

“Whatcha up to, Bucky?” you asked with a soft smile, your hands gently wrapping around your Coca-cola, not sure where else to put them.

“I’m sittin’ next to a pretty girl,” Bucky answered with a soft grin and you laughed.

“Charming.”

“Is it?” Bucky challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye, and that was when you really felt yourself fall for him.

The two of you talked for hours. And even though Bucky didn’t really have all that much money, he acted like he had enough to spare to pay for your drink. Eventually, you’d been conversing for so long that his friends, who he’d originally been third-wheeling with, walked over to tell him that it was time for them all to go home. You gave Bucky your phone number. He smiled and said, “I’ll call you.” But he felt a pang in his chest knowing that he couldn’t, and so he wouldn’t, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you.

Bucky had lost his parents when he was ten. Luckily, his father’s army buddies had taken in him and his sister and raised them both on the army base. Bucky didn’t have a phone, though, and he didn’t have a way to call you. He also didn’t have money—he did what he was told to do at the army base, and he did his schoolwork, and he wasn’t working anywhere to make the money. In short, Bucky was broke, and lacking a telephone. But when he got home that night, he stared at the piece of paper you’d given him, traced the pads of his fingers over the ink, imprinting your handwriting in his brain, memorizing the number he’d never get to dial.

You waited for weeks for Bucky to call. You made excuses upon excuses for the lack of response. But eventually, you gave up. Sure, he’d been wonderful to talk to, and you definitely had some feelings for him. But if he didn’t call, he didn’t call, and there was no need to get your hopes up any longer. It still hurt though, and you felt the small bruise on your heart.

You saw Bucky again, for the third time, not much later. He was out with a friend of his and two girls, all done up in his uniform. It stung a little, even though you knew it shouldn’t have. You wanted to go up to him, but… he was the boy that never called. What was the point?

Instead, it was Bucky that walked up to you. “Y/N?” Bucky asked, a sad smile on his lips.

“How do you remember my name?” you asked, confused.

Bucky chuckled a little awkwardly to himself. “You’re kind of hard to forget.”

“I’m hard to forget, but easy not to call?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could catch yourself. But there wasn’t malice in them. It felt almost… disheartened. Disappointed.

“I…I should’ve told you, I’m sorry,” Bucky said with a soft sigh, looking regretful. “I don’t have a phone. I lived on an army base with a bunch of my dad’s old army buddies, and I didn’t have money, and I couldn’t call you. So I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, a little disbelieving, but you nodded. “Okay. That’s alright, I get it.”

Bucky smirked slightly. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

You cracked a smile. “No, I don’t.��

“Well, not to crush the mood or whatever, but uh…” Bucky scratched his neck. “My parents died when I was ten, so my dad’s buddies took me and my sister in. Taught us soldier values and things. Makes me good at it, so I decided to do it for real.” He gestured to his outfit.

“Oh, God… I’m sorry,” you said, immediately feeling bad.

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize. You got no reason to,” Bucky said kindly. He was clearly used to hearing this kind of thing. “Anyway, I, uh… I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. Listen, I’d love to get to know you better, I really liked talking to you when we first met, and if… if you give me your address, I’ll write you a letter. I can give you mine.”

“What about those girls over there?” You asked, skeptical.

“Oh, I invited them out trying to set my friend up. They’re not horrible, not special either. I don’t really know them. But I like you.”

Maybe it was that you couldn’t resist him. Maybe it was that your internal compass always directed you to paths that often got you hurt. Whatever the reason, you wrote down your address on a scrap of paper and handed it to Bucky, who gave you his address.

“I’ll write you!” Bucky promised with a smile as he left.

You smiled at him, and gave a small wave goodbye. “Good luck!”

Despite all of your hesitations and skepticism, a letter from Bucky did in fact come—even sooner than you’d anticipated.

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t think I’d actually get a chance to write this. Not because I didn’t want to—I did. I really did. But the truth is, things here move fast and slow all at once. It’s strange. Some days feel like they never end, and others go by before I can even think about what happened. Still, you’ve been on my mind. More than I probably should admit, considering how little time we’ve actually spent together. But you left an impression. A real one.

Right now, I’m at a base somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t tell you where exactly, even if I wanted to. Just endless trees, mud, and the sound of boots hitting the ground at five a.m. every morning. We wake up before the sun’s out, and by the time it sets, I’m usually too tired to think. My hands are always sore, and my back’s been aching like I’m an old man, but I guess that means I’m doing it right.

We’ve been doing a lot of drills—marching, formations, weapons training. They’re tough on us, but not unfair. I get why they do it. They’re trying to make sure we’re ready. Trying to make us solid. I try to keep my head down, work hard, do what I’m told. But at night, when it’s quiet, my thoughts drift, and that’s usually when I think of you. I remember how your hands wrapped around your drink, how you smiled when I called you pretty. I wasn’t lying, you know. You really are.

I share a tent with three other guys—Rossi snores like a freight train, Jenkins talks in his sleep (it’s honestly concerning), and Mack’s got this laugh that could probably scare off the enemy. They're alright, though. We look out for each other. Makes it a little easier.

Food’s not much to write home about—beans, bread, and coffee so strong it could probably take the rust off a tank. But I’d trade a week of rations for a soda at that diner with you again.

I guess I just wanted to say I’m still here. Still thinking about you. I hope you’re doing okay. I hope things are steady where you are, and that life’s treating you a little more kindly than it is me lately. If you feel like it, I’d love to hear from you. Just anything, really. What you’re up to. What books you’re reading. What songs are stuck in your head. Even just how the weather is back home.

Anyway, I should wrap this up. Lights out soon, and I’m hoping to fall asleep before Rossi starts up his nightly chainsaw impression. Be safe, Y/N. Take care of yourself. And write back if you can—I’d like that more than you know.

Yours,Bucky

Soon, you were writing letters back and forth to each other constantly. Almost every single day, you sent Bucky a letter, Monday through Saturday (no post on Sundays). And it was the highlight of your day when you got one back from him. He tried his best to write you as frequently as possible—his handwriting wasn’t the best, and he was often exhausted. Rossi and Mack teased him for it, but Jenkins would just shake his head and say, “c’mon, guys,” and Rossi and Mack would laugh and move on to something else. But it was worth it, to Bucky. It was worth it for you.

Dear Y/N,

I got your letter this morning — the one where you described the rain hitting your window like it was trying to get in. You’ve got a way with words, you know that? I could almost hear it. Almost felt like I was there, sitting next to you with a blanket over our legs and a mug of something warm between us. Sounds stupid, but that’s what your letters do to me. They make me feel like I’m somewhere else — somewhere better.

It’s been a rough week here. More drills, more mud, more yelling from guys whose voices never seem to crack or run out. I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day during rifle practice — nothing bad, don’t worry — but it’s been aching something fierce. Mack offered to “pop it back in place,” and I had to remind him that he’s not a damn doctor. Rossi just laughed and said it was karma for all the times I beat him in sparring. He’s not wrong.

The letters from you? They’re the best part of my day. Every time one shows up, I hide away for a bit and read it in peace, sometimes twice if I’ve got the time. I keep ‘em folded in my jacket pocket, even though they’re starting to wear at the edges. Jenkins caught me smiling while reading one the other night and said, “That girl must write poetry or cast spells or something.” I told him maybe it’s a little of both.

You asked me in your last letter if I ever get scared. I wasn’t gonna answer, but I figure if there’s anyone I’ll be honest with, it’s you. Yeah. Sometimes I do. Not of the work or the fighting or the noise. I can handle that. What scares me is the thought of going through all this and not making it back to the things that matter — the little things. A real bed. Your laugh. The way you say my name like it’s a secret. I’m not saying I’ve figured it all out yet, but I know this: I want to come home and see where this thing between us goes. I think about that more than anything else lately.

Alright, enough of me getting all sentimental like some sap. I’m gonna try to get some sleep before we’re up again at dawn. Jenkins is already snoring — sounds like a train passing through gravel. But I’ll be dreaming of you anyway, so I guess it evens out.

Write soon, if you can. I’m always waiting.

Yours — maybe more than I should be,Bucky

But then they sent Bucky out to battle.

The letters became less frequent, maybe once a week instead of most days.

Then every two weeks, every three weeks, every month…

And soon, none at all.

You began to worry about him. You knew it was long, hard, gruelling, difficult work, and sending letters became more and more difficult, but… what if there was a reason they weren’t coming? What if he was hurt? Captured? Worst, dead? The intrusive thoughts crept into your brain, and they didn’t stop.

You’d started training to become a nurse shortly after Bucky had left for the war, and you had been waiting to tell him when you graduated. But soon, you’re thrust into working as a nurse, and your letters that you send him become less frequent. You lack the motivation as he hasn’t responded in almost a year.

It had been three years since Bucky first left. You were working in the hospital constantly. “We’ve got someone coming in!” A nurse rolled a man in on a wheelchair. His leg was in a cast, as was his arm. He had a black eye, bruises, scrapes, cuts, his hair was messy, a stubble growing, and yet, he was elated.

“Y/N!” Bucky called, grinning when he saw you. “Y/N!”

You ran over to him. “Oh… my God. What did you do to yourself? Bucky! Jesus, I missed you.” You carefully wrapped your arms around him, and he wrapped his cast-less arm around you, smiling widely, his eyes closed, content to be back. “I kept writing you, I didn’t know where you were…”

“A lot of places,” Bucky smiled softly. “Anyway, I’m done now, I’m a little beat up.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still resting on his shoulders, trying to take him in — all of him. His face had changed. Not in a bad way. Just… older. Harder in some places. Softer in others. His eyes still held that same glimmer, though — the one you remembered from that night in the diner.

“You’re really here,” you whispered, blinking fast. “You’re really here.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmured, smiling like he couldn’t believe it either. “In the flesh. All beat-up and stitched-together, but here.”

You laughed a little through the emotion rising in your throat, brushing your fingers over his hair, his cheek, just needing to make sure he was real. “You look like hell.”

“You should see the other guys,” he smirked, but then sobered, his brows drawing together as he looked at you — really looked at you. “You became a nurse.”

“I did,” you nodded slowly. “Started training right after you left. I was gonna tell you when I graduated, but… you stopped writing.”

Bucky’s smile faded, his expression falling into something deeper — guilt, pain, exhaustion. “I know. I’m sorry. I tried, I really did. They moved us around so much, sometimes in the middle of the night. There were times I didn’t even know where we were. I kept your letters in my pack, though. All of them. Even when I couldn’t answer.”

Your heart ached. “I thought you were dead.”

“I felt like I was, sometimes,” he said, voice low. “But I’d read your letters and remember I wasn’t. You kept me going, Y/N. Even when it got bad. Especially then.”

You blinked back more tears, your fingers brushing along the edge of his cast. “Are you done now? For good?”

“I am,” he nodded, a little breathless, like even saying it out loud made it feel more real. “They’re letting me heal up, and then… I don’t know. I was kind of hoping you’d help me figure that part out.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that.”

Bucky reached up with his good hand, cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek. “You look exactly like I remembered.”

“You look like a raccoon who got into a bar fight.”

He laughed, that familiar, warm sound that made your chest tighten, and his eyes lit up. “Yeah? Still think I’m charming?”

You leaned in, forehead resting against his. “Yeah, Buck. Always did.”

And right there, in the middle of the hospital corridor — with the scent of antiseptic in the air and the chaos of nurses calling for help down the hall — you leaned forward and kissed him, right on his lips. You could feel him smile against yours, kissing you back. For the first time in years, you were in the same place. Whole, and home.

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risrambles · 2 days ago

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incoming sambucky fic idea!

imagine sam comes home after a really long day of saving the world (as one does), captain america suit still on with his bag slung over his shoulder. house is dark, he knows that bucky is somewhere inside but doesn’t even have the energy to call out. he’s about to just beeline for bed until he notices small things that are off.

microwave is slightly open, light on. the clock is still set back even though bucky said he was going to change it because of the time switch. the window that was open when sam left the day before is still open and the air is cold and oddly still.

this is when sam gets the first idea that something is wrong, or at least not entirely right, but he almost doesn’t want to jinx it and tries to chalk it up to the fact that bucky is probably tired too. nevertheless, he sets his bag down quietly and his steps don’t make a sound as he slowly moves from room to room.

bucky is nowhere to be found; while he would usually text sam if he wasn’t going to be home that night, there had been nothing the entire day, and when bucky WAS home he would wait up for sam or fall asleep on the couch. but now, he’s nowhere to be seen. okay, something is 100% wrong, but sam can’t figure out what it is. is bucky gone? did someone break in? there was no forced entry and the window in the kitchen was only open a tiny bit. there was no way that anyone was inside other than sam and bucky.

sam doesn’t really know why but he suddenly feels like someone is in the room with him, and when he turns around—he has just made it to the edge of the living room—he sees someone standing in the entryway. someone he thinks he knows.

“jesus, bucky,” sam says, breathing as he recognizes bucky in the dim light. “creeping around—what the hell are you doing?”

but bucky doesn’t say anything, all he’s doing is staring at sam quietly and sam can’t read his face in the dark. sam has been relieved for only a moment, until he realizes that the atmosphere is off. something is shifted out of place.

“bucky,” sam repeats. “what is wrong with you?”

and bucky takes one step closer, into the faint moonlight that shines through the windows. sam can now see the emptiness in his eyes, the emptiness in his expression, and worst of all, the gun in his hand.

“bucky?” sam asks again, but as he does he is slowly positioning himself in a defense position. he knows that bucky isn’t a threat—the furthest from it. he’s been living with the guy for months at this point, and has known him since 2016. sam KNOWS that bucky isn’t a threat, that he shouldn’t be thinking as defensively as he is, but he does know who could be.

and then bucky speaks for the first time, a simple question that sam could remember steve repeating to him one time years ago. the words had meant near nothing to sam then, but everything to steve; now, sam was in the position to feel everything within himself drop as he heard the words.

“who the hell is bucky?”

#or: a scenario where the ‘emergency’ trigger word gets used on bucky in order to kill captain america #:D #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel cinematic universe #captain america #sambucky #the falcon and the winter soldier #fic idea #fic ideas #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfiction idea #fanfiction idea #riwrites

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raven-dor · 4 hours ago

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bucky tries a tiktok trend? - drabble #1

inspired from that one tiktok trend where the girls put a broom through their boyfriends sleeves to test their 'posture' but in reality they just tickle them senseless established relationship!! silly goofy behavior, no angst (i know, rare right?) allusion to nsfw word count: 688

"Okay." You giggled, setting up the phone on the windowsill. "Are you ready?"

Bucky nodded, locked in on your video. "Ready when you are, Doll."

His willingness to try anything worked in your favor more often than not, (the mannequin challenge, the time you curled his hair, the time you made him do the dirty dancing move - which he executed flawlessly by the way) but right now you couldn't help but feel bad for tricking him. Still, you decided to go through with it, it was a harmless prank. "Alright, just stand straight."

He stretched his back, and you tried not to stare at the way his muscles fought his t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Getting distracted?"

"Never." You shook your head, cheeks hot as you grabbed the broom. Walking back toward the camera, you smiled. "Today, I'm going to be testing my boyfriend's posture."

Bucky stood awkwardly behind you, the camera always made him shy. You kissed his cheek gently, talking to the camera as if he couldn't here you. "What a looker, am I right?"

He rolled his eyes. "I can hear you?"

You feigned surprise, laughing. "Are you sure? You're pretty old, maybe your hearing-" Before you could even react, he expertly wrapped his metal arm around your waist, pulling you in. "Bucky-"

He leaned down, kissing you the way he always did, like it was his last moment on Earth, all consuming and fiery. You felt weak, happy for his hold as you wrapped a hand around his neck, sighing into his lips.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." You grinned, pecking the corner of his mouth quickly. "I love when you kiss me. Makes me feel all mushy and-"

"Loved?" He raised an eyebrow. "I hope you feel loved."

You nodded, kissing his cheek once more. "I always feel loved. And important. You make me feel everything." His cheeks tinged pink, and you smiled, glad you had the same effect on him he had on you. Stepping back, you locked back into character. "I'm going to have to cut all of that out, of course."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "How unfortunate."

"James!" You scolded, shaking your head. "Behave yourself for five seconds, then you can kiss me senseless as much as you want."

"Senseless huh?" He muttered, and you glared. He raised his hands in surrender, laughing. "Sorry, sorry."

You took a deep breath, looking back at the camera. "To see if he has good posture, I'm going to put this broom through his sleeves."

Bucky nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem."

You giggled, nodding with him. "Not a problem at all." Slipping the broom through his sleeves, you smirked, presenting him to the camera. "Fantastic posture, if I do say so myself."

He stood tall, proud, unsuspecting as you prepared yourself to do the unthinkable.

Your mission: tickling the White Wolf.

Reaching your hands out, you grabbed his sides, tickling him senseless. He jumped, shocked at first.

"Jesus, Doll!" He couldn't help but laugh, almost shrieking when your attack didn't let up. He tried to run away, but you followed after him, unrelenting in your assault. "This is elderly abuse!"

You cackled, throwing your head back. "I'm sorry, this was all a ruse!"

He reached back, pulling the broom out of his sleeve. "You better run."

"Shit!" You screeched, racing toward the door.

Of course, he caught you. You knew he would, you were counting on it. "Spare me!"

He flung you over his shoulder, marched towards your bed, and tossed you down, caging you in between his beautifully muscular arms. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, the way he was staring at you nearly causing your heart to palpitate. "Bucky-"

"I feel betrayed." He spoke, his voice low. You knew he was kidding, but you pretended, playing into the bit.

"Oh?" Your hands itched to reach out and pull his lips to yours. "And what can I do? To earn your trust again, that is?"

He leaned down whispering in your ear, a chill running down your spine. "I can think of a few things..."

#literature #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #captain america #avengers #mcu fanfiction #fluffy fluff #drabble #🪩! fics

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codenameink98 · 2 days ago

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Sparking some retro mutant energy with Jubilee

#jubilee #xmen fanart #x men comics #x men #x men movies #uncanny xmen #x men 97 #comic art #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel rivals #character art #character design #fanart #character dynamics #stylised #mutants

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elgrandeavocados · 2 days ago

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dissolution (part 28) | matt murdock x ofc

Story Synopsis: Elizabeth Herrera and Matt Murdock go way back. Friends since college, the two have known each other for ten years. But as a couple, they’ve been together for four and lately, their relationship is hanging by a thread, and the two are desperate to make it work.

Will their relationship survive? Or will memories of their past hinder them from healing? MATURE.

Author’s Note: Well, hey there! A new chapter of 'Dissolution' is here. I honestly thought this chapter would take me longer to finish, seeing as I mentioned it would be long, but when the words came to me, I just let them take control, and here we are! I hope you enjoy it, and I can't wait to read your thoughts.

Also, Did you notice the new thing I tried out regarding El messaging? What do we think? I think it reads more naturally, but I'm open to hearing what you think and whether it should stay or change back to the old format! 💗

Read Part 28 of ‘Dissolution’ HERE

Excerpt from Part 28

Tiredly, Matt shook his head.

I sat more comfortably beside him, crisscrossing my legs before moving my hand to his forehead to check his temperature. I moved my hand behind his neck before grabbing his hand into mine. “What happened?”

“I just got a little lightheaded,” he whispered.

“Did you get up too fast?”

He nodded.

“You didn’t fall, right?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“What else is it?” I asked. I felt his thumb brush over my knuckles. “What else happened?”

“What makes you think something else happened?” he asked softly.

“You’ve been crying.”

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the-voice-beckons-below · 1 day ago

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thank you bub for the tag!! this is such a fun interactive game, the snippets from your pirate bucky x fairy reader are all so exciting!! and all the people from before have wonderful ideas and writing too <3

okay so leaf, let’s see what i can do with that! (update, i struggled finding one for L)

L- life had been almost too much at times, ripping away from mind control once again and immediately being thrust into an avenger’s dispute, with the guilt of meeting someone who was a direct victim of his past, of the blood coating his hands. (bucky x god reader pt2 wip)

(maybe this is a sign to spice up my writing more since i was debating to cheat on the E one.)

E- even now, his gaze is fixed on the desk, avoiding looking anywhere else. peter itches to whip out a witty comment, something light, a stupid jest about earlier, maybe let the other know they’re neighbours, but it never comes. it would disrupt his whole selectively mute, keeping his head down and being invisible plan. (peter x trans masc reader, college au)

A- at that, sam heaved a sigh, his brown eyes locking with blue, a strong resolve within them. bucky recognised it from a mile away, the way sam would grasp onto something with such a fierce determination and then not drop it. in preparation he opened his mouth, at the ready to refute whatever came from of wilson’s lips. “wait!” sam glared, “let me speak, you’re so goddamn impatient.” (bucky signing up for a program that entails helping someone with PTSD)

(something extra for the final letter)

F- for the rest of the night, steve was positively beaming, smile so wide that his gums were completely on show. his partner didn't share the same sentiment, more locked in thought than anything else.

bucky was undoubtedly assessing whether the third person tethered to them was a threat, both physically and psychologically. what were the odds of separation? was there a possibility of losing steve, well, losing him again?

despite the initial happiness and excitement steve had, he cooled off gradually at bucky's demeanour. cooking a very minimal effort dinner for them, that they ate in loaded silence, until steve predictably spurted out words. "how- how are you feeling buck?"

"you want the honest answer?"

(end of the red line pt2)

<3 <3 <3

this was really fun!! it was nice sharing some snippets of these works because i have no idea how long it’ll be until you actually see them, but know, that i am alive and very inconsistently jotting things down <3

thank you for the tag my sweet!

Wip Word Train!

EEEE!!!! Thank you SO much for the tags @bhaal-battle-beer-bard, @vividiana, and @khywren!! I've been tagged in a few different words, Lust, Spring, and Growl, so I'll go with GROWL since that was the most recent word I was tagged in and haven't seen anyone fulfill that one yet!

Rules: you get a word and look through your current WIPs to find a sentence/paragraph starting with each letter of that word.

These are all from Part 8 of Beauty and the Bard!

G - “Go on,” was all you offered. He exhaled. “She told me that I was allowed to love you.”

R - Raphael lifted his head. “My apologies to the flittering lovebirds.”

O - “Our guests will have no idea we fucked on the lounge in the drawing room.”

W - “We’ve never laughed together,” he licked your ear. “Not once,” you giggled.

L - “Listen to your mate,” Nessa growled. “She’s not-” “Oh please,” Nessa said, annoyed. “You two reek of each other. It’s as if you were attempting to make pups mere moments ago.”

I tried to get a little variety in here from all over! Can't wait for you guys to get some context!

No pressure tagging: @arzen9, @busy-baker, @tillysketch, @buck-star, @deadly-diminuendo, @verbenaa, and @andromedaancunin!! Your word is "HEART" 🥰

#wip game #wip train #marvel #bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #peter parker #mcu fanfiction #mutuals <3

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kylopen · 1 month ago

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In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today—calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more��something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

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eclipsedechoesofmywords · 9 hours ago

Note

idea for joaquin:

i see alot of sushine x grumpy reader when ppl r writing joaquin fics but pls i need more sunshine x sunshine and its joaquin and reader being literal comedic geniuses on missions and flirting over comms 😫

"Ray Of Sunshine"

[Joaquin Torres x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: You and Joaquin are pains in Sam and Bucky's ass.

Warnings: Mild action violence, relentless flirting, and Sam Wilson contemplating a career change

Word Count: 831 words

A/N: I think we can all agree that bucky and sam are officially parents.

"We should get a team dog," you said, thinking out loud.

Three voices answered you at once through the comms. Two were a chorus of "NO!" The other, "YES!" You decided to focus on the latter.

"A small golden one…" you continued, ducking behind a concrete pillar as gunfire sprayed the warehouse wall behind you.

"We could name it Ray," Joaquin suggested. You could hear his grin.

"Ooh, like a Ray of sunshine!"

Sam's groan was so loud it nearly drowned out the sound of Bucky vaulting over a shipping container to your left. "Focus, both of you," Sam barked, his wings slicing through the air as he disarmed a guard. "We're in the middle of a mission!"

"And we are not getting a dog," Bucky added, firing at a henchman sprinting toward you.

"But imagine the morale boost!" you argued, popping up to toss a smoke grenade. The room flooded with gray haze, and you darted toward the server room, Joaquin's laughter in your ear.

"Picture it, Buck—little Ray, tiny vest, teeny goggles," Joaquin said. You could practically see him miming the dog's outfit with his hands, even though he was three rooms away, hacking into the security system. "He'd be the best at fetch. And espionage."

"Espionage?!" Bucky snapped. A grunt, a thud—probably him body-slamming someone into a wall. "It's a dog."

"Exactly! No one suspects the dog!" you chirped, sliding into the server room and slamming the door shut. You yanked off your glove to press your palm to the biometric scanner. "Quin, how's that hack coming?"

"Already in," Joaquin said, smug. "You're welcome."

"Show-off."

"Admit it, that's why you love me."

Your cheeks warmed.

"Less flirting, more focusing," Sam cut in. The Captain America voice dialled up to 'I'm two seconds from drowning you both in a lake.' "Torres, any alarms?"

"Nope. Smooth as butter. Also, you do love me, right sunshine?" He didn't need to ask, he already knew the answer.

You rolled your eyes, typing rapidly on the server's interface. "Keep dreaming, flyboy."

"Oh, I will. Vividly. With plot."

Bucky made a sound like a feral cat. "I'm begging you two to take this seriously."

"We are!" you and Joaquin said in unison, then burst into laughter.

The two of you had turned into an art form really: you'd crack a joke, he'd retort back, and somewhere between the banter and the bullets, the bad guys ended up in a pile, thoroughly confused about how they'd been beaten by a duo who argued about pizza toppings during a car chase.

"Got the files!" you announced, yanking the hard drive free.

"Great! Now get out before backup shows up," Joaquin said. "Also, duck."

You dropped to the floor just as a guard burst through the door, his weapon whirring over your head. Joaquin's voice turned sharp, all playfulness gone. "Three o'clock. Disarm and go."

You spun, sweeping the guard's legs out from under him and snatching his gun. "Thanks."

"Anytime. Now when do we get this dog?"

"NO DOG!" Sam and Bucky shouted in unison.

The second you spotted the scruffy golden retriever trotting through the lot on the way back to the quinjet, you froze. "Uh. Joaquin. Look."

He looked over to where you were pointing. "Is that…?"

"A literal ray of sunshine," you whispered, clutching your chest. The dog wagged its tail.

"No," Sam hissed.

"Yes," you and Joaquin breathed.

"Not a chance!" Bucky said.

But the dog padded toward you, cocking its head, and dropped a muddy stick at your boots. You gasped. "It's fate."

"Sam. SAM. They're adopting a street dog," Bucky deadpanned. "This is your problem now."

Joaquin scooped the retriever into his arms. "C'mon, Cap! Look at…his eyes. He's got the heart of a soldier!"

"Leave. The. Dog." Sam said.

"Too late!" she said cheerfully. "Ray's one of us now!"

By the time they got back to the quinjet, with the dog, Sam's eye twitch had reached apocalyptic levels. Bucky stared at the retriever, now sitting happily on your lap, and muttered, "If it pees on my gear, I'm shaving it bald."

Joaquin bounded down the jet's ramp, helmet off and hair adorably windblown. "He’s so cute, look at him!"

"He looks like a menace," Sam said, though the corner of his mouth quirked up as the dog lolled its tongue at him.

You scratched Ray's ears, batting your lashes at Sam. "C'mon, Cap. Every team needs a mascot. We'll train him! He can fetch grenades!"

"He'll fetch lawsuits," Bucky grumbled.

Joaquin plopped beside you, shoulder brushing yours. "Admit it. You love him."

Sam looked at the dog. At Bucky. At the two of you, grinning like idiots.

"...He's not getting a rank."

You and Joaquin whooped, high-fiving as Ray barked as if in victory.

"But he is writing the mission report," Bucky added, his amusement showing.

Joaquin leaned toward you, whispering, "Worth it."

"Next step: matching outfits," You whispered back.

His smile could've powered a city. "Already designing them."

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itsmrvlxf1 · 1 year ago

Text

I love how we say "PROTECT THIS CHARACTER AT ALL COSTS" and then we go and hurt them like they have never been hurt before

#ao3 #fanfiction #marvel #tony stark #fanfic #fanfiction writer #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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multiversediaries · 21 days ago

Text

LOVE BRUISES

⤷ BUCKY BARNES X READER

Summary: A passionate night with Bucky caused a painful cervix bruise. Now all healed up, your boyfriend is scared to hurt you again.

Warning: soft and very cute, domestic buck! mentions of sex, small smut!

Part count: 1/2

A/N: hope you all enjoy! i absolutely adore domestic buck <3 apologies for any mistakes! english is not my first language :( i recently had eye surgery so my vision is a bit impaired! please do let me know of any grammatical mistakes!!

Your eyes widen at the intense pain you were currently feeling. A curse slipped from your lips, as you tried sitting on your shared bed. It was the day after an intense night with your long time boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.

Bucky could be rough at times, not that you hated it. In the contrary, you would find yourself begging the Winter Soldier to touch you, and pound you harder. But it seems like yesterday was too much for you to handle.

You made your way towards your bathroom, trying to continue on with your day. But the awful pain in your back and abdomen was driving you absolutely inside.

Samuel leaned back into his chair, staring at you, as you walked into the living room. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you were walking.

“You good?” Sam chuckled, crossing his arms infront of his chest. You shot him an annoyed look, shaking your head. You walked up to the couch, attempting to sit down without hurting yourself even more. “Rough night?” Sam teased you, raising an eyebrow at you. You snickered at him, knowing he probably heard you both last night. You remember how loud you were, not that your sore throat was any reminder.

“Too rough, it seems.” You replied, biting your lip. It was embarrassing to talk about this with Sam, but you were all so close to each other.

“No shit.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back whilst laughing still. You shook your head softly, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling a bit nauseous now. Sam’s laughter soon died down, as he saw your pained expression. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m fine! I swear.” You started, waving your arms in front of you, to try and stop Sam from panicking. “Bucky’s just… a big man, y’know? And we can get pretty… Let’s just say it was bound to happen.” You blushed at your own words. Bucky was much bigger than you, in height and built.

“I think I should get checked up, though. Pain’s pretty bad.” You continued, trying to change the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about your sex life to Bucky’s best friend. Sam sat up straight, biting his lip in worry.

“Shit, maybe he bruised you.” Sam said softly. This was probably it. It happens all the time, but this was your very first time experiencing something like this. You sighed softly, nodding your head.

“Do you mind distracting Buck while I go? Don’t want him to worry about this.” You asked.

“Oh, that ain’t gon’ work. Don’t you know the man?” Sam shook his head, knowing how overprotective Bucky was with you.

“Oh, come on, Sam. I won’t be long, just distract him—“

“Distract me from what?” You heard the man of the hour say softly. You closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip. Great. You slowly turned to look at him, staring at his serious expression. A smile instantly appeared in your lips, being so whipped for your boyfriend. His expression softened by your sweet face, now walking closer to you in the couch.

“Nothing. Just wanna get checked up really quick.” You said gently, trying to avoid certain words to prevent any worry from him. However, he knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were hiding something from him.

“Checked up? For what?”

“Oh, just—”

“She’s sore.” Sam started, your eyes widen quickly before quickly turning to look at Sam, your eyes begging him to shut up. “From last night.” He continued, and you couldn’t help but sigh, Bucky’s eyes widen, quickly meeting yours. He took in the sight of you, as if looking for discomfort and pain.

“What?— Did I hurt you, doll?” Bucky’s voice softened, his hands cupping your face, now kneeling in front of you. You could’ve sworn you almost melted into your seat.

“No, Buck, of course not!” You started, shaking your head, your hands laying on top of his in your face. You genuinely didn’t want him to worry or even worse, blame himself. You heard him sigh, knowing deep inside you were lying. He could feel your tense muscles; probably from the pain.

“I’ll take you to the clinic, okay?” He continued to softly speak to you. You sighed gently as his loving hands left your face to gently caress your thigh.

Cervical bruising.

God, it was extremely embarrasing to hear your doctor explain how to practice safe sex right in front of your long term partner. You remember how awkward the drive home was. Silent. Not uncomfortable, you could never be uncomfortable with Bucky, but you could just tell he felt terrible for overworking you that night.

Nights have passed awfully slow. You felt restless. Probably because your usually, very physically loving boyfriend rarely touched you. It was as if Bucky was somewhat scared of hurting you with his touch. Scared that a single caress could break you. The first nights, he even went as far as making a wall out of your extra pillows, just to be extra sure he wouldn't roll over you or embrace you at night. You ensured him it was not necessary, but after the advices of your doctor to hopefully ease your pain, Bucky was adamant to your safely and comfort. Bucky even went as far as getting you a heating pad, as your doctor explained how it would help with the pain. He just wanted you to be safe and healthy.

Bur you only craved the touch of your gentle soldier. For these endless couple of nights, Bucky would shower before bed, as usual, and hop into his side of the bed. He'd place a sweet, awfully short peck to your lips, roll on his side and fall asleep. It started to hurt your feelings how he seemed to rest so well without hugging you through the night. Soon enough, a couple of nights had passed since your small, and embarrassing injury. You felt as if you were going insane. You weren't only craving the sweet embrace of your man at night, you were also so incredibly horny.

You felt like a teenager, getting excited by the single sight of Bucky resetting his metal arm, or by the way his necklace would dangle over your face whenever he would help you to bed. It was the smallest things that would just get you going. You were currently watching as Sam and Bucky continued to fix Sam's family boat, standing by a pole, gently leaning on it. Bucky was wearing a short sleeve grey t-shirt, that accentuated his muscles perfectly. It brought butterflies to your stomach as Bucky noticed your frame, his attention now on his beautiful girl.

"Wait inside, baby. Don't want you to stand in the sun like that." Bucky spoke, a bit loud for you to hear. You smiled at him, shaking your head.

"It's okay! I'm a bit bored inside... Anything I can help with?"

"Yeah, actually! Grab that-"

"Sam." Bucky leaned over to softly slap Sam's chest. "No. She's supposed to be resting.' He continued, earning a small groan to leave your lips. Sam chuckled, raising his arms up in defense. Bucky wiped his greasy hands, walking towards you right after. "Doctor's orders." He said, his voice stern yet so incredibly loving, as if he were still worried. "I'll get you a chair, mhm? You can watch us or somethin." He mumbled, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek, before walking away. You let out a big sigh, closing your eyes in annoyance.

"Doctor's orders, he said." Sam mocked, a smirk in his face. A small grin appeared on your lips as you heard him mock your overprotecting boyfriend.

"I'm okay now. It happened almost two weeks ago and he's still..." You started, walking a bit closer to Sam. It was true. You felt all back to normal, and had been feeling this way for a few days now. No pain, no discomfort. You just felt needy.

"Y’know he's all intense like that." Sam said, offering you a small smile, while still working on the boar. You nodded, shrugging your shoulders. Bucky was just very overprotective over you, you knew this. It wasn't out of character for him to act this way. But now that you were all healed, you couldn't help but feel a bit bad, a bit unwanted even.

You spent the entire day, sitting, watching them work. Whenever you'd try to help, your sergeant of a boyfriend would order you back to your seat. You were only allowed to do small work, like hold their tools, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Here you stood, by the first floor of the boat, holding a screw driver as Bucky tried to fix the motor. You were so incredibly bored, but your mind was definitely active, dirty thoughts filling your mind. His grey shirt was now wet, and stained. It hugged his body even better than before.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky chuckled as he watched you, watching him. He had noticed a while ago, yet had decided to not mention it, loving your gaze on him. Your cheeks flushed, nodding your head.

"You look good." You simply said, your ears turning red. embarrassed by being caught staring. There was just so much tension between you, sexual tension.

"Yeah?" Bucky cockily asked, tilting his head, to follow your eyes as you tried hiding your flushed expression. He had even placed his tools down, now fully entertaining you. You nodded your head, now staring into his eyes, giggling softly. Your laugh died very quickly now swallowing hard as you took in how close he was.

His hands took their place in your hips. He felt you shake at his touch, noticing his effect on you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breathing by your cheek. Bucky licked his lips, his eyes roaming your entire body, fully checking you out. His breath hitched, watching you be so visibly affected by him. It was so obvious how both of you were so deprived of one another.

You don't even remember who started the kiss. You just know your hands were now tangled in his soft hair, as Bucky devoured your mouth. There was no point in stopping the moans and whimpers that left your mouth, you were in pure bliss. Your tongues continued to explore each other's mouth, kissing passionately. Bucky would pull away for air, hissing in between kisses, genuinely feeling as if he were going insane. He was desperate. So desperate that his hands lifted you up, sitting you down on the same motor he had been trying to fix earlier. He now stood between your legs, his hands cupping your head, kissing you deeply and lovingly.

"Oh, baby..." Bucky whimpered once he pulled away for air yet again. Both your chests rising up and down, already exhausted by your very heated make out session. Bucky's hands ran ro your thighs, gently rubbing them continiously. His eyes were closed, and his forehead stayed glued to yours. Your eyes opened, missing the feeling of his lips on yours, needing more of him. You hummed, in confusion, yet Bucky's eyes stayed closed, wetting his lips. He seemed to be containing himself. His hands on your thighs now squeezing them, trying to calm him eager and lust down. You could simply tell he was holding back from loving you.

No.

You connected your lips yet again, grabbing ahold of his shirt, and crashing your lips together, where they belonged. You refused to go down without a fight. You refused to let him get away. A moan left his lips, his hands starting to run to your waist, needing to feel you yet again. It felt so good, so right. Your heads continued to tilt, allowing each other access ro just eat each other's lips. You remember his tongue brushing over your bottom lip, God, it was all so messy. Goosebumps cpvered your entire skin, this was his effect on you. This heaven of yours was adrumptedly interrupted yet again. Bucky has disconnected your lips, his hands now gripping your thighs yet again.

"Y/N..." his breath shuttered. God, he was so desperate and you knew this. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you could just tell by the way he refused to meet your eyes that he was holding back. You could tell by the way his body seemed to not want to obey his words, still caressing you.

"No, doll. We…” Buck tried saying, one of his hands now running through his face, as shaky breaths left his mouth. He was long gone. It was taking everything in him. “Shit, we can’t.”

"What?"

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, his hands now on your waist, caressing your exposed skin with his thumbs. He sighed shakily, trying to get his breathing under control. He was scared to hurt you again. He was scared he'd lose control like he had done last tine, and hurt you. You gulped as you watched him, searching for a response in his face.

"Can hurt you again, baby. You haven't even healed."

"Bucky..." Your hands now laid on top of his. "I'm all healed up! I promise." You started, earning a few shakes of his head. "Yes, Buck. It hasn't hurt for a while now."

Bucky simply shook his head yet again. A big sigh left his lips, as he now hid his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck. Your arms carefully wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling your loving boyfriend leave soft, wet kisses on your sweet skin. You couldn't stop yourself from shuttering at the gesture. Only after a few seconds, Bucky leaned back, pecking your red lips just one more time, before helping you down to your feet. He took a deep breath, and long look at you, before turning back to continue his work on the motor. The motor he almost took you on top of just now.

You frowned deeply, your head almost dropping in defeat. You put your hair in a ponytail, feeling hot after everything that had just happened. You wanted to be mad, really, you did. But how could you? When this man loved you so much he kept holding himself back in fears of possibly hurting you? You were just... upset. How would you convince this man of yours you had healed? and that he could never hurt you?

"I'm 'bout to come down." You both heard Sam announce from above. You both chuckled at Sam, shaking your head softly. Bucky grinned widely, watching as Sam came down the stairs cautiously.

“Why are you the way you are?” Bucky said between chuckles, grabbing a hold of his tools yet again.

"Y'all are forbidden from doin' it inside my family boat, I hope y'all know that." Sam mumbled, walking towards the both of you. Bucky snickered, softly hitting him in the shoulder. You laughed a bit, leaning back and watchihg them work.

Your mind soon went back to the same question...

How would you take those negative thoughts out of the mind of James Barnes? When would you feel the loving touch of your boyfriend again?

Fucking cervix bruise.

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appocalipse · 8 months ago

Text

the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you sound deliberately casual. Too casual. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

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fungateshortcakes · 4 months ago

Text

Jealous much?

Pairing: dofp!Logan x fem!teacher!Reader

Summary: What happens when Logan finds the father of one of your students flirting with you after class?

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: Jealous!Logan, established relationship (you are married), flirting, Logan asserting dominance to the guy that thinks he has a chance with you, smitten Logan bc he loves u so much, reader is implied to be 'turned on' once, no use of (y/n), english is not my first language!

_________________

I love love LOVE jealous Logan. Someone (I think it was by @pandapetals) made a fic where Logan and reader were married and a students mother was flirting with Logan, which pissed reader off and she has to show the lady who has that man wrapped around her finger already. That was so YUMMY so this is the Logan-being-jealous counterpart, hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The end of the school day brought with it a familiar sense of relief and exhaustion. You loved your job, but after spending hours with a classroom full of high-energy students, you were ready to pack up and head to your room in the mansion.

The thought of your shared room and of your husband Logan waiting there brought a small smile to your face. But as you were tidying up your desk, the last few students leaving your classroom, you heard a voice call your name. Your head wiped around as you heard it. “Excuse me, Miss!” At first, you thought it was one of your students, but their voice was too deep to be a teenage boy.

You turned to see Mr. Reed, a tall, polished man with a charming smile. You recognized him immediately. He was the father of one of your more rambunctious students, Jason Reed. He seemed to live in this school, it was weird just how often you saw him around. He attended every single one of the parent evenings you hosted - only yours. And he often sought you out to have a conversation with him and his son. You didn't think too much of it, it was your job after all to answer the parents questions if they had any concerns.

You gave him a friendly wave as he approached. “Oh, hey, Mr. Reed” you greeted warmly, pausing in your steps. "Is there something you needed?

The man gave a casual shrug, slipping his hands into the pockets of his well-tailored suitjacket. “I was hoping to catch you for a moment. My son just won’t stop talking about you. Miss "the-coolest-teacher-ever’” he added with a chuckle, his blue eyes holding a distinct shimmer in them.

You laughed softly. Hearing this went down like honey. You were always happy to know that your students were enjoying your class. You were the teacher you wanted to be since you were a student yourself. The teacher that made other students feel safe, that didn't make them feel like they were pressured and had to deliver a certain level of performance to be good enough "Well, Jason is a great kid. He’s got so much energy. I can barely keep up sometimes, but I’m glad to hear he is liking my classes this far."

“Oh, absolutely. You’ve really made a difference for him” Mr. Reed said, his voice dipping into something smoother, something deeper. “He’s had a hard time adjusting to his mutation, you know. And the abilities that come with it. But since he’s been in your class, I can tell he’s a lot happier. More confident" he praised you highly, teeth bared in a dashing smile to you. “And that’s all thanks to you. I don’t know how you do it, managing a class full of kids with various mutations and powers they can't quite control yet. It’s impressive.”

You waved your hand dissmisvely at the single father, giggling bashfully. You weren't used to such direct praise from parents, not even from him. “I'm flattered, but it’s not just me" you replied modestly. “Mr. Xavier has build a great support system over the years.”

Mr. Reed clicked his tounge at your humble answer. “Don’t sell yourself short” he flashed you another grin. “You clearly have a talent with kids. Jason has made more progress in the past few months than he ever has before. I’m not sure how I could ever thank you properly.”

His tone was friendly for the time being. The conversation continued. And at first it felt completely professional, how it should be. Mr. Reed asked about Jason’s curriculum, your teaching methods and even about the schools approach to managing the students unique abilities. You were more than happy to answer all his questions, oblivious to the way he started inching closer.

“It’s just refreshing” he said, leaning casually against the wall next to you, his eyes subtly roaming your figure “to meet someone as smart, kind and beautiful as you. Jason’s lucky to have you as his teacher. The whole class is.”

The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just being nice. He was flirting. You blinked, your polite smile faltering. “Oh, um, thank you” you replied, starting to feel a little awkward. It showed with the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A sign for him that you were all shy and bashful around him. Far from that. You felt really uncomfortable.

"I’m lucky, too, really” he added, fueling the bad feeling in your gut. His eyes sweeped over you, this time less subtle, in a way that made your skin prickle, but not the good kind.

Then he decided to just go for it and ask the big question. He was impatient and wasn't in the mood to wait until you initiated something first. He had waited long enough. “Do you ever take time for yourself? Maybe let someone take you out for dinner?”

Your composure completely faltered for a second. The nerve this guy had. Didn't he see the obvious gold ring on your finger or did he purposefully decided to ignore it? You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to shut this down, but you didn’t get the chance to.

“Everything alright in here?”

Logan’s gruff voice cut through the hallway like a blade, low and unmistakably annoyed. You turned to see him striding toward you, eyeing Mr. Reed like a wild animal stalking its prey. His broad shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and his dark eyes locked onto the other man with visible irritation.

You jumped as if you had just been caught cheating. “Logan” you squeaked surprised.

He huffed through his nose, his nostrils flaring like the ones of an angry bull that was riled up by the red in its vision. Well, when he had this loser of a man flirt with a goddess like you, his goddess, then he saw red. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt” Logan nearly growled, his tone anything but apologetic as he stopped next to you.

Mr. Reed blinked, clearly caught off guard. He swallowed thickly “Oh, I was just-” he tried to save the situation, or rather his own life, but Logan cut him off. “Flirtin’ with my wife?” Logan asked, arching a brow.

Mr. Reed’s face went pale as the snow falling outside the mansion, coating the gardenwith a thin layer of white. His eyes searched for your hand. They went wide as he looked at the wedding band you had been proudly wearing for six years now as if it had just appeared. “You-wait, you’re married?”

“Sure am” Logan said, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against his side, securing you there. Marking his territory. His grip was warm and possessive and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

Mr. Reed stammered, his eyes darting between you and Logan in embarrassement and if you looked correctly, a little bit of fear. “I-I had no idea. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stuttered out, laughing awkwardly in a bad attempt to play down his nervousness.

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Logan said flatly. “So maybe next time, think twice before you try to fuck someones woman" he spat, taking a step closer to Mr. Reed. You gasped softly at Logans word and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a warning look. “Logan” you muttered softly, trying to rein him in like a guard dog that was ready to pounce if its owner let him. You couldn't say that this side of him didn't turn you on immensly. But you didn’t need to get scolded by Charles for scaring off a parent.

But Logan wasn’t done. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And just so we’re clear, she’s not interested. Ever” He snarled, down right barked his last word into Reeds face, who then mumbled another apology before practically fleeing down the hallway, leaving you alone with Logan.

Once he was gone, you turned to your husband with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “and that was really necessary?" you chuckled with a proud smirk. “Damn right it was” Logan replied, his hand still possessively gripping your hips, smoothing over them. “Guy needed to know who he was dealin’ with.”

You sighed, but your lips twitched into a small smile as you leaned against your broad and strong teddy bear of a husband. “You know I can handle myself, right?”

Logans lips pulled into the slightest smile as he looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. “Yeah, I know” Logan muttered, his tone softening as he admired your pretty face. That pretty face he had the privilege to wake up to every morning because you were his wife. His. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some jackass hit on you though.”

You giggled, shaking your head fondly, reaching up to cup his gruff cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan shrugged “Maybe” he said, smirking. “But you like ridiculous. Wouldn’t have married me otherwise, missy" he rumbled deep in his chest, making you smile because it was the truth. You married him for it. Married him for everything he was. “Guilty as charged" you murmured with a smile, standing on your toes to kiss him softly.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. By the time he pulled away, his loving smirk had returned, but his eyes were filled with something softer. Something only you got to see. Something that you wanted to see for the rest of your life just from him.

“Still don’t like sharin’,” he muttered. You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to.”

And as Logan laced his fingers with yours, leading you towards the mansions garden to take a relaxing stroll through the green and white landscape after this unpleasant encounter, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the man who’d fight the world to keep you by his side.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

And weirdly enough, you never saw Mr. Reed after that, not even at the parent evenings. I wonder why...

If you liked this- like, comments and reblog! It helps a lot🎀

#logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #x men #hugh jackman #wolverine x reader #x reader #logan howlett #marvel #logan wolverine #days of future past #dofp! logan #xmen dofp #mcu #mcu fanfiction #Dofp Logan x reader

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