#brock rumlow x black!reader

[ramp-it-up]

Yeah. Kinda love this one.

Thanks for the Reblog! 😁

Taste

Pairing: Mob Boss! Sam Wilson x Rumlow! Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic); Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic); Brock Rumlow x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: around 4K

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Childhood hoods, childhood crush, childhood nicknames based upon appearance, young Brock, Steve, Bucky and Sam, skinny Stevie Rogers, sibings being sibings, bratty behavior, Angst, allusion to underage drinking and crime, toxic parents, protective bothers, allusions to underaged drinking, bratty behavior, a punch in the nose (accidental), bloody nose, shirtless Sam, kind of innocent reader, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) loss of virginity, pain during sex, p in v, raw sex (wrap it or don’t tap it), praise kink, after care. This entire fic is comprised of two flashbacks.

A/N: This is in the same AU Try a Little Tenderness and The Representative, and comes directly after Addicted To You. The AU is called This Thing of Ours.

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You were ten years old, it was 2002, and you were spending the summer in Brooklyn at your father’s house. 

It was long before the mob war that he created which separated your brother Brock from his best friends. 

And it was a time that would change you forever.

The July afternoon was hot and so was the block. Music was blaring from the speakers of someone’s radio and there was a buzz in the air: adolescence, ambition and a potential for violence. 

Keep reading

[uranvittie]

I’m on the run with you, my sweet love.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You are a special soldier for Hydra, who brainwashed you to forget your past in Red Room. On a certain mission, you come face to face for the first time with Black Widow, who tries to kill you at first. And then she looks at you with sad eyes?

Warnings | Tags: ¿Angst? little. Friends to enemies to friends to lovers? Sort of, not really enemies, at least not that much. Blood, a little. Knives, guns, some stabbing, pretty quiet actually, I think, very fluffy and some comfort. Slow burn maybe. No use of T/N. +7K.

Note: This is actually my first time writing here on Tumblr, my first time writing a story for Reader/TN, just so you know, I do NOT use "T/N", sorry. It's replaced with "—" Is that more comfortable? Somehow it feels that way. Anyway, yeah, this is my first time writing something like this here, so sorry if it looks ugly. And well, I also clarify that english is NOT my forte, gosh, it's not my native language, so there might be some mistakes. And about this, well, the reader is basically a Bucky Barnes, but the equivalent for Natasha would be Steve, but without the good morals. Although I don't think I mentioned the gender of the reader, the intention is that it should be a female. And this is just a practice for my writing, it's been a long time since I wrote.

Your mission there was easy, well, you wouldn't use the word 'easy', it would be rather simple. A simple task where you had to be efficient.

Assaulting a moving train so that others could gain access to a weapon. There were no specifications, you didn't need them.

You were never given the number of soldiers accompanying you, nor the number of agents you had to deal with. You didn't ask. It was never necessary information.

Your job was one and simple, the only thing you were good at: assassination.

Every known SHIELD agent had been shot through the forehead by you. And your expression was unchanging, without a trace of emotion —under the mask— even when blood splattered on you, you barely twisted your lips in disgust, because, God, the feel of other people's dirty blood on your skin was always unpleasant and uncomfortable. But this was your job, and you had to do it perfectly.

The team responsible for removing the weapon was in place. After you had perfectly fulfilled your role as a shooter, you finished off everyone in most of the wagons.

Your mission was to make other people's jobs easy. Your boots echoed on the floor with every step you took, and the loaded gun in your arm was used on any agent who got in your way. And then there was the redheaded agent. Someone Brock Rumlow had identified as Natasha Romanoff, and through the earpiece you received a warning not to entertain Natasha Romanoff.

Uh.

The name echoed in your brain, but you didn't understand why.

So when you reached the inside of a carriage, after disposing of two SHIELD agents in the back, and met her head-on, you barely had a chance to blink before she lunged at you.

The way Natasha Romanoff fought was something that deserved a warning, now you understood. Her moves were fast, precise, deadly. She didn't even give you time to breathe, and you were so shocked that someone could match her movements and speed that you barely had a chance to dodge and protect yourself from each blow.

At some point, Natasha Romanoff knocked you to the ground. You couldn't even blink, what was going on? And at that moment, you seemed to have finally snapped out of your stupor, jerking forward as the agent pinned your wrists to the floor. You practically grunted in pain as the redhead drove her knee into your stomach.

In the next second, you felt your mask being removed. It was like a soft caress of her fingers against your sweaty, sensitive skin. You didn't change your expression.

But you noticed the agent's expression change.

"—"

Her voice had an accent that sounded familiar —familiar—. Your brain repeated the word and you realized that you had nothing familiar to react to. But her voice, and that accent, and the way he looked at you. And what did she say?

You feel it. You feel it immediately. The way Natasha Romanoff's grip weakens, it's just a second, —or less than a second— a moment of weakness. A microsecond in which the agent seems to freeze. And, of course, you take advantage of it.

Your foot hits the agent's stomach hard, causing the redhead to roll off you. You stand up with incredible speed, and in that same second, you pull a knife from the pocket on your leg. You waste no time in throwing it forward, toward Natasha Romanoff's right arm, preventing her from grabbing the weapon she was apparently trying to retrieve. You don't give her a chance. You're fast. You're quite fast, faster than a mere human.

Your hand holds the gun tight, it's that second, and you don't hesitate when you fire. You never do. You shoot, aiming for her forehead, as you always do. But you miss. Damn it, Natasha Romanoff is fast too. She must be experienced enough to have seen that shot coming, or were you predictable?

You don't think about it. You don't think. You grab the smoke bomb on your belt and throw it on the ground, the smoke billows out, and the next second you're gone.

You run through the empty wagons, having just received a simple "It's done. Get out of there."

You know how the escape plan worked. Go to the last wagon of the train, with the weapon there, everyone was going to be picked up by a helicopter after they cut the connection to the moving train, which was also about to derail because they cut certain tracks before reaching the bridge.

They had about two minutes to get to the last wagon. Although there was the more risky backup plan, it was not recommended.

"Get back here!"

Then you stop.

You stop right there. You don't know why, but you do. Maybe it's the thick accent in that harsh, strong tone, or maybe it's because you're curious about the agent, Natasha Romanoff. Why is she looking at you like that? You're not sure, but it feels strange.

You blink slowly as you turn around and focus your gaze on Natasha Romanoff. She doesn't look like she could stand another fight against you. Not with that deep cut on her arm, or the bruise that's forming on half of her face, plus she's bent over, holding her stomach. Are you going to take advantage of that?

Of course you are.

The way your feet move with inhuman speed seems to surprise her again, wasn't she expecting it? You frown, but you don't stop, and you pick up speed after jumping and shoving yourself into one of the empty seats of the wagon to deliver another blow to Natasha Romanoff's face from above.

You watch as the agent collapses to the ground with a loud crash, like something breaking.

You watch her slowly, your head cocked to the side as you focus on the image of the seemingly defeated agent. Natasha Romanoff looks up at you with reddened, crystalline green eyes. Is she crying? You barely blink. She has a busted lip and a scrape on her cheek where she hit the ground.

"Where are you?"

The voice in your earpiece asks, and then you snap to attention. Why are you looking at all?

You barely have a chance to take a step before you feel the weight on your left foot. You look down, confused, and notice the bloody hand gripping you tightly. Then you turn to see Natasha Romanoff crawling, clinging to your leg.

You raise an eyebrow in further curiosity, but after a heartbeat you grab the gun on your belt and point it at her head.

"—"

That name again. You frown as your gaze lingers on Natasha Romanoff. —It's a name, isn't it?— You're sure you recognize the name, but you're not so sure. Your breathing has become more leisurely and you don't realize it until you feel the grip on your boot tighten again.

"—"

"Who's that?"

The look Natasha Romanoff gives you at that moment is that of someone who knows less than you do. Barely able to think, you press the gun to her head to remind her where she is.

The agent says nothing and gives you a confused look. It feels strange. You definitely don't like her. Your finger slides down the trigger and just as you're about to squeeze, you feel the pressure of a bullet in your shoulder make you pull back.

You back up, letting the gun fall to the ground as you clutch your wounded shoulder. You glare angrily at the person who shot you, your hand immediately going to your uniform belt to grab another weapon when you hear the sound of another gunshot.

But this time the bullet never hits, as Natasha Romanoff takes out the agent shooting at you. Fighting her own people? You don't think. You don't think. You don't think about that or anything.

You're not supposed to.

So you use the second she's giving you to escape and throw yourself through the smashed door of the wagon onto the cliff.

Well, here's the emergency plan.

————————————　♡　————————————

"The agent… on the train…"

"I saw her somewhere else…"

"I knew her."

"But… uh… I knew her…"

You can't think about it. You're not allowed to. You're not allowed to think.

After the mission was successfully completed —Hydra had the weapon it wanted in its hands— you had been found among the snow-covered mountains of the cliff where you had thrown yourself to escape. That had been the plan.

You had used the ropes and hooks to hold on to something on the mountain, which lessened your fall, and the snow that seemed to have recently fallen also allowed you to stay alive. Anyway, it wasn't like you were allowed to die.

You were found quickly that same day at dusk, unconscious but breathing, of course, you had a tracker embedded in your neck.

When you woke up, they took you to the interrogation room to give the mission report, but you kept mumbling barely understandable words —things that no one had asked you— you kept repeating in your head and on your tongue that agent, Natasha Romanoff, as Brock Rumlow had called her.

So you didn't seem to be responding as they instructed. Did you hit your head too hard? Perhaps. Your brain remembered things. You remembered things you shouldn't remember, things they didn't want you to remember. The voice of the agent played in your head. And the name the agent had spoken.

What was it?

You don't remember now, of course. They never allowed you to remember anything. You weren't allowed to think. You weren't supposed to think. You weren't made for that, so after you made them hurt your head again, they threw you in your room.

It was nothing more than a cell. You wouldn't call it that because you didn't really have that word in your head. But it was a simple cold room with no windows, with brick walls painted white. Though the light that illuminated the small space was a cold light, which made it get a greenish-blue hue.

You moved to the mattress on the floor, it was hard and also cold, you had a pillow and a blanket at least. And then there was the bathroom, although privacy was poor, just a curtain. You didn't do much anyway, you weren't really allowed to do much. You would sit on the edge of your mattress and stare at the floor with your face resting on your knees and not even think. —Because you had no ideas or memories to think about— And you also don't know how long it takes before you hear the sound of the cell opening and the scientists coming in again.

————————————　♡　————————————

A hand rests on Natasha's shoulder, causing the agent to raise her head to look up and meet Steve, the man looking worried.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, though then he seems to regret asking, Natasha gives him a clear look that says, "How do I look?" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

The agent doesn't respond, just nods as she looks nonchalantly down at the floor.

Natasha hadn't spoken, not even during the mission briefing.

Steve and Natasha had been sent to the train to protect the SHIELD scientists on board, of course, the real mission was for the other team to secure the SHIELD weapon and they could protect the train. It all went horribly wrong. Many hostages were killed, the weapon was stolen by the mercenary group, and Captain America, while he may have been able to protect some SHIELD agents and scientists, was disappointed that his own team had to hide missions from him.

Steve still didn't understand.

Of course, Steve was upset with Natasha and had initially gone to see her to complain about her disappearing in the middle of a mission where she was endangering the lives of her teammates, only to find her collapsed on the ground, shaking. The agent next to Natasha also seemed upset, and it was because Natasha Romanoff had not allowed him to take the shot. Steve looked at Natasha confused at that moment, Natasha was not someone who would hesitate to shoot, in fact that was very much her style.

When Steve realizes that the agent doesn't seem willing to clear up any of his doubts, he walks away, hands on his belt and head down.

Natasha doesn't allow herself to lament too much, of course, she had spent a few hours looking down at the floor and up at the ceiling while recovering. And no doubt she had replayed every moment of her fight with you in her mind. How?

The way you looked at her, the way you didn't hesitate with your blows even when you shot her. Those cold, dark, clouded eyes. It wasn't like you. It wasn't.

You were so sweet, so gentle, so kind. You always looked at Natasha in a certain way. A way that made Natasha feel warm and appreciated. Even in the red room. And you cared, oh, you always cared about everyone around you, you even cared about others more than yourself.

Where was that?

Something had happened. Natasha missed a lot of things.

She met you in the Red Room, the first time she saw you was in the ballet room, and her first thought was that you were perfect. You did it the perfect way. You were more outstanding than anybody else. And at such a young age. Even Natasha was always called a prodigy, but you were a genius. And you had a heart. That was the most important thing. You kept your heart.

Until you didn't.

Natasha never heard from you again after you were taken on a mission from which you never returned. Everyone assumed you were dead. It wouldn't be the first time. It wouldn't be the first time another girl was sacrificed for Dreykov. Nor would it be the last. So when Natasha had the chance to get out, to leave, she took it.

And Natasha didn't think about you anymore. She didn't. The Red Room had been left behind, far behind, buried in her past. She never thought she'd see you again, never even imagined the possibility that you were still alive out there.

Where had you been? Still working as an assassin? For a group of mercenaries for hire?

And you didn't even remember her?

————————————　♡　————————————

It was not your mission. You definitely didn't need to intervene. It wasn't your business. It wasn't your mission, but there you were. Disobeying someone else's orders for the first time. Winter Soldier, a super soldier you knew well —their torture chambers were next to each other— the soldier heard your cries of pain and you heard his cries. You also heard his screams. And you definitely heard him recognize more than just orders and missions.

He remembered someone. Just like you.

Just like you once did.

You did, didn't you?

"Report, —" Brock Rumlow's voice in your earpiece made you jerk for a moment, you'd forgotten. You had left your position to follow the soldier. You just had to talk to him, ask him certain things, what did he remember? How could she remember too? Was there someone he was looking for? For what?

You were not there to fight. It wasn't your mission. So you don't intervene when you see the soldier —the Winter Soldier— fighting what you think is the acclaimed Captain America. You grimace in disgust at the Captain's uniform, ridiculous. Everything is going to shit, well, it's not like you can hold buildings, so you let everything go on without getting —if possible— even dirtier hands. It's not possible anyway.

You watch from a distance, a prudent and appropriate distance that allows you to see everything. You wish your hearing was as good as your speed, but it isn't, so you just read lips. Before you fall into the river, you see Steve Rogers —or Captain America?— call the soldier "Bucky".

You get out of the river before they do, of course. You are a good swimmer, and you are not carrying the weight of another super-soldier. You watch as the soldier, Bucky, pulls Captain America out of the river and drops him on the shore, and he takes off.

Then you follow him.

You'd like to say you'll get through the next few days without a hitch, but you won't, because first you had to rip out your tracker. And damn it, it hurt like hell. The news, the papers and everyone is talking about Hydra and SHIELD. Both organizations seemingly sunk and broken, finally dismantled. And with Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. Black Widow, exposing all their secrets, it seems the bad guys are hiding in the shadows while the good guys are struggling to find them.

Natasha Romanoff. That's who you should be looking for, right? The agent on the train who looked at you the way no one else had. And who had spoken a name, a name that might have belonged to you, in a quiet way.

Bucky Barnes is a pain in the ass. Maybe you shouldn't have followed him. And you shouldn't have stayed with him, but it's too late. And they're stuck together. He's stupid, clearly from a bygone era when people barely used televisions. And he doesn't know anything except his own name, and that's because Steve Rogers apparently told it to him.

Because Steve Rogers is a hero revered by many in the world, he gets a museum filled with information about the soldier. James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, they both learn. They can reconstruct a bit of Bucky's past, but there is nothing about yours. Most of Hydra's facilities are destroyed or being dismantled by the government, or incredibly hidden if they're still there, and there's not much you can do with a soldier who looks at you like he's lost, and you with a clouded and shadowed mind. You're both a mess.

He screams and cries almost every night. And you can't sleep —you don't have nightmares, it's worse than that— you can't sleep at all with the constant feeling of alertness in your head.

At least neither of them is alone in their stormy times. If that's any consolation.

Until you separate.

It's more or less an agreement. You realize that Bucky is of no use to you and you're of no use to him. One day you both just give up the little shelter you have and run off to different places. Neither of you visits the room you shared for the last time.

———————————　♡　————————————

Norway.

She's been searching for you for over eight months. Chasing a ghost, an elusive kitten, but here you are at last.

Natasha's breathing gets heavier as the cabin finally comes into view. She's tracked you here, she can see it's the shelter you've spent the most time in. She's found your other huts, of course, she's been through a few. And without a doubt, this one seems to be the healthiest.

A cabin in the woods, quiet, bright, also quite cold. Natasha goes to the cabin, doesn't even have to force the door, no lock. Quite organized —yes, kinda like you— clean, cool… do you even have books? Natasha's heart skips a beat as she inspects the pile of books on the coffee table.

Natasha doesn't touch anything, but her gaze is intense, curious and penetrating. She looks deeply at every detail. There is an old television in front of an equally old sofa, she also notices a record player in a corner and an empty cage on a wooden chair. The table is clean and decorated with a scented candle that is not lit at the moment.

Natasha is not surprised when she hears the sound of the door opening. But you are.

You see her sitting on the only other wooden chair, one hand resting on the table, holding your book. Even though it doesn't really belong to you. You see her put the book down and look at you for a second, both of you looking at each other in silence without saying anything.

You're wearing a thick cotton turtleneck that covers you up to your chin. It's too big for you, of course, and it doesn't belong to you. And you're carrying wood for the fire in the fireplace.

"Natasha Romanoff."

The name slips from your lips in a low, husky tone, shit, you haven't used your voice in a long time and it sounds strange. You try to control your breathing as you look at her and then look away.

"Do you remember?"

You let out a sigh and move forward, shrugging your shoulders. You move towards the fireplace with soft but steady steps, dropping the firewood to the side so you can stack the logs later. As you do so, you feel Natasha's gaze on your back and a shiver runs through you.

"I remember… some things, sometimes… memories come to me from time to time at unexpected times…" You turn around and look at her closely, Natasha hasn't moved from her seat, even though the book is now on the table and she's crossing her arms. "Sometimes… when someone says a word or I read about something… it's like a different image suddenly comes to me and then…" You rub your hands together, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace, and finally take off your gloves. "It's easier now that I'm alone…"

Natasha nods and looks at you with a wry expression, then points to the books on your nightstand.

"That's why you read so much."

You don't answer, continuing to rub your hands together in front of the fire, your fingers icy cold from spending so much time away from the cabin.

You don't look at Natasha, but you can feel her looking at you. God, her gaze is so intense. You lie on your back, facing the fire, shivering and hiding your almost tearful reaction. Natasha Romanoff. You've spent months reconstructing the image of the agent in your brain, trying to put the pieces together in your memories, searching and wandering to find crumbs of this person standing behind you now.

You feel your breathing become agitated and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You swallow the lump in your throat and lower your eyes.

"I'm not here to hurt you…"

Natasha's voice has this soft tone. You're not used to being spoken to like that, even with Bucky, in his better moments, his voice was always sleepy, fearful and insecure. Natasha Romanoff seems confident and kind, and your chest warms at the first comforting words you've heard in years.

Natasha doesn't seem bothered or uncomfortable that you don't speak. In that way she's a lot like Bucky, at least back then they didn't speak, they just looked at each other a lot and seemed to communicate through their eyes. Natasha Romanoff looks at you too much, but you try not to look back at her. It feels strange, in your chest, like a feeling of comfort and familiarity, but when you search your brain for where it came from, there's nothing there.

After adding more wood to the fire, you turn to Natasha, who is still sitting in the chair with her arms resting on the table, looking at you with a soft, calm smile. Why does she always have that look? You move more awkwardly as you straighten up, but when you finish stacking the logs, you walk to the area that functions as a kitchen.

You don't offer Natasha tea, you just make it for her. You learned how to make tea from Bucky. And you found out that you like chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey. So you make one for Natasha just like that.

You bring the cup to her and place it next to her at the table, since there are no other chairs, the only existing chair is pushed into a corner with a pile of books and more stuff, you stand there staring at the floor while you drink in silence.

"—"

You raise your head to look at her. Oh, she called you that again.

She explains that it's your name. She calls you that a few more times until it doesn't sound strange in your brain. Natasha puts a folder on the table that she apparently had hidden in her jacket. She offers to read it to you when you're ready. And you don't really feel ready, but you accept.

It leads you through the Red Room, how you were apparently kidnapped by Dreykov since you were a little girl. To your first mission for the Red Room, from which you never returned. Hydra captured you and brainwashed you to be their assassin, leaving behind everything you knew about the Red Room and leaving you with only the training. Much like Bucky —the Winter Soldier— you were given high-level missions by Hydra. A perfectly conditioned assassin who was not supposed to ask questions or have a past. Natasha Romanoff has been searching for you since the fall of Hydra because of your shared past, of which you only have fragments.

Natasha speaks and explains in her characteristic calm tone. She looks at you with soft eyes and a hint of a smile on her lips. Her green eyes sparkle as they focus on you. You let her talk about you and listen to her. She asks questions and you answer as best you can.

"How have you been?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Are these your clothes?"

"Are you eating well?"

You've moved over to the old chair and she follows you, sitting at the other end, because she's noticed that you move away when she gets too close. And you can't help it, even though part of your brain is sure that Natasha Romanoff won't hurt you, the damaged part of you is constantly on alert, sending out danger signals.

"Did you have a bird?" Natasha asks, pointing to the cage on the pile of books on the chair in the corner of the room. You shake your head.

"It was trapped. And I freed it."

Natasha nods and smiles at you again. For the first time, you smile back at her, and you see her eyes light up at what you have done. You can't help but blush when you notice it.

As night falls, you realize that Natasha has no intention of leaving, so you start to get ready for bed. You turn off the fire in the fireplace, and after making some more tea, you show her where you sleep. It's a separate, airier room with thick glass windows and fluffy curtains drawn to keep out the little moonlight. There are a couple of oil lamps because the bulb is out and you haven't found a replacement. The bed is in a corner, with thick blankets and a few pillows. There's a large green rug on the floor and a rocking chair. The rest of the furniture is mostly empty, except for a closet with some clothes in it.

You point to the bed and tell her she can sleep there.

"Where do you want to sleep?"

You point to the floor and Natasha laughs.

"I'm not taking your bed away."

"I'm more used to sleeping on the floor than on a mattress…"

Natasha twists her lips in disgust at this comment.

"We can share the bed. It's big enough." She points, watching you with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile. "It won't be the first time you share a bed anyway. And I assure you, I can be softer than Bucky…"

Oh, the heat rushes to your face, but you say nothing. Yes, somehow you had to share a bed with Bucky some nights. How would Natasha know?

You blink and nod, offering Natasha a coat which she accepts, changing your jacket into a sweater and kicking off your boots as you climb into bed.

Natasha lets you sleep on the side closest to the wall and you curl up in a blanket while she lies comfortably beside you. It's quiet, except for the sounds of the forest, like the wind or the animals. You can't sleep, not because you're uncomfortable with Natasha —it is uncomfortable, yes— but it's really your brain. Your damaged brain that won't stop sending out warning signals from the time you spent locked in a cell at Hydra Labs.

"I can hear you breathing faster."

You close your eyes and let out a sigh at the sound of Natasha's voice. You still have your back to her.

"Did we have an intimate relationship? Before I disappeared?"

You don't know why you're asking this —well, you do— but it seems you've surprised Natasha as well, because she remains silent for a long moment, you hear her clear her throat and shift.

"No. Never-" Natasha lets out a sigh and you're almost sure she's staring at the ceiling because her position on the bed has changed. "There was no time for that…"

Oh.

You're tempted to say something else. You want to explain the reason for your question, you even want to ask more, but you remain silent. It's just that the way Natasha had talked about you, about the two of you, when you were in the Red Room, it had seemed to you that something else had almost happened.

You regretted not being able to remember, or not being able to right now. Yes, you had some memories of the Red Room, but it was all about the exhaustive training they forced you to do.

"But there was something special." Natasha speaks, and even if you don't look at her, you can tell she has a smile on her face. "You were always someone special. Someone real. With a heart."

————————————　♡　————————————

You spend the next few days with Natasha. She doesn't seem to have any desire to leave, in fact, she just seems to get more and more comfortable. You go with Natasha to the town, she does her shopping and you do yours. You've never needed much. You do the shopping and buy some blankets. Natasha, on the other hand, seems to be carrying a lot of bags in her arms. You don't ask what she bought, she tells you anyway.

Natasha had a car, which you didn't find out about until the third day, apparently she abandoned it in an empty warehouse in town and when she went to pick you up the first time, she did it on foot. She mentioned that she didn't want to scare you.

She drives you back to the cabin. And she lets you be quiet the whole way because she doesn't ask you any questions.

Bucky has taught you how to cook some simple things, and you live with that. White rice is your favorite dish; plain, simple and neutral, somehow you feel comfortable eating it. Until Natasha makes you fried rice.

She seems really happy that you like her food, because she smiles like a fool as she offers you more and more. You've never eaten anything so delicious, or at least you can't remember, so you thank her for the food and wash the dishes when you're done.

You share your place like Bucky, but she's very different from Bucky. Natasha is super helpful. It's not like Bucky was useless, but between two mentally damaged and deranged people, they couldn't fix a window lock. Natasha talks a lot all the time, and she's organized, very clean too, she seems to like to flirt and smile at you more than you'd think appropriate, but she's always very kind and gentle. She fixes the TV and manages to find a video player in one of the old boxes that the previous owner kept in a closet.

They sit on the couch —closer than before— for hours watching old movies. Natasha also offers to buy newer movies or ones she thinks you'd like, but you tell her you're fine with whatever. In the afternoons, you usually go for walks in the woods and around the nearby lake, you sometimes take the opportunity to chop wood, and she usually spends her time fixing things around the cabin. You don't ask her, she just finds things that don't work and fixes them. Like the broken glass in one of the windows, or the poorly nailed floorboard, or the door without a lock.

You're making tea when she comes in with a new light bulb to finally replace the burned out one in the bedroom. Natasha doesn't say anything to you when she sees you standing there with the jar of honey in your hands, as she goes into the bedroom with a ladder that she somehow built back in the day to change the light bulb. Natasha also fixes the shower in the bathroom so that the hot water works, even though you tell her that you prefer cold water.

"You shouldn't try so hard to fix this…you know this place isn't even mine?" You tell her one day when you see her trying to rebuild the fence.

"I bought it."

"What?"

"Well, I obviously knew it wasn't yours. So I tracked down the real owner and bought it." Natasha explains carefully, a hammer in her hand as she gestures toward the cabin. "I bought it for you." She mumbles and her goofy smile returns to her lips. Oh, she's a fool who likes to flirt. You already figured that out. "You don't have to run anymore."

Natasha looks at you in a way that makes you feel warm. And you have to look away so she doesn't notice the heat rising to your face.

You don't thank her. Your throat feels too tight to speak. And you know your voice gets shaky when you blush and get embarrassed, so you just avoid her by going back inside.

That night you cook for Natasha. It's a simple dish you've learned to make from the recipe book you've been reading. Mushroom risotto with Parmesan. It's a thank-you dinner, somehow you both know that. Natasha seems very happy that you're cooking for her. And she praises your dish a lot too, until you blush too much and ask her to eat in silence.

Natasha also fixed the record player, so after dinner you both sit on the couch while you read and she fixes an old radio she found in one of the boxes, she puts her feet up on the table and a slow melody plays in the background.

The next few days are much the same, though you seem to feel more comfortable with Natasha's presence as you get used to her. Natasha is someone who touches a lot, so you no longer flinch when Natasha's hand sometimes brushes yours, or freak out when you feel her hand on your lower back, or when she looks over your shoulder at what you're cooking. You finally have something familiar. And you appreciate it.

You appreciate the way Natasha wakes up before the sun even comes out to go for a run, the way she greets you when you come into the house after her morning run —with a pat on the cheek as she rests her head on your hair— you appreciate the way Natasha always finds something to fix, and you appreciate the way she smiles when you offer her more pancakes and tea. Even though you know Natasha prefers coffee. You learned how to make pancakes from Natasha and started making them for Natasha almost every morning.

One day you discover a box on your doorstep. Natasha is out running, so you pick up the sealed and wrapped box and notice a label on the top. A package for Natasha. You didn't even know that a place like this could receive packages.

You leave it on the table and when Natasha returns from her run, she greets you as she always does, with a pat on the cheek and her head resting on yours, you smile at her and offer her tea, when Natasha sits down next to you, she notices the box and her expression darkens as she reads that it's a package for her.

She doesn't seem to want to open it, and you can tell by the way she looks at it, as if it's cursed. You can also tell that she doesn't want to open it in your presence, so without being asked, you excuse yourself by saying that you have to go to the bathroom.

You give her a few minutes, and when you come out of the bathroom, the package is open and Natasha is nowhere to be found.

You try not to look too hurt by her sudden absence. You start to read the new gardening book that Natasha recently bought for you —after hearing you say that you wanted to have a hobby like hers about fixing things, she suggested gardening— Natasha also bought you some gardening tools, but you haven't started yet.

Natasha shows up a few hours later. You notice that she's gone for a drive, and she greets you as she always does, apologizing for leaving without telling you, but not explaining where she went. You don't ask any questions anyway.

"I want to stay here forever…" Natasha says suddenly in the night as you lie in bed, ready to sleep.

You blink and look at her with big eyes. You don't know why she said that, but deep down you feel like you know. You smile at her and reach for her hand to squeeze it into yours. It's the first time you've made contact. And Natasha seems both surprised and delighted.

You breathe and she leans forward, for a moment everything stops for you and you are about to push yourself back when her forehead touches yours.

"I want to plant poppies…" You whisper, your eyes closed as Natasha rests her forehead against yours and you feel her thumb caress the back of your hand.

She lets out a soft laugh.

"I'll get the seeds tomorrow…"

You're finishing Natasha's pancakes when you hear the door open and turn to see her come in. She has a paper bag in her hands and a silly grin on her face. You're already serving her pancakes when Natasha greets you in her usual way. You pour her coffee and she puts the paper bag on the table.

Natasha finishes her first pancake and you finish a page of the book you're reading when you hear the sound of a car pulling up outside. Natasha immediately moves and you follow. You look out the window and notice Natasha's tense shoulders slump slightly and her expression becomes somber and tired.

She lets out a sigh as she turns to look at you, and you look at her in a way that seems to hurt her.

The two of you walk out to find Captain America —Steve Rogers— in civilian clothes. He's got the whole soldier thing going on with his hands in his pockets and his chest puffed out as he looks at Natasha and then back at you. He seems to be smiling in embarrassment.

“Romanoff.”  

Steve Rogers' voice is cheerful and firm as he moves forward to close the distance. He looks at you in a way that makes you feel shy. He seems kind of cute with that bright, friendly smile, but also kind of pretentious with all that attitude. You don't introduce yourself even though he does, and he seems to understand your silence because he doesn't push, instead he looks at Natasha and you see them exchanging silent glances.

You don't know what they say, but you can feel it.

Natasha says goodbye that afternoon and promises she'll be back soon. She makes a lot of promises. She promises she'll finish fixing the fence, bring you more books on gardening, find you new movies, get you a decent video player, and come back to watch your flowers grow.

Natasha kisses you as you see her off at the door.

She holds your face in her hands, caresses your cheeks with her thumbs, and her soft lips press against yours. Natasha kisses you tenderly. She closes her eyes as her forehead meets yours, forcing you to open your mouth with a thumb pressed against your chin, pushing her tongue into your mouth and only pulling away when Steve Rogers clears his throat loudly enough to annoy Natasha.

"Please don't run away again."

Her look is a plea and you nod. You give her a short, soft kiss on the lips. Natasha smiles at you and says goodbye with a touch on your cheek.

It's been almost three months. Almost three months since Natasha Romanoff got into Steve Rogers' car and drove off without much explanation. You discovered that the paper bag she left on the table were the seeds of the poppies you mentioned you wanted to plant, so you did. And indeed, the flowers had just bloomed.

You planted not only poppies, but other wildflowers that could grow in cold climates. Yes, you did your research and all that. You learned that you liked gardening, so you started to put more effort into it, so much so that you started a small vegetable garden as well.

It's a sunny and cold day, the wind isn't as annoying as other days, so you go outside to examine your flowers, happy and proud that they are blooming beautifully.

And then the sleek black sports car pulls up on the dirt road in front of the cabin. You watch as Natasha gets out of the car with a smile on her face, a large bag in her hand, hanging from her back as she walks over to you.

"You have beautiful flowers."

You straighten up, your hands covered in dirt and your face flushed from the time you spent outside in the cold. Natasha wraps her arms around you and you bury your head in her shoulder. The leather of her jacket sticks to your skin and you squirm in the embrace, but Natasha just laughs.

You walk into the cabin with Natasha. She kisses you sweetly after you wash the dirt off your hands. And she murmurs against your lips how much she's missed you as you sigh between kisses.

"I can start fixing the fence…"

She mumbles, moving to the closet to get her toolbox when you interrupt her, your fingers tightening on the sleeve of her jacket and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow.

Natasha turns to you again, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you back in for a deep kiss. You sigh in her arms and shudder as her tongue slips into your mouth, Natasha’s hands tighten on your waist and she leans down, pushing her face onto yours as she kisses you in an intense and hungry way.

“I’m going to repair the fence…” Natasha mentions with a goofy smile on her lips as she pulls away, leaving you dizzy and slightly hazy. “I swear. I have time for it. I’ll stay here with you.”

Natasha slides her hands down your face and kisses you again. It’s just a peck on your lips and you smile at her as she pulls away to get her tools.

“I’ll build you a mailbox too. Bucky Barnes said he wanted to send you letters…” She scoffs as she walks out the door.

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART NINE

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.1K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, breaking bones, torture, murder, violence, weapon use

A/N ✦ Hiiii I'm back lol sorry it took so long for an update life has been HECTIC!!!

PART EIGHT »»» Series Masterlist

A loud crack echoed through the large room, the sound of a man following after it. 

“One more time, who the fuck do you work for.” Bucky hissed.

He towered above one of the men who had shot at you. Sam managed to catch both of the men after their vehicle had crashed. While Bucky was busy with you, Sam had brought them to one of the empty warehouses Bucky owned near the coast. 

“Fuck you.”, the man croaked back.

Another crack sounded, and the man paled, throwing up from the pain soon after. Bucky had broken all his fingers, one by one, for refusing to answer his questions. They were all bent at odd angles, rendering the man's hands useless. 

Bucky’s hand fisted in the man's hair and yanked his head back to stare at him. 

“You realize you still have ten toes, right? I will break each fucking one of them if you don’t tell me who sent you after my girl and I.”

The man's eyes filled with terror.

“Brock, Brock Rumlow.”

Bucky released his head and turned to leave. Nodding to Sam as he departed, the aforementioned man moved from his spot where he was leaning up against the wall, hand reaching to his side for his holster.

“Wait–No, I gave you the fucking information, you bastard!”

The man's shouts drowned out as Bucky shut the door behind him. A loud pop sounded a few seconds later; he was unfazed by it.

His pocket buzzed. Reaching for his phone, a grin lit up his face as he saw a text message from you.

Y/N: Would movie night tomorrow work?

Bucky: Of course, sweetheart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You paced in your entryway.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. Besides, you look great.”, Nat said from her spot on the couch. 

You were nervous about your second date with Bucky. It wasn’t that you were afraid of being shot at again, but it was the fact that you were already beyond smitten with this man and didn’t want anything to ruin it. 

You fidgeted with the hem of the grey T-shirt you wore. You had dressed in pajamas for your movie night, texting Bucky beforehand and making him agree to also wear pajamas. You wore your favorite pajama pants, silky pink ones adorned with tiny purple and red hearts. Your feet were tucked into a pair of fuzzy purple slippers a similar shade as the socks you wore. 

A knock sounded from your front door, almost making you jump. Turning toward the door you hurried to open it. Flinging the door open you looked Bucky up and down. He was dressed in tartan pajama pants, a tight white t-shirt, and black slippers. You smiled up at him happy he was already wearing his pajamas so you didn’t feel out of place. 

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your bag from its hook next to the door.

Looking over you shoulder you called to Nat, “See you later!”

“See you guys.”, she waved at you, not looking away from her show. 

You exited your apartment, locked the door, and walked down the hallway hand in hand with Bucky.

The two of you made small talk on the way to his home, the trip going quickly. Pulling into his driveway Bucky threw his car into park and jumped out of the car hurrying to open your door for you. 

“Thank you.”, you blushed, smiling at the tall man.

“Of course sweetheart.”

The two of you ventured into his home, Bucky leading you down a hallway you hadn’t been down yet. Entering the room at the end of the hall your eyes widened. Bucky had a fucking theatre in his house, because of course he did. You thought to yourself that if you too were rich you would totally have a theatre as well.

Several rich black-leather chairs formed rows of four, the screen took up the entire wall in front of them, a popcorn machine popped in the corner, and there was a small countertop in the back of the room covered in different snacks and drinks. 

“This is so cool.”

Bucky felt his chest swell with pride, happy to have so far made you happy.

“Wanna grab some snacks and then we can pick a movie?”

“Yes!”, you beamed at him.

Hurrying towards the counter you pondered over which snacks to grab before selecting (you favorite drink) and a bag of (your favorite chips). Bucky grabbed a package of Reese’s Pieces and a bottle of water. 

You moved towards the popcorn machine before Bucky shooed you away, telling you to sit down and he would get the popcorn for the both of you. 

Plopping into one of the plush chairs you sighed, relaxing back into it and hitting the button to raise the footrest, propping up your feet. 

“How much butter or salt do you wat?”, Bucky asked from the popcorn cart.

“I’m not picky you can do whatever.”

A few minutes later and Bucky sat down beside you, setting the bucket of popcorn on the arm rest between your seats. The popcorn glistened in the low lights of the theatre room, it was saturated in butter, practically marinating in it. 

You let out a laugh.

“What?”, Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

“Nothing it’s just, I didn’t realize when I said do whatever you want that you were going to drown the popcorn.”, you giggled out. 

He chuckled along with you.

“Hey this is the best way to eat it.”

“Oh whatever. How can you eat shit like this and still like a Greecian statue?”

“So you think I look like a Greecian statue?”, a wide smile plastered his face and he cheekily began flexing his large arms. 

A blush lit up your face and heat pooled in your stomach as you stared at his bulging biceps, almost salivating all over yourself. 

��He laughed at your bright face. 

“What movie a-are we watching?”, you stuttered out. 

“What do you want to watch?”

Bucky, as it turned out, had never seen Interstellar, which you had as one of your top five movies, so you very easily talked him into watching it. At the end of the movie you were a sobbing mess and Bucky sat with his mouth open taking a few minutes to process everything that had just happened in the movie. 

After you had calmed down and Bucky had regained his composure he asked if you’d wanted to stay the night again, an obvious yes.

“Yes of course, but I do have to be at work at eight in the morning.”, you frowned. 

“So what? I can take you to work.”

“You don’t have to–”

Bucky cut you off, cupping your face in his hand. 

“I don’t have to, but I want to Y/N.”

You could have swooned, instead opting for leaning in and softly kissing him on the lips, pulling away and murmuring a quiet thank you. 

The two of you moved upstairs to Bucky's large bed, and quickly fell asleep in each others arms.

PART TEN COMING SOON

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

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[mxtantrights]

mob!bucky has a bone to pick

a/n: something short and sweet (yes it's stemming from that album) for the bucky girlies of which I am one. Deep in the trenches of 2am-3am I scroll on this site and try to gather fics like I'm a hunter gatherer. anyways this is just an idea, if you wanna see more send in something to the inbox!

this story is gonna feature things like: the mob, antiquated ideas of marriage, mentions of 'ownership', anti-feminist treatment of women. if that isn't your fancy you don't have to force it!

bucky barnes x fem!reader (exes to lovers)

He wasn't supposed to see you. You had tried your best to make sure of that. You were in baggy clothes, you hair was tied back and a hood covered the top of your head. The crowds of people did help to blend you in. Somewhat.

So here you are, trying to see what this asshole is up to. Not Bucky, no he's not the one you'd refer to like that. Idiot maybe. Stalker, if you were feeling mean. But not asshole.

No, that right is reserved for Brock. The piece of shit that had offered to marry you first when you father put out the offer. Offer. You can't believe this is your life.

You know who you father is. You've known since you were a little girl. The guards. The meetings. The constant sweeps for surveillance.

But you had told him that you wanted no parts in it. As soon as you were eighteen you took all the money you made during summer jobs and moved out. You went to a local college, got your degree, and got your first job all on your own.

Life had other plans apparently.

Apparently your dad's business was in need of a merger. Something about acquiring more men, more property, etc. And that's where Brock came in. He was willing to give up some of his earnings in order to trade up in his positions. No he wouldn't be a boss or even an underboss. A move like that is more complicated than a business deal.

He would be a husband. A husband in waiting. He wasn't willing to go about things the right way, so he has to be a rat about it. Marry you and hope that something happens to your dad. Or make it happen himself.

You happen to be one of two first born daughters in this business. And you weren't even in this business. Brock must have struck out with Monica.

There he is. Brock. He's sitting across from one of his associates in a luncheonette. That smug asshole has some sort of marriage contract with your name on it and is acting none the wiser.

You get up from the public bench and head into the luncheonette. You take a booth on the other side. The way you sit, Brock has his back to you but you see him clearly.

The waiter gives you a water and a few minutes with the menu. It's not like it mattered, really. You'll just order whatever tea they have and a side of whatever pie they have. You weren't here for the food.

Time seems to move slow. Brock and whoever he's talking to seem chummy. Joking about this and that. Probably not even talking business at all.

A plate is placed down in front of you. Then a mug. You start to thank the waiter when you realize you hadn't ordered yet. You look down at the pie. Apple. And you look over at the mug, the string hung over the side with the flavor label.

You take the label into your hands and turn it over.

Peppermint. Your favorites.

He slides into the booth all stealth and cool like. It ticks you off just a little bit. You take him in. His hair is less neat looking that usual. A black zip up jacket is what he's wearing which isn't part of his day-to-day.

"What's the plan, huh?" he asks.

You roll your eyes, "I don't know what you're-"

"Why are you following Rumlow?" he cuts you off.

"Why are you following me?" you assert right back.

He tilts his head to the side. As if to tease you or test you. You're not sure. But something on his face is smug. Like he thinks you should know why he's been following you.

You give up first.

"I'm gonna slip into the kitchen and put arsenic in his food." you answer.

Bucky cracks a smile at that. A sight, you're told, is very rare. You're not sure you believe that when you can count on both hands how many times he's smiled in your presence.

"How will you know it's his food?" he asks.

"I'll pay off the staff. You ask a lot of questions., you know that?"

"I'll like to know the details when I'm an accomplice to a crime."

Your eyebrow raises, "You're helping?"

"Brock's had it coming. I figure this is like karma or something." he answers.

Then he pushes the plate of pie close to you. You grab the rolled up napkin and slide out the fork. With the fork in your hand you stab a piece and bring it to your mouth.

"Anything in particular he did?" he asks.

You chew and shake your head.

"He made a deal to take my hand in marriage without my knowledge."

At your answer, Bucky goes rigid. Like he's seen a ghost. You put your fork down. And you take him in now. Fully. Past the all black attire of the night. There's dark circles under his eyes. His lip healing from a cut.

"Bucky?"

"Let me do it." he speaks.

You sit back in the booth. You couldn't let him do this for you. If you did you would be starting something in this business. You'd owe him too. Not that you think Bucky would ever use this against you.

You can't let him help you. If he helps you, you're in this for good. No way out.

But you have a feeling that Bucky's not really asking. You know him. That's what you get for secretly dating him when the both of you were teenagers. He'd go to war for you.

You can't let him do that. Not for you.

[scarfacemarston]

Could you maybe probably sort of kind of pretty please with a cherry on top write a Natasha x reader? Wlw preferred but nbreader is cool too. Maybe like a prank fic? I love pranks so much they bring so much serotonin into my veins 💋💋💋

Natasha x F! Reader prank people

Warnings: LOTS of cussing from Rumlow because that's just the type of guy he is. Takes place before the Hydra reveal. You loved a lot of things about Natasha. Who wouldn’t love the woman? You were the luckiest gal in the world to call her your partner. You loved how many layers she had to her and felt honored to see the softer, more playful side of her. Not many people knew that she had a penchant for pranks. It was quite simple for her to play pranks on people and let chaos reign because no one ever suspected it was the severe and stoic Black Widow.

Sometimes, she would prank people and give the most mischievous and playful smile -reserved only for you.

Well, there came a time when you wanted to join in. After all, it was a fun new way for you two to bond as a couple. Natasha quirked an eyebrow at your request but accepted it anyway.

Some of her favorite targets included Isaac Murphy, Brock Rumlow, and the IT guy from the 7th floor of the Shield Headquarters.

“You remember that I like to play the long game here, right? No salt in the sugar container or pie in the face antics. That’s child’s play. No, I want them to be either very confused, suffering or both. You can handle that, can’t you?” Natasha said with a quick of her lips. You scoffed.

“Of course I can! I have some ideas of my own, you know.” You defended yourself. Natasha crossed her arms. “Well this I have to hear.” “Well, I hate Brock Rumlow, too. I have a simple, but obnoxious prank on him, but he might tear up the room.” You warned.

“Hm, if it’s too awful, I’ll have to hear his loud mouth whining about it. Save your best idea for him to make it worth it.” Natasha thought aloud.

“Okay, will do. This Murphy guy, you have his email and number, right? Why not sign him up for the most famous mega church we can find? Joel Olsteen or Kenneth Copland, like that!.”

“He’s suspicious. I’m not sure what is off about him, but I will find out. But, not a bad idea, but I think we can do worse.”

“I’m getting there! What about various political campaigners? We could do Obama, Romney, Kennedy and even more local politicians. I receive those emails and texts daily despite donating to a Green Party campaign six years ago. That’s just one! Imagine how horrible three or more would be!” You enthused.

Natasha grinned. “Not bad, but I really want him to suffer.” “I was thinking we could give his name to various military recruiters? ” You suggested. “I’ll suggest his name to a multi-level marketing group so they can try to recruit him, too. Not bad for your first prank.” Nat said, hugging you from behind. “I think we can do even better.” Nat muttered in your ear.

“Okay, for Rumlow - I was thinking we trick him into thinking there’s somebody who takes his desk during the night shift. Uses his chair, desk, everything.” You said, a grin curling on your features. “Hm, sounds promising. Go on” She murmured. “Well, I was thinking we move his stuff around every day before he comes in. Maybe lay a crossword puzzle or newspapers scattered in the morning that look read? Move his pens, and everything else!” You laughed. Natasha nodded in approval. I think we should leave half-eaten bags of chips, half-drunk water bottles, and candy wrappers so he thinks someone has been eating there. That will get him. He’s quite possessive with his stuff.” Nat suggested. You gasped. “Oh, he’s going to hate that.” “Yep. And to end it up, we can have multiple files on his computer that look like they’re from Murphy, Jack Rollins and Sitwell. All of them sometimes work the night shifts.” Nat laughed as she turned to face you. ‘Imagine the fights!”

“I’ll be sure to tape them, don’t you worry, love,” Natasha said, tapping your nose.

It wasn’t long until Natasha invited you to have lunch with her at a SHIELD gathering. It was a relaxed affair where nothing intelligence-related was discussed. A few other SHIELD members invited their partners or children as well.

Natasha smirked as she took her seat next to you and placed a plate of sandwiches and milkshakes on the table for you to share.

“Might as well have something to eat while we enjoy the show. Murphy looks like he’s going to have a mental breakdown. His phone has been going off all day to the point that Rumlow threatened to break it, and Maria Hill threatened to take disciplinary action."

At that moment, you heard the buzz of a cellphone receiving a notification…and another…and another.

“They won’t leave me alone!” Murphy whined.

“Shut that damn phone up, or I’m smashing it. I don’t give a fuck about any “disciplinary action.”

“It’s the number, you idiot. Not the phone!” Murphy said, raising his voice.

“Then change the fucking number!” Rumlow raised his voice.

“I can’t! I have too many accounts associated with it! I’d have to start all over!” Murphy whined.

Rollins tromped over, glaring at Murphy. “

All of us are plotting your death, Murphy.” Rollins snapped as he pulled Rumlow by the shoulder away.

“Come on, let’s get you a beer.” Rollins muttered.

“I need more than a damn beer,” Rumlow muttered, stomping off. Soon, the noise was annoying, even the two of you.

Finally, Maria Hill herself made her way over, snatching the phone from Murphy’s hand. “You’re on thin ice, kid,” Hill said, pointing at his face.

Murphy sat, slumping into his chair. “It’s not my fault!” he whined.

You and Natasha exchanged looks as you slipped on your milkshake, stealing one of Natasha’s fries.

“I have to admit, I was close to breaking his phone myself.” Nat admitted.

“Yeah, this might have backfired on us.”

“But it is great to see them at each other’s throats. It distracts them from bothering Steve and I,” Natasha said, stopping your hand from stealing another fry.

“I could have bought you fries, you know.” Nat laughed.

“But I so enjoy stealing yours!” You smiled.

~~~~~ A week later, you received a text from Natasha. “Calling you in a second. Need you to hear this. Need to be silent, though.” “Ok” And with that, your phone began to ring. You picked up immediately only to hear shouting and cursing in the background…from a very familiar voice. It was most certainly Rumlow who had become fed up with the idea of someone “stealing his shit in his space.”

“If I find out which piece of shit is using my desk, I’m going to dismember them! Slowly!” Rumlow bellowed.

You heard a second voice. “No one sits there! Calm down there, alpha male. It’s your space.” Rollins snarked.

“Then where the fuck is this shit coming from? You work the night shift! Why are there files from you, Murphy and Sitwell? “ he shouted.

“Yeah, Over there. That’s how I know no one sits there. I don't know how they got that, Rumlow. I didn't do it." Rollins defended.

“Where did this come from? Or this?” - the sound of objects being thrown came through the phone.”

“Fine, ask Murphy!”

You hear another voice in the background.

“That asshole is on thin ice. If it’s him, good luck finding the body.” Rumlow growled.

“It wasn’t me! I quit working nights last month!” Murphy squeaked.

“That leaves Sitwell, then.” You heard Rollins speak up.

You heard Rumlow growl. “Damn it. That nerd is higher on the ladder than we are…but how about we pay the dweeb a visit anyway?” You heard Rumlow’s voice fade in the background.

You heard Natasha’s voice. “I hope you’re proud of yourself and the chaos you caused,” Nat said, snickering.

“Oh, so proud! I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this, though.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I can handle a few mens’ fragile egos and I can drown them out pretty well. I have to say, you impressed me with your pranks. I might need to watch out…but just know that any pranks you play on me, I’ll get you back with a vengence.” Nat warned.

“….. okay, then it will only be fun ones then! A surprise room of puppies, or baklava randomly appearing in places.” You appeased. Nat gave one of her rare laughs.

“I can live with that. Let’s give the boys a break for now, but we are definitely going to prank them again. Maybe we’ll go after new targets. I have to go. Dinner at Demo’s tonight, same time as usual?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Love you, Tasha.”

“Love you, Y/N”.

[ronearoundblindly]

Day Eighty-Three (1)

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

10 A.M., an It Had To Be You tale (see previous or series)

Summary: A joint meeting between AmCaps and the heads of four other major companies goes about as horribly as possible...or is it exactly as you expected? Either way, Steve messes up big time.

Warnings for (hi, I'm Ro) arguments, the absolute shittiness of misogyny, degrading use of petnames, language, social idjit!Steve (he honest-to-god tried his best but whoops). MINORS DNI. If this is not to your taste, please feel free to search lighter stories here. WC 2571

Sadly, the whole thing would have gone better if Tony Stark showed up.

Stark doesn’t do meetings like this though, and you may never bother with one again. You may have no need.

Clammy hands grip the leather spine of your monogrammed portfolio, comfortingly thick with the employee files you’ve brought as ammunition. This is a battle, no doubt in your mind, but Steve acts as if it’s any other day. To him, it probably is.

This is Steve’s fourteenth quarterly get-together of entities using the stabilizing, hydrostatic, insulated, electro-neutral, lead-dense (aka S.H.I.E.L.D) modules which American Capsules supplies. You’ve worked here for twelve of those but never been in the room.

The room feels as big as a concert hall with you an ant in the back pew.

Since the meeting is on your turf, you and Steve wait till the others arrive, your boyfriend highly aware of your nerves but without a clue as to why.

You’ve been preparing for this far longer than the not-quite three months you’ve held the title of co-CEO. It’s important to understand what is really happening between these companies and who exactly is to blame. It was also important to tell Steve nothing until you knew all the facts, and you didn’t until the phone call you just got off three minutes ago.

That’s not enough time. He’ll have to enjoy the show like everyone else,

Steve loosens his skinny black tie and repeats that you shouldn’t worry. He can take the lead. All the stats are printed in the binders laid in front of six chairs around the oblong table. He touches you, reassuringly he believes, at exactly the wrong moment.

Justin Hammer saunters through the door, clocking the intimate hand on your arm when Steve leans forward to whisper, “what’s wrong?” The outrageously pompous pumpkin sucks his teeth, winking at you, and spins to moonwalk closer. Hammer even goes so far as to cup your other elbow with an over-tanned palm.

“Peach, you’re gorgeous. Don’t ever change,” he flirts, damn well knowing that you aren’t the assistant anymore but are dating the man right beside him. “Hey, pal, how’s it going? Lookin’ sharp.”

Justin wheels the nearest chair away from the conference table and plunks down, lounging against the high-backed seat, swinging his feet up onto the adjacent chair. He may as well be at the beach.

He snaps, hand landing in a finger gun pointed at you—or your backside, more accurately, where he’s also staring.

“I like mine sweet and dark. Thanks. ‘Preciate you.”

There’s no elaboration. You’re just the coffee bitch to him.

What’s wrong, you want to tell Steve, what’s wrong is that asshole is only twenty-five percent of the shit I have to deal with this morning!

Before you or Steve can respond, however, the other three arrive in quick succession.

Darren Cross of Pym Technologies might actually be the least offensive of the bunch. His smile is polite and jovial, he greets Steve simply and shakes your hand, and he smacks Hammer’s calf hard enough to make a sound as he passes by.

He, unlike Justin, brought a briefcase, keeping up the illusion that he participates in the company he’s here to represent. Cross probably does still participate, considering he was only promoted recently after Hank Pym retired.

Aldrich Killian is undoubtedly (one of) the brains behind his think tank, AIM, and Brock Rumlow is undoubtedly smug, being a lowly former associate at Stark Industries, now an executive for the Roxxon Energy Corporation.

Each of them has skin in each other’s game; throughout the history of American Capsules’ products, innovations have been shared between them to either create suitable shipping containers or to have their products shipped via those containers. They’ve quite literally shielded their collective work.

It’s a symbiotic relationship.

It’s a circle jerk.

Killian and Rumlow do not bother to walk around and say hello. They fake niceties and unbutton their suit jackets to sit on the other side of the table.

Noticeably, none of them chose either ‘head’ of the table. No one was willing to take a position of power equal to Steve in his own house. Your boyfriend seems to interpret this as acquiescence of some sort—proof that they’ll blindly respect what and who Steve himself respects,—and then Steve wrongly decides to gently run his hand the rest of the way down your arm, his fingers curling to lift your limb until the very last second.

He made it look like you were reaching out for him, like you were a scared child in need of support. You are, in a sense, but he didn’t have to fucking advertise it to these men.

Steve doesn’t make mistakes. He did that on purpose. Maybe he meant to establish some sort of claim to you? To stop them objectifying you? Whatever they do now is solely out of respect or fear of him though, not you.

You’re frozen in place—in anger, truth be told—until Justin drops his feet to the floor dramatically.

“Indulge me, sweetcheeks.” He winks again. “I’m thirsty.”

Doing your very best Vanna White impression, you step back and sweep an arm out toward the drinks on the side server. “Help yourself,” you say with a smile.

It’s only because Justin is an idiot that he misses the dig.

Open to the page he wants, Steve tosses his binder to the wood surface, the slap of lamination to varnish attracting the attention of all the men, and takes his seat at the end.

You waltz to the other side, a clear and distinct separation between you and Steve, equals in life and work but opposites today.

“Shall we wait for Stark,” Rumlow growls in his low voice.

“Not necessary,” Steve allows. “If he shows, he shows. Let’s get to it.”

Steve begins, pointing out a few key concerns. Since you already know all of this, he doesn’t look to you while speaking, but neither do the other men when they respond.

They talk over you as if you’re not there, being blowhards and patting each other on the back for ’surviving in this economy.’ You let them go on. Steve gets nowhere. He gets excuses. He gets parroted promises.

Justin dismisses insufficient specs by saying he’s just a pretty face. He leaves all the numbers to nerds. He laughs about how he’ll have to check with his people about the nitty-gritty details, but he’s sure it’ll work out.

He stands to get his own black coffee, plopping three cubes of sugar in the chrome mug.

Rumlow barks out that shoddy Hammer tech nearly sank a Roxxon oil rig.

Justin feigns ignorance of the incident.

Killian uselessly offers a fix for that, at a price.

Darren argues that Pym has followed their agreement with AmCaps to the letter.

Everybody is fucking lying to themselves.

The shouting continues, escalating until it looks like Killian and Rumlow are close to throwing punches, though you’ve missed why those two are at odds.

Finally, Steve rises, stretching his hands out in peace.

“Everyone, calm down! Take a breath. Have some water. Sit.”

He’s stressed, clearly, defaulting to conditioned behavior which means Steve then looks right at you with a pleading expression.

Wrong again.

Darren lets out a huff and nods at you. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

“I’ll take a glass,” Rumlow adds with a tap of the table in your direction.

Killian sighs an unmistakable ‘loser’ to Rumlow, and suddenly, the fight is back on.

Time to lock and load.

You cough and stand, flipping open the portfolio in front of you, adjusting your hips in your pencil skirt with a tug but only for affect. You know exactly what draws the attention of these men.

The room goes mostly quiet.

“Water. For the table,” you deadpan command Steve.

Picking up your copy of the report set, you clear your throat.

“I’m afraid Rogers has given you all the impression this is a negotiation. It’s not.” You slide the binder to the center. “It’s a courtesy. A courtesy which none of you deserve.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Rumlow gruffly asks Steve.

“I’m talking about unpaid balances and unfulfilled orders. I’m talking about product tampering and verified illegal activity that hereby voids your contracts, effective immediately.”

Darren shoots out of his seat. “You can’t do that!” He turns to Steve. “She can’t do that, right?”

Steve, however, is blanched with shock. “Wait, I—“

“Each of your agreements with us—“ you barrel over his protest “—contains a morality clause which was broken by Hammer Tech when they conspired to produce a subpar protective lining and pad Roxxon gas sales in the region, unwittingly causing unsafe storage at a Stark factory in Galmira because the entire operation no longer followed American Capsules specifications—your specifications for transporting your own products.

“Pym,” you continue with force, “failed to produce compact enough items for the containers they ordered and instead chose to resell the regulated lining materials for a premium.” You toss a packet of papers down to Darren. “In your infinite wisdom, this also means you violated multiple Customs laws by forging shipping weights and ignoring safety guidelines.”

Killian puts a bejeweled hand over his vested heart. “Cross, you didn’t?”

“Which brings me to fucking AIM,” you grit.

“Precious,” Steve breaths with a warning tone, but you can’t stop. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Because who the hell do you think created the new formula for a light-weight, lower-cost, shitty lining?” You take such pleasure in stabbing a finger in his direction then flinging stapled proof across the table. “Evidence. Evidence of all of this provided by multiple sources. And you were warned…”

Now comes the really fun part.

You spread out eight folders.

“…warned by Roxxon’s own Betty Ross, Wanda Maximoff, and Kamala Khan. By Hammer’s Monica Rambeau and Kate Bishop. AIM’s doctors, Christine Palmer and Helen Cho, and finally, Pym Tech’s Mary Jane Watson—none of whom, I’m excited to say, work for you anymore.”

There’s a stunned heft to the frigidly controlled air in the large room. The florescent lights overhead buzz harshly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Killian rasps.

“Put your bitch back on her leash,” Rumlow bites to Steve.

“Don’t speak to her like—“

“Wait a minute,” Justin snorts, “I’m confused.”

“Your nerds will explain it to you once you crawl back into your hole.”

“Prec—” Steve snips in alarm but catches himself. He looks panicked and blind-sided, which he would be. You kept their complicity from him until you had everything you needed to invoke the morality clause.

You turn to the junior CEO for Pym Tech. “Expect a call from Hope Van Dyne. She has a few thoughts on Cross Technologies.”

Called out for his as-yet-unannounced rebranding of the company, Darren breaks, and he breaks viciously, vaulting the three chairs between you.

“Fucking cunt,” he screams through bared teeth.

Steve launches past the skittering seats and makes it to Cross milliseconds before he can intercept you.

“I didn’t make you lie, cheat, and steal,” you screech. “You screwed yourselves!”

Killian straightens his lapels and smooths his shirt nervously. “Surely, we can come to some arrangement.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Hammer adds.

Rumlow simply walks out with a shout of “you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

Steve slams Cross into the window, an ominous rattle shaking the frame, the cheek of the struggling man whining as it smears along the glass. When Darren still tries to hiss something else at you, Steve pins him against the wall instead, a forearm choking off any other choice words the bald man might offer.

“This meeting is over,” Steve grunts, pushing at Cross until the man settles.

“Right,” you sigh, keeping your voice as level as you can. “Gentlemen, I’d say get your houses in order, but I’m afraid the furniture is about to be repoed.”

Killian runs his hand through his styled hair. “Think I’ll leave you to talk some sense into your precious partner. Good day.”

You’ll never forgive Steve for blurting your private nickname out in front of the worst possible people to know it, but this is how you chose to play the meeting. You knew there’d be…pushback.

The AIM founder takes a lazy sip. “Thanks for the water, Rogers.” He taps his pinky ring several times on the glass, a hollow, high ting lingering after each strike, and then Aldrich heads for the door.

Steve releases Darren despite the wild look in his eyes, but Cross would be a fool to make any move except to leave. He gathers his things and slips through the exit before it fully closes.

The only one remaining is Justin Hammer, and he tosses out his arms with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Kitten, come on. This is crazy. Isn’t this crazy? We’re all friends here. Let’s just chill, relax, and work this out. How ‘bout a drink?” More snaps. More finger guns. “You want coffee? Alright, perfect. Love ya. We’ll have coffee.” The man fidgets, sweat visible on his lip and forehead when he turns in the window’s light and approaches the drink cart.

“Sure thing, Justin. I take my coffee like I take my women—“ you smile “—from you.”

Okay, that part just felt good.

“That—” Hammer’s brow raises and he wipes down his jaw with one hand “—now that was uncalled for.”

Steve cuts in, a solid dismissal in the form of “I said ‘the meeting’s over.’”

“Oh, boy. You—well, you better watch…This ain’t over.” Hammer makes a fuss of buttoning his jacket again, puffing out his chest, then walking off even more empty-handed than he arrived.

The enormous, heavy door shuts slowly on buzzing, bright silence.

After a pause, Steve heaves out a breath.

“That went well.”

Sarcasm is not one of his strengths.

You’re not sure what you expected. You stand as a block of granite decor in the corner you retreated to once shit hit the fan.

It was the right decision. This was the right thing to do, the moral thing. It’s in the goddamn contract.

Though physically he shows no signs of duress—Steve used very little of his actual muscle to subdue Darren,—he hangs his head, stepping to your spot at the table to look at what you brought in. After a pause, Steve rubs his temple like it aches.

“I…I have no words,” he mutters, tone inscrutable.

You don’t care if he has words or not. You only have to wait until they’re out of the building.

“I don’t understand. What just happened?”

The door opens to reveal a bored-looking Topaz.

“Boss, Stark sent a catered lunch over. Where should they set up? It’s shawarma.”

“I don’t care,” Steve bursts. “Just take it down to R&D or something!”

That’s your cue to leave.

You shut your mostly-empty portfolio and tuck it to your chest.

A hand wraps around your wrist, unyielding.

Steve’s stormy blue eyes are felt more than seen, his hold tightening, trying to inch you closer, but you rip away.

“I’ll send you a memo,” you tell Steve without looking directly at him. “Keep those. I have copies.”

Fast as you can in heels and a skirt, you hurry after Topaz and past the food, fleeing first to your office and then to your own home.

[Day 83: 6pm]

[tender first aid drabble; Big Girls Don't Cry]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Ahhhhh! Next up is how Steve makes it up to you...or at least starts to...😱😵‍💫🥴

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@bigtreefest @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

@fallinallinmendes @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall - Who's the Most Alien of Them All?

Pairing: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki, Thor, Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Frigga, Heimdall Rating: T Words: 3229 Content: 2nd person, kidnapping, chloroform, manipulation, soulmate AU, Hydra!SHIELD at work, set during/post Avengers 1 Summary: You'd never thought there was anything strange about your soulmate in the mirror, apart from how handsome he was, but as fate would have it - he's trying to invade New York. Ao3: HERE Notes: I am an absolute sucker for Soulmate AUs so here we are! I'm thinking of using this same AU for some others (Bucky and Steve) but I'm not sure if it'll be in same universe

In this AU, you see your soulmates face as your own reflection~ THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN WORK I accidentally deleted the original post so the read more doesn't work on my own blog 😭

Banners by cafekitsune

Something considered normal would rarely be considered wrong. 

So, registering your soulmate’s image via looking in a mirror at 18 and having a photo snapped had never worried you.

Everyone did it.

It was normal.

It was safe. 

It was how most people found their soulmates, and even then some just didn’t.

This early spring day started as every day usually did. You got up and ready for work, took public transport to the office, and logged in at 9 a.m. 

Lunch came and went, spent with the coworkers you got along with best, all venting about the small annoyances of the morning. You all returned to the office and the afternoon crawled by.

Last minute, your boss asked you to finish a report now rather than tomorrow morning and you waved goodbye to your co-workers with a shrug and a put-upon smile. They’d all been in your position at one time or another. No-one found it strange.

The report dragged on for a few hours and you had no idea why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but your boss was hardly known for his patience. He at least had the decency to stay behind too. 

You sighed and printed a quick copy before knocking on the door to your boss’s office. 

He called out and told you to come in, taking the report when you handed it over. His eyes barely scanned it before he spoke again; “Hey, I know it’s late, but we have a visitor in the conference room. Go keep them company, will you? It will just take a couple of minutes.” 

You bit back the sigh and the roll of your eyes, knowing both could lose you your job. Stupid, tight ass boss. “No problem, boss,” were the words that came out of your mouth, a false smile before you turned and left - heading to the conference room.

You took the liberty of rolling your eyes hard before you plastered the smile back on and pushed the door open. “Hello.” You stepped into the room and held out your hand as you gave your name. “Mr. Dickson is sorry to keep you waiting, but how can I help you?” 

Not the normal sort of client, if a client he was. Most clients showed up in suits or some sort of business attire, but this man wore a black T-shirt, combats, and a jacket certainly not of the suit kind. 

“Brock Rumlow.” He smirked over at you and you saw the way his eyes gave you a once over. Slowly. Urgh. Double ugh when he continued with; “No problem at all, sweetheart. Don’t suppose you could get me a coffee?”  He nodded over to the machine as he eased back into his seat. 

“Of course, sir,” you answered with a smile.

“Feel free to grab yourself one, too. Your boss sent you in here to keep me company, huh?” 

“Something like that, Mr. Rumlow.” The pot only needed warming before you poured two cups and offered him one, taking a seat opposite the man.

“I hope he doesn’t make you stay this late all the time, I hate it when my boss makes me work overtime.” He snorted and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do this, do that, clean up some mess, collect an alien’s soulmate, kill that politician, clean up more mess. Not a day’s rest I tell ya.” 

You nodded politely, staring down at your cup as you fully processed his words. Aliens, soulmates… killing politicians? You didn’t know which was the most out there. “I-’m sorry I’m not sure I follow…” 

He only looked more delighted at your confusion and the way your body had stiffened. “Well, you see, sweetheart, there’s this guy, Loki, who showed up outta nowhere and, see, he talks a big game about taking over the Earth and we figured, seeing as you’re his soulmate, that he might rethink those big ideas if we offer you up instead.” Brock shrugged as if this was just casual conversation and didn’t have you frozen in your seat. “’Course, if that doesn’t work, maybe threatening to harm ya will change his tune. But what do I know about aliens? I’m just part of the STRIKE team.” 

Brock smiled, as though he hadn’t just threatened you or spouted what sounded like absolute bullshit. A beat passed as you stared into the cup in your hands, eyes unseeing. “So why don’t we-” 

He growled angrily as you threw the coffee and the cup containing it at him and jolted to your feet, running for the door, pulling it open-

Your short-lived escape attempt ended when another similarly dressed and built man stepped into view. His hands clamped down on your arms and the panic really set in as you protested and tried to escape. “Let me go!” You kicked and thrashed, hoping the noise might cause your boss to call the cops, but that small slice of hope was soon ripped from you. He appeared from his office, face like thunder. 

“You said this would be quick, hurry up before someone hears this racket.” 

Brock huffed from behind you, fingers sliding into your hair and tugging hard to drag your head back. “We coulda done this the nice way, bitch, but that’s off the table.” He pressed a cloth to your mouth, harder than necessary.

The thought of not breathing hadn’t even crossed your mind before the fumes entered your body and you soon slumped into unconsciousness.

You woke already knowing you weren’t at home. Everything felt off and you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet as you laid on what felt like a bed. You took a shallow breath, trying to remember, but everything before falling asleep stayed fuzzy at the edges. 

You had been to work and… right, your boss had made you stay late and there had been coffee and…

Your eyes snapped open but so far it seemed like you were alone. The edge of the bed wasn’t far from the wall and you hesitated before rolling over. Good. No-one there either and this side of the wall had windows.

You shuffled over to them, eyebrows furrowing at their size. Small and curved at the edges. you slid the blind up to be met with the sight of clouds and uninterrupted sky. 

You scrambled to the edge of the bed and the one door that led in and out of the room. “Hey! Hey!” you yelled, banging on the door, fear skittering through you. How long ago had last night been? What time was it now? Where were you now?

“Quit ya banging!” A stern thump that made the door rattle had you stumbling back and falling down to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re nearly there, no need to get your panties in a twist, bitch.” It sounded like the man you’d met in the office… Brock if you remembered correctly.

He’d certainly changed his tune, but you had thrown coffee at him. Bastard deserved it. 

“Where are we going?!” You had no idea if he would answer, if anyone would. Did it even really matter?

You were to be offered up as some consolation prize to an alien invader in the hopes he might go away. 

You weren’t convinced of the plan; who would change their plans for the mere idea and appearance of their soulmate. You probably wouldn’t if you were in Loki’s position. 

“New York,” came the answer before you heard footsteps leave the door. 

You sank to the bed and flopped back on it, unsure what to do with yourself or for the rest of the flight.

You sat in what had to be some kind of interrogation room, a bit rich considering these guys had kidnapped you. A window made up much of the wall in front of you; the blank expanse of glass left you with nothing to look at but the reflection of your soulmate. It hadn’t changed for several years, but you’d noticed recently his hair had grown longer and it didn’t seem as well kept as before.

The sharp lines of his face had always left you flustered, but now they left you worried at the gaunt paleness that clung to him. What had happened? You couldn’t possibly know, you didn’t even know his name. Well, you hadn’t.

Loki. An alien. An invader. 

You continued to sit silently in the chair, not knowing that an agent and your soulmate’s brother were busy deciding your fate.

“Father will not be pleased. Midgardians are not welcome to our realm and Loki is likely to remain in prison the remainder of her short life.” Thor spoke calmly but firmly. “Besides which, you tell me she is dangerous? A criminal? Why should Asgard take a criminal of Midgard to the golden realm? I do not think our prison is the best place to introduce them.” Thor couldn’t be certain, but he doubted the two would get along from what SHIELD had told him. 

His brother would likely perceive another criminal as a threat or he would keep his guard up. Loki was not one for letting people in so easily. Especially not now. Whether she deserved kindness or not, he doubted Loki would afford her any.

“What if your brother wants to bring her?” 

Thor’s eyes narrowed, giving the agent a sidelong glance. Hardly normal to accept a prisoner’s request… but he did love his brother fiercely - despite his recent tricks. “If,” Thor stressed, “Loki wants to bring her… I may agree,” Thor conceded. But he doubted such a thing would happen. “I will speak with him.” 

Neither you or Thor knew the thin thread by which your fate hung.

The car rumbled through central park, you seated in the back wearing handcuffs and some gag like thing over your mouth that stopped you speaking. You still wore the bright orange scrubs and white shirt as though they’d plucked you from a prison somewhere.

You were free of Rumlow at least, you didn’t even know if the agent driving knew that you hadn’t been picked up from a penitentiary. This new one aligned more with what you imagined an ‘agent’ to be. Black suit, white shirt, sunglasses. Very Men In Black, which, ironic, since you were about to meet two aliens. 

The car came to a stop and you looked out at the people milling around. You only recognised two for sure - one of them being your soulmate. Tony Stark confused you, for a moment, before you recalled his shift into heroism the last few years. 

An equally tall, blond man held your soulmate's arm just above his elbow, so you had to assume this was the brother you’d heard murmurs about. 

Your car door opened and a hand grabbed similarly below your elbow to help you out. Curious eyes turned on you and all you could do was silently, desperately, plead for someone to step in. Someone to take the gag off. You just needed one of them to be curious. 

“Er… I don’t remember any plus ones going out to this little party.” Tony Stark gave the agent at your side a look over the top of his sunglasses, his gaze briefly sliding to you. 

“She’s Loki’s soulmate,” the agent replied, no judgement but not much other emotion in his voice. He turned and marched you towards the pair of aliens. 

“Now, hang on a minute.” A different voice objecting this time and you craned your head behind you to see a blond dressed in a check shirt and a brown jacket. You thought you might have seen his face somewhere before, but you weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders and you couldn’t place him. “She might be a criminal of some kind, but you’re going to send her to another planet?” 

“I’m sorry, Captain, but it seems she may be more dangerous than a Midgardian prison could handle,” Thor answered. “My brother told me he has made many a visit to her on Earth.” Fucking news to you! Your eyes flicked to Loki, brows furrowed, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “I do not think he could have taught her many of the tricks he uses, but SHIELD assures me that they have indeed met before.” 

Now you understood the reason for the gag. Can’t contradict made up bullshit if you can’t speak. You were about to turn a furious gaze on the agent that brought you out of the car when the soft clinking of a chain drew your attention.

Loki curled a chained arm around your waist, grip firm, and tugged your back flush against him. The action forestalled anything you had been about to do or say and you attempted to catch his eye. He ducked his head and you felt the cool press of his own gag to the top of your head. 

The gesture had you stilling in surprise and seemed to only cement the story that Thor had been spun.

You felt eyes on the two of you, studying intently, before Loki’s little stunt seemed to be accepted as proof and preparations began again. You assumed for travel to this Asgard, but how exactly? There weren’t any space ships nearby and you were fairly certain the car you’d arrived in wasn’t about to escape Earth’s atmosphere.

Something with Loki here?

Thor reappeared in your line of sight holding one of two handles of some canister. A blue cube glowed inside, but it didn’t make any more sense than it had a few minutes ago. He caught your eye, his look intense and serious. “Make sure you do not let go or you will be lost to space as Loki was before he came here.” 

You felt like meaning lay beneath the words, something you were supposed to glean from them, but still struggling to process what had happened the last few days you simply nodded and took hold of the other handle. Loki’s hand settled beside yours, overlapping slightly. Unsure if this stemmed from kindness, or an attempt to be sure you didn’t let go. or something else to drag you further into the fiction and lies that had been created around you... Well, you had no way to protest, anyway.

You hoped nobody would spend too long looking for you. Maybe the local police had already told everyone you were dead, covering up the act that you still couldn’t quite understand. 

You wondered if you would ever see Earth again after this.

Your hand unknowingly reached for Loki’s at your waist, gripping tightly in fear of what was to come and in sorrow that you didn’t know what mess you were leaving behind. 

Silence as Thor turned the handle, anticlimactic, but you felt it as your stomach dropped similarly to when an elevator descends too quickly and you were pulled upwards. The blur of colours was almost too much for your eyes to bear as your vision blurred, but soon enough your feet settled on solid ground once more. 

You desperately blinked back the blurring at the edges of your vision to take in the bright gold that lined the room you had landed in. Or maybe an observatory of some kind.

“Welcome home,” a deep but firm voice greeted, your eyes drawn to a man in gold armour whose eyes glowed just as brightly as the metal. He sheathed the sword into the metal stand in front of him and approached the three of you.

You thought you could see something sad in his gaze as he touched the metal on your face, drawing it easily away from you and returning your ability to speak. “I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, miss.” 

“How did you…?” 

“My name is Heimdall and my duty is to watch over the Nine Realms. While I cannot see all at once, and some have managed to evade my sight in the past,” At this he gave Loki a look before returning his gaze to you - eyes softening once more, “I have kept an eye on your journey these past few days.” 

“Heimdall, of what do you speak?” Thor asked in utter confusion. 

But you found the words and breath to speak first. “They lied to you, I’m not an inmate! I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket!” you protested, courage mounting with every word you got out. “I was just doing my job like always and a couple of thugs came to the office and kidnapped me.” A squeeze at your waist reminded you of Loki’s presence and you pulled out of his grip, turning your annoyance on him. “And we have never met! I’ve only ever seen his reflection.” 

“Loki-” Thor growled at his brother, but received only a simple shrug and a look that lacked all remorse in reply. “Why did you-?”

Warm hands took your wrists and distracted you, your gaze drawn by watching Heimdall break the cuffs on your wrists as easily as if they were made of paper. “My apologies, miss. I had no way of letting anyone on Earth know of the misconception.” He didn’t smile, per se, but he seemed genuine and his greeting kind. 

He took a step back and you breathed with relief to finally be free of all your chains. “At least someone knows what’s going on.” Though Loki had to have known too, so why had he lied to Thor and SHIELD? “How exactly am I supposed to get home?” you asked, looking between the two brothers as if scolding children. 

“Heimdall is to use the Tesseract to restore the Bifrost and once it’s fixed, he will be able to send you home. If I can, I will return with you and explain the situation to the Avengers - they’ll be sure to help,” Thor rushed to assure you.

To be fair, they had tried, but Thor had been so convinced by SHIELD… Well, he just seemed to have gotten all mixed up in all of this so you nodded. “So, I’ll just have to wait until the bridge is fixed?” 

Thor smiled brightly this time, like the sun bursting through on a cloudy day. “Yes, just until it is fixed. I’m sure Mother will be happy to provide hospitality.” 

“I see my son is already volunteering me.” Her voice sounded light and happy despite the situation, drifting over from some as yet unseen doorway off to the side. 

“Your Majesty.” Heimdall bowed to her and you quickly followed suit - you didn’t want to end up in the dungeons for however long it would take to fix the Bifrost. 

You straightened up to find her gentle smile turned your way, her beauty and motherly face stealing your breath. “I’m glad to finally meet you, though you are such a familiar sight that I feel as though I know you already.” Her arm settled softly around your shoulders and she started to steer you along the beautiful bridge you stood on. 

Loki huffed behind you and you wondered if he might be embarrassed? No, probably not.

“I’m sorry you were brought here under such circumstances, but welcome to Asgard.” Weird space travel and spy stories coming to life aside, maybe spending some time in the golden city laid out before you wouldn’t be so bad. 

Want to be tagged in future parts or future Loki fic? Go here

[itwasthereaminuteago]

I come bearing slutty thoughts.

Imagine Rumlow coming home from a mission where he got hurt and in that moment, all he could think about is not returning to you.

And ehm... when he gets home, he shows you just how much he loves/needs you 😜

(I hope this won't get flagged 🤣)

Alrighty sweet stuff, it's finally here (so sorry about the wait)! Good god he's a beast isn't he? Happy Sunday to you I hope 😁

|| Kissed by Death ||

Brock Rumlow x female reader

Tags/warnings: just love and (unprotected but on BC) smutty appreciation.

He didn't call, didn't think to let you know he would be back today, tonight. His mind was solely on a single track, focused on his own one mission.

With the water running over your ears when you're washing your hair you don't hear him come in, only gasping as you suddenly feel hands on your waist and the press of his body against your back.

“Brock!” You turn in his arms, not only surprised to see him home but also still almost fully clothed under the spray of water. “You're back, I wasn't expecting-” your warm smile only lasts a moment as you take in the pained look on his face, excitement turning to concern. “Oh my god, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” You ask, scanning his form for anything obvious, your worry only increasing at his continued silence. “Brock, please tell me.”

Out in the field that day he'd almost fucked up. A literal gnats ball hair away from getting his head blown off because he had been too cocky, too sure of himself in a dangerous situation that the near brush with death had knocked sense back into him with the force of a blow from a sledgehammer. It was the sense that he might not be able to come back home to you again if he acted that way again. That vile feeling had twisted in his guts, gripped him hard and mercilessly, the singular thought that he could lose you driving him to you as fast as possible once the mission was over. No other members of his STRIKE team had witnessed what had happened and so didn't question him bursting straight out of the briefing room after giving the absolute bare minimum communication necessary. He felt like he'd taken you for granted up until now. Felt like a failure. He needed you now. Craved your grounding touch, the feel of your soft skin against him, your mouth on his to remind himself how lucky he was to still be alive.

He lifts a hand to your face, cupping the side of it as his bourbon-brown eyes rake slowly over your nakedness as if he's seeing you for the first time. You let out a muffled whimper as he leans in, kissing your lips with such fierce desperation that you're panting hard when he eventually lets you surface for air and guides you both out of the spray of water. You help him when he begins to strip, your fingers slipping over the buckles and snaps as you both work in-between breathless clashes of your mouths to rid him of his tactical gear that is eventually flung into a wet heap in the corner of the bathroom. He's sucking possessive marks into the skin of your neck up with you pinned against the wall as you palm his thick length through his sodden boxers, trying to tug them down at the same time as he's reaching between your thighs with eagerness making you moan at his sure touch.

You touch him too, your hands skimming over his wet skin feeling him flinch slightly as you explore and find the inevitable fresh bruises and cuts with dismay.

“Brock,” you gasp out as his lips cover your face with kisses and he carefully slides his fingers between your folds, gathering your slick arousal and dragging it up and over your sensitive bud. The words almost catch in your throat as you question him.

“Brock, talk to me! What happened? You're scaring me…please!” you grab hold of his wrist to stop him.

He’s gruff but quiet as he finally answers, eyes dark, almost black and you recognise the deep need in that gaze. “Sorry I scared ya baby, don't you worry. I just had to see you, couldn't wait.”

You nod and slowly release him, knowing that he'll tell you when he's ready, and instead of pushing any further you arch your body into him as he drops down to his knees propping your leg over his shoulder as he puts his mouth on you. Your fingers grasp to hold on to something, anything for balance as his tongue delves between your folds, lapping and licking, curling up inside to savour your sweet taste. He's never going to let you fall, supporting your ass with his big hands as you lose yourself in the feel of his mouth working you up and up, the sensation only made more intense by the shower steam slicking your bodies. Your head thunks back against the wall as Brock flicks the firm tip of his tongue over and around your throbbing clit taking you higher and closer to a crescendo, your thighs quivering around his face. He's looking up at when you open your eyes and look down at him, listening to your moans and whines and watching your mouth drop open when he pushes two fingers up inside your tight walls and fucks you with them.

“Baby you gotta come for me, please, please baby you're so fucking good to me… I wanna make you feel so good-” his mouth is back on you, thick fingers curling gently as he draws them back out of your cunt and then straight back in. Each thrust of them almost punches the air out of your lungs as he takes you right up to that sweet edge.

He groans loud with you against your core as you let go, feeling you squeezing and creaming around his fingers, licking it all up as you pant and shake with the intensity. When he carefully lets you down, you circle your arms around his neck, pulling him in and holding yourself up on wobbly legs at the same time as you taste yourself on his lips. He's still hard and heavy against your stomach, swearing under his breath as your fingers then wrap around his length and slowly start to move your hand up and down.

“Let me take care of you, now.” your soothing voice melts into his ears. But that's not how it's supposed to go. He's the one that's gotta show you what you mean to him, how you're the only damn thing on his fucked up brain when it comes down to the dirt and blood of it all. He stops you, scoops you up in his arms and out of the bathroom into the bedroom, fuck the fact you're both dripping wet he doesn't give a shit about the sheets all he cares about is you.

“You need to know,” Brock's tone is level and serious as he lays you down on the bed. “you got to know you're everything to me, yeah? Everything.”

You gently rake your hand through the top of his hair where it's longer, curling your hand around the back of his head and lightly scratching your nails at the shorter shaved parts. He's not yet admitted to you how he really feels, that he has this love for you, it's raw and new, but it's definitely real.

“I know, baby.” you assure him, pulling him closer. You're so sweet for him, better than he deserves as you lay back and guide him inside you.

“Brock-” the warmth of your breath brushes his neck and he dips his head down to kiss your shoulder, listening to the way your breathing hitches as he sheathes himself all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck doll, feels so-” Brock makes a sound you've never heard him make before, almost a whimper as you move your hips up to meet his slow thrust. You clasp your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him close to you as you move as one, your skin still damp from the shower. You hum in agreement, your parted lips slotting perfectly together, still tasting yourself on his tongue as it tangles lazily with your own.

The muscles of his arm are obvious as he holds most of his weight above you, his free hand caressing it's way up the side of your body, the rough pad of his thumb rolling over your peaked nipple. Your back arches and you hike your leg up higher and lock it around him as he keeps on rolling into you at a steady pace that's already got you well on your way to seeing fireworks. It's not a rare thing that he's so tender with you, far from it, but the Brock you see at work is the completely opposite side of the coin and every time you're together this way you can't help but feel special. He bares himself to you, makes you feel like a goddess, gives you more than you could ever ask for. And he feels exactly the same way. He must have had some dumb luck that you fell for him just as he did for you. He's always been seen as a bit of an asshole, most weren't quick to trust him, but not you. You trusted him with your life and that's why he was home this instant with you. You kept him on track, had seen something in him that must have been worth sticking around for, and he was intending on spending all the time he could making sure that was true.

“Thought I was a fucking goner today,” he grits out, “I was a fucking idiot.”

Your eyes snap back open at his confession, searching him for more.

“Brock, you're here, you're okay, that's all that matters.”

“But I need you doll, need to be with ya and that can't happen if I wind up dead.”

You grab his face in your hands, focusing his attention again. “Then don't die.” You tell him, giving him a smile before you kiss him deeply.

He shakes with a burst of laughter and then as you lean up and graze your teeth over his jaw hisses with pleasure. He grins, his hand cupping your jaw, watching as your eyes flutter closed when he fits his hand around your neck with a tiny amount of pressure, just the way you like it.

“Mm, that's my good girl.” Brock praises with a husky whisper, moving his hips faster now pushing a desperate mewl of his name from your lips. “So good for me, don't deserve you…”

You can feel your second orgasm building, moaning out as Brock shifts his hand down your body to reach between you and rub his slick fingers over your clit.

The sound of you purring his name under him and the telltale twitch of your thighs draws him right along with you, pulling his cock almost all the way out of your pussy before plunging back deep inside. As you start falling apart around him he snaps his hips faster, shallower until you're clenching and squeezing over and over and he gives you everything he's got, releasing inside your soft heat with a deep moan of your name.

You're both panting as he carefully withdraws and rolls to your side, and as you half drape yourself over his spent body, you can't help smiling as you peck his cheek, turning his face towards you and kissing him over and over.

“Thanks for coming back to me.”

He lets go of a relieved sigh, like the weight of his guilt has been lifted by you saying that.

“I'll keep comin’ back, baby. Don't you worry.”

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Blue Bonnets

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x Female Reader

Word Count: 1720

Summary: What if Brock left Hydra and retired on a Ranch?

Warnings: Smut & Fluff

A/N: This idea came from @americasass81 and my muse was happy to write it.

A/N 2: Thank you to @lfnr-blog-blog-blog for beta reading this. All mistakes are still my own.

The header was made by me.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

The sun was slowly setting over the horizon as Brock sat on his porch and took in the beauty of it all. The bluebonnets were coming in nicely this spring and he wondered how long they would stay. If you had asked him years ago if he would leave Hydra for a simpler life, he would have laughed in your face. Hydra at one point was the only thing keeping him together and gave him what he thought was family. Time presented its moment and he learned of all the things Hydra was capable of doing and all the lives they would take. That was when he was done with them and took off on the run. Brock watched as you rode your horse back to the house you both shared. As you start putting the horse up for the evening Brock can’t help but reminisce on how he got here.

After months of being on the run, he was able to finally make it to a small town in Texas. He was expecting to pass through just like every other town he drifted through but instead, he found you. He remembers the first time he saw you. You were at a local bar with your friends dancing in your dress, cowgirl boots, and hat. He was at the bar in the corner watching as you swayed your hips to the country music that was playing. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and by the end of the night, he would have your number. 

When you were done dancing you made your way over to the bar. You ordered a beer as you tried catching your breath from all the dancing. Your eyes glanced around the bar and you spotted Brock sitting alone, nursing a beer. He was handsome in his plaid black shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, hat sitting low on his head, and jeans that were hugging him in all the right places. You grabbed your beer and slowly walked over to him.

Brock’s eyes never left yours as you slowly walked over to him. He took a swig of his beer just as you approached him. He placed his beer on the table and gave you a smirk. You then introduced yourself and sat down in the chair next to him. Brock tilted his hat your way and introduced himself. “I’m Brock, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You instantly know the accent is not from around these parts but you are intrigued with him. As you both drink your beers slowly you make small talk. He gives you a little background that he’s from New York and had a job that just went in the wrong direction with his values. He is currently just enjoying life as a drifter but he may want to see what this town has to offer. The answer was good enough for you and you explain to him you have a ranch just on the edge of town. You were looking for a ranch hand and if he needed some work he could come by in the morning. With a grin on his face, he agrees that he will stop by. 

The rest of the night goes by in a blur and before you both know it the bar is shutting down. Brock paid both your tabs and offered to walk you to your truck. He holds the door open for you as you head outside into the cool night. When you reach your truck you turn to him and say, “I had a wonderful night Brock. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” You lean in and give a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Brock was taken aback by how gently you kissed him and lord knew he would love to pull you in for a passionate one. But for now, he’ll wait as he knows this is the beginning of something special. You both part ways for the evening leaving him to think about what the future could bring if he stayed.

The next day Brock showed up on your ranch and watched you exit a house. Today you are wearing a lightweight plaid shirt over a tank top, jeans, your boots, and a hat. You looked ready to start your day. You walked over to him, looped your arm in his, and instantly started giving him a tour of your property. You showed him the house you came from which was for the ranch hands for them to stay if they didn’t have a place. Then you showed him the rest of the buildings on the property. The tour took an hour and by the time you were done, Brock was agreeing to be your new ranch hand. 

From then on you two became inseparable, working hand in hand on the ranch. Brock worked hard to prove this was something he could do. No longer was he a Hydra soldier now he was Brock the rancher. He even got to eventually call you his woman after a few months of working together. Life was going in a direction he never imagined and he was in love with you. One night you were both getting the barn settled for the night. When he cornered you near the hay bales. His touch was light and desperate. You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He kissed you passionately and deepened the kiss when your mouth parted. It seemed he kissed you forever but he pulled back so you both could take a breath.

“I want you sweetheart so badly. Let me make love to you.” Brock whispered against your lips.

Your head was nodding before you could answer. “Please I need to feel you inside me. I-I have waited so long for you to ask.” You begged him to take you and Brock smiled at you. 

Brock carried you to your house as you placed kisses on his neck while occasionally nibbling on him. Brock couldn’t help the low groans that left his mouth from what you were doing. Finally reaching your bedroom Brock lowered you to your feet and stood there staring at you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can’t wait to make love to you.”

You slowly start to undress along with him and before you know it you’re both naked. You can’t help but admire his muscles on display along with his large cock. Gently Brock pushes you to the bed and you inch your way up the bed while he follows you. As you fully lay down Brock spreads your legs and lays in between them. Seeing your glistening pussy on display for him he can’t help but go in for a taste. 

The first pass with his tongue had you begging for more. Your fingers slipped through his hair as he skillfully took you apart with his tongue. Every pass of his tongue, every suckle of your clit had you arching into him, moaning his name to the heavens. Brock then pushed two fingers into you, thrusting them in and out while he played with your clit with his mouth. His fingers sped up as he sucked on your clit and that’s all you needed to cum for him. Brock finally stopped when you started to shake in his hold from overstimulation.

Slowly he crawled up your body until he was face to face with you. “How do you feel sweetheart?”

You smiled big at him. “Like I’m on cloud nine. I need more. Please make love to me.”

“Anything you want sweetheart you can have.” Brock wrapped his hand around his hard cock giving it a few strokes before he lined himself up to your wet pussy and started to push into you. Inch by inch he slowly sank into your tight cunt and leaned over you with his arms on either side of you to hold him up. His strokes were soft but firm at times. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolled his hips into you. Both of you let out groans and moans with every thrust into you. Brock leaned down to kiss you on your lips, capturing your whimper of how good he was feeling inside you. His thrusts started to pick up and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room along with your moans. Within moments you were crying out your release as he started to chase his end. A few hard thrusts into you and he was cumming inside you, painting your womb in his release. Both of you were panting from the exhaustion of your lovemaking. You pulled his face towards yours and started to kiss him. Never have you felt this way with another man before. 

A few minutes later Brock pulled out of you and walked to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he walked back he had a towel with him and he sat on the bed cleaning up the mess you both made between your legs. After he was done he threw the towel in your dirty laundry bin. Brock crawled into bed with you and pulled you close to his chest. He kissed your face and settled in. 

“I’m in love with you sweetheart. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Say you will be mine forever. Say it and I promise that you will never want for anything. I will love you until my last breath.”

Your eyes welled up with tears as you answered him, “I’m in love with you too Brock. I promise to stay with you forever. You’re my everything.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around you and you both drifted off to sleep.

This seemed like an eternity ago as Brock watched you pick some bluebonnets with your little girl who was now three years old. Again if you would have asked him if he thought this was his future he would have called you crazy. Today he is happily married and has a daughter that looks just like you. The ranch, no you have saved his life. You gave him a home, a new family, and a future.

Taglist:

@americasass81

@caffiend-queen

@charmed-asylum

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wiypt-writes

@missvelvetsstuff

@jtargaryen18

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@awesomerextyphoon

@caplanbuckybarnes

@km-ffluv

@astheskycries

@spectre-posts

@talia-rumlow

[buckybarnesisdaddy]

Summer Lovin’ pt 1

Summary: Getting into the villa took more work than expected. What didn’t surprise you though was the drama that would ensue, you just didn’t think it would all involve you.

Pairing: those are surprises at the moment! 🤭 Everly(reader) X ???, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Jake Jensen, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peggy Carter, Colin Shea, brief mention of Brock Rumlow. Also original characters.

Rating: Mature!

Warnings: talks of sex, making out, lap dances, petting, PTSD talks. Talks of war, trauma, bombs, war time violence. Graphic talk of injuries.

A/N: there is so much I want to give a heads up for, not bad just some choices I made. So I’ll do that at the end. 😉

Masterlist

You take a deep breath as you climb out of the car. Your bags disappear as a production assistant ushers you down the walk way. “So you will stand here and we are gonna ask you a few questions, okay?” The camera man in front of you has a blank stare as he zooms in closer, the production assistant gives you a look from behind the camera, she motions for you to smile.

“I’m sorry, are we starting now? Like right now?” You ask as you look around, trying to take in the view for just a second. The assistant taps the camera man’s shoulder and motions for him to back up.

“Yes, we are starting now. But we can give you a minute if you need it.” She assures you, thanking her with a smile. “How about while we wait, you tell me about yourself. I actually don’t know anything about you, so leave nothing out.” The assistant chirps happily. You nod and smooth out your sun dress, your fingers fidgeting with the wrinkles.

“Oh, um okay. I thought everyone would know every nitty gritty detail of our lives before we got on set.”

“Villa,” the assistant corrects you. “It will make it feel more like home.” She smiles. You nod as you look around.

“Right, Villa. The Love Island Villa.” You say quietly as you turn around and look at the looming mansion behind you. The assistant motions to the camera man to start rolling again, but this time he backs up and makes sure to not be seen. The cobblestone driveway clicks beneath your heels as you shuffle around in place. Gazing up at the two story mansion before you, modern but still home like. The black and gray color that make up the exterior contrasts all the bright pink, orange, and yellow that make up the furnishings, and decor. The windows reflect the sun brightly and the greenery perfectly placed along the balconies and tresses are lush and full of life, and quietly under all the excess noise coming from the camera crew and the production team, you can hear the roar and crash of the ocean waves. You take a deep breath and turn back to the production assistant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name before.” You ask, extending your hand for a shake. She smiles and reaches her hand out to yours.

“Annie” She offers. You nod and shake her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Annie, I’m Everly.”

“Nice to meet you, Everly. Now how about you tell us about yourself.”

🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩

You spend the next hour making an intro video that will be played on TV. After that Annie sits you down and explains the rules of the show. “Okay, No leaving the villa before the end of filming, unless of course you are voted off. Have physical altercations of you will be removed from the villa by police and charges may potentially be filed. You can’t have your own personal phone or communication device of any kind. We will provide you with one while you are here and it is solely for the purpose of texting between production and the participants. You must adhere and pass all drug and STD testing while you are here or else you will be removed from the island. And lastly, have fun!” You hear everything Annie is saying and you just nod.

“Do people really fail their STD screenings when coming in?” You ask and Annie laughs.

“You’re be surprised! It also depends on what it is. If it’s easily treatable then we may keep you and just quarantine you.” You lightly laugh.

“Well I don’t plan on getting one.” Annie laughs.

“No one plans on getting and STD, Everly.” She guides you back to the car. “Alright, now that we’ve got you checked in and set up, we wait!” You scrunch your eyebrows.

“Wait?? I thought-“ you point to the villa.

“Oh don’t worry, you are on the island.” You take a breath at Annie’s reassurance, you’re not sure why, you didn’t even sign up for this stupid love show, your friends did it for you. “But production of reviewing all your information and the other girls information as we can decide what order to introduce you to each other.” Annie smiles and then whispers, “But you have nothing to worry about, you’re total bombshell material.” And with that Annie is gone.

**** 1 month ago****

“Nooooo!!” You drunkenly whine. “Sarah why?!” Sarah, your best friend since childhood laughs.

“Because! The last man you let touch you was that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend you had! You need love, Evie!” Sarah says sweetly as you pout and pour another glass of wine.

“I don’t Need anything.” You correct her and she raises her hands in surrender.

“Okay true, you don’t need a man or love. But it couldn’t hurt to let yourself have it. Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to have.” You grumble, knowing Sarah is right. “This is a fun and easy way to get back into the dating world, and to meet a lot of hot guys while you’re at it! After everything with Colin and don’t even get me started on Brock-” You sigh.

“Yeah I guess.” You laugh to yourself. “You know what? You’re right! Why should Colin be the last guy who’s ever touched me?! He doesn’t deserve that title!” You exclaim, the wine finally settling in and carrying you to the loud drunk stage.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Now, let me tell you all about the island.” Sarah giggles as she explain her favorite guilty pleasure TV show.

“So it’s like the Bachelor but better?”

“Yes!! And babes,” Sarah looks you up and down. “You are bombshell material!!” Sarah hypes you up. “Those eyes and that hair! Those lips and hips! Those boys will be eating out of the palm of your hand and those girls are gonna be Mad!” Sarah laugh and you giggle.

“I don’t want to make enemies!” You laugh nervously.

“To quote the age old, love island proverb, ‘it’s love Island, not friendship island.’” You bust out laughing, the wine finally making you lose your mind and Sarah is right there with you.

****

You smile as you think back to that night. Sarah had helped you with your shopping spree the next day. Bathing suits, dresses, cute outfits. All of it perfectly fitting your style and helping you stay true to who you are. You fidget with your sundress again as you look down at your freshly tanned legs and painted toes. You been sitting for almost an hour with no word from Annie, maybe they looked at all your stuff and changed their minds. Now they are hoping you get the hint and leave. “No, Everly. Don’t think like that. They would have brought your luggage back if that were the case. Stop worrying.” You say to yourself. You think about how your mom reacted when you told her you’d be gone for 8 weeks to be on a dating show. She about blew a gasket and then she laughed and cried and wished you good luck. Your sister promised to keep detailed notes so she could tease you mercilessly once you got back. Your dad and brother promised to not watch a single episode after they googled and realized what all could happen on the show. Your dad said, “I’ll meet whoever wins your heart after the fact. I don’t need to see you swapping spit with him.” You laugh out loud at that memory.

About five minutes later Annie walks back in. “Okay Everly! You ready to get changed? We have this bathing suit for you.” She holds up one from your suitcase.

“Did you go through my stuff?” You ask as you take the swimsuit from her.

“We have to make sure no contraband is snuck in. Don’t worry, we don’t touch any self care items we find.” She winks and your face goes red. You didn’t pack anything like that but you know Sarah and your sister, Lizzy were snooping around your bag before you got picked up. “Oh god, what did they put in there?” You mumble to yourself and Annie laughs having heard you.

“Well if it was your friends that snuck that certain item inside then they want you to have a great time, regardless of finding love of not.” You blush bright red and dart into the changing room.

You slip on your bikini, it’s royal blue and fits you perfectly. The bottom is full around your butt with the slightest bit of a cheeky cut. You adjust them again as you recall telling Sarah ‘none of those boys have earned seeing any more of my ass.’ As you look at yourself in the mirror you stand by your decision. The top perfectly supports your breast and honestly makes them look irresistible. You slip on your sandals and walk out to meet Annie. “Oh perfect! Although, are you sure you don’t want these heels?” She holds up a pair you brought from home.

“I’m sure, I want to keep the sandals for now.” Annie nods and then takes you folded up clothes.

“Okay, these will be placed in the bedroom with your suitcase,” she holds up your clothes. “Now we are going to film your entrance and then you walking into the villa. After that, you’re on your own until we check in with you. Okay?”

“Okay.” You take a breath and wait for them to say action.

You push open the main door and are immediately greeted with a giant neon sign that says ‘Love’. You smile and start to feel a little excited. You hear some others moving around upstairs so you make your way up. Passing by the living room, decorated ceiling to floor with pink, orange, yellow, and green and the kitchen with neon lights along the kitchen island and another neon sign that says ‘snacks’, you find the stairwell rather plain. But it open up to a giant room filled with 4 large beds. The floor is marble and there is a nice sized carpet in the middle of the room. The four beds face each other, two on one wall and two on the other, with a grand chandelier in the middle of the ceiling providing the light. At the very back there is an opening into the bathroom. A walk into shower, big enough for 2 and a tub big enough for 4, thankfully there seems to be a separate area for the actual toilets which there are three stalls in a little hallway on the other side of the shower. The shower is nestled in the corner with tiled walls except for the glass door and the tub sits under a large window that looks out over the yard. With further examination you see that there is in fact a door to the bathroom that can be locked, and that sets your mind more at ease.

You take another look at your surroundings and notice no one else is around. “So not the bombshell,” you sigh. “Great.” You explore some more when you hear people moving around again. “Hello?!” You call out, hoping to get an answer.

“Did you hear that?!” Says one girl with a sweet voice. It’s a little deeper and it has a Smokey sound to it, but still inviting.

“Yeah, it sounded like another girl!” The next girl says, her voice is lighter and softer, like velvet. You can’t tell there is the slightest bit of an accent.

“Oh great, the bombshell arrived.” The last girl says is a very proper British accent.

“Cut it out, let go find her and introduce ourselves.” The first girl says. You take a deep breath and prepare for whoever is about to walk out of the closet. First is a shorter woman, she has beautiful hair that is red at the roots and blonde on the ends, she’s obviously let it grow out and she’s absolutely owning it. She walks with grace and poise as she crosses the room to you.

“Hi, I’m Natasha. And you are?”

“Everly! It’s nice to meet you.” You smile at her and her friendly attitude.

“Likewise.” Natasha offers. Two more woman come walking out of the dressing room. One with bright red hair and soulful eyes and the other with brown curls and red lipstick.

“Did I hear your name is Everly?” The other red head asks, you nod. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wanda.” She moves in and hugs you, you’re a little taken aback but you don’t mind. The other woman stares at you over Wanda’s shoulder before she smiles and introduces herself.

“I’m Margret, but most people call me Peggy.” Her voice sounds familiar but you think nothing of it, You smile and wave

“Nice to meet you.” looking around and sighing. “So how long have y’all been here?” Natasha settles on the bed behind her.

“Not too long. Enough to get settled and get ready to meet the boys.” She smirks. “But before we do that we need to know more about you! Tell us a little something, Everly!” You laugh and shrug,

“Not much to tell! I am a physical therapist and I work primarily with Veterans who have been through a life changing physical trauma.” Natasha and Wanda beam at you and Peggy just gives a tight smile, you realize she looks familiar too but you can’t place her. “I had a boyfriend of 2 years until I found him in bed with someone else back in December. I dumbed him and have been healing ever since. My friend nominated me for the show and after some soul searching I decided I am ready to give this all a try, hopefully find Love and if not then at least have a good summer.” Natasha looks at Wanda with a smile.

“So you’re here for love too!?” Wanda asks.

“Of course, I mean that’s the name of the game, right?” You joke and she nods.

“I’m ready to settle down.” Wanda says. “Natasha here is on the love hunt too.” Wanda teases and Natasha laughs and rolls her eyes.

“I am open to finding love but if all I have is a summer of fun then so be it. Isn’t that right Peggy?” Natasha turns to the tight lipped, familiar lady standing on the other side of the group.

“Definitely, we are all here for our own agendas and our own lives. Whatever our reasons are, are our own.” Peggy says as she crosses her arms. You look at Natasha’s who gives you a face and you hide your laughter.

“Well said, Peggy.” Natasha answers. “Anyway, Everly what is your type?”

“My type?” You ask.

“Yeah! Like mine is nerdy and sweet.” Wanda offers. “Natasha’s is moody and loyal.”

“You make my type sound like a dog.” Natasha jokes and you three laugh.

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that!” Wanda exclaims. “If anyone’s type is like a dog it’s Peggy’s! Protective but able to take orders?!” The girls laughs and Peggy roles her eyes.

“I would have much appreciated if you had kept my ‘type’ to yourself.” Peggy crosses her arms. Wanda is about to apologize but Natasha stops her.

“Oh calm down Peggy. It’s a type of man, not your bank codes.” At that Peggy does crack a smile. “We are just having some fun, lighten up! It is too early to be making enemies and something tells me Everly is gonna be someone you want to be friends with.” Natasha winks as she looks at you and asks you again. “So Everly, what’s your type?!” You blush and look at your feet and then back at her.

“Well I am a hopeless romantic. The idea of meeting someone in a coffee shop and spending the whole day with them because the conversation and company is just that good? That makes me melt. So my type is the romantic, passionate, sweet type.” Wanda smiles and looks like she’s gonna melt where she is.

“Yes! Someone to sweep you off your feet and then defend you honor all at the same time.” You laugh and nod.

“Yeah, something like that.” Suddenly a phone dinging gets all of your attention.

“It’s my phone!” Wanda excitedly exclaims as she read sit out loud.

*Wanda, the boys are waiting downstairs for you to make your move. #showthemwhatyou’vegot*

Wanda looks up and about squeals from happiness. “I’ll see you all outside!” Wanda hurries down the stairs and outside. Natasha grabs your arm and drags you closer to the window.

“Can you see them?!” Natasha asks.

“No, not a one. But we will see them soon!” You answer back as you try to Crain your neck just enough to catch a glimpse. Natasha’s phone dings.

“Some of us sooner rather than later.” Natasha teases. “See you down there!” She runs down the stairs. You sit in silence with Peggy who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“So what do you do, Peggy?” She looks over at you and politely smiles.

“I am a military contractor.” Peggy says. You nod not having a clue what that means. The awkward silence is broken by your phone dinging.

“Huh,” she smiles up at you, “guess they are saving the best till last.” You don’t even bother to look at her, you just read your phone.

*Everly, it’s time for a bombshell like you to shake things up. Two of the four boys are coupled up but those boys could still step forward and fight for a chance to couple up with you. #Gogetthem #bombshellalert #summerlovin’

🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩

You feel butterflies in your stomach and you take a deep breath. “Okay, Everly. Let’s do this.” You walk downstairs and out to the back doors. You take another breath and decide to give it your best sexy strut. The big white doors open and the sun shines on your face, the warmth sends tingles down your spine. You toss your hair around a little as you start your entrance. Making sure you add a little bounce to your step as you descend the concrete stairs to the grassy yard. You take another deep breath, “hiya boys!” You holler and wave as you get closer. The four men in front of you stand with their eyes locked and jaws dropped. “I heard y’all were ready for some summer Lovin’. I’m Everly, nice to meet you.” You wink and walk even closer. Natasha cat calls you and Wanda cheers. The boys are mesmerized by you and just watches your every move.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” The tall, blonde, chiseled man to your right offers a bright smile as he itches to move closer to you. His eyes are a pretty blue and his smile is bright and infectious.

“Hi Steve.” You bite your lip a little and then smile.

“And I’m Bucky.” Says the tall, brunette, and just as chiseled man to the right of Steve. His eyes are a pale blue and his voice is so smooth, you can already imagine what sweet nothings would sound like coming from that voice. He holds himself proud and strong, you can tell he is a sturdy man. Natasha laughs and nudges his arm. She cocks her eyebrow and Bucky blushes as he looks back at you. You smirk and give a little wave and wink which seem to do the trick.

“Hi Bucky.” The next man is tall and blonde but his hair is shorter and a little spiky. His glasses are round a look absolutely adorable on him. He is a little nerdy looking but in a way that you totally love. He fumbles a little and looks between you and Wanda. Wanda smiles and gives him a nod.

“I’m Jake- and wow! Oh I’m sorry-” He looks at Wanda who nudges him.

“No I agree,” she looks back at you and smiles. “Wow is right.” You notice Steve fidgeting and you can feel Bucky’s eyes admiring your form. You dart your eyes to the side and he knows he was caught. You smile to let him know that you don’t mind it at all before you shift your eyes back to Jake.

“Well, thank you, Jake. That was really sweet.” You coo as sweetly as you can before you walk in front of the last man in line. He is of course, tall, his skin is beautiful and glowing in the sun. His abs are incredible and he stands as though he was military. He smiles and has the smallest gap in his front teeth. It’s kinda cute.

“Hi, I’m Sam.” He says as he stands straighter and looks you up and down.

“Hi Sam.” You offer back with a nice smile. You look at the boys and give them all a contemplative look. You are very interested in all of them but you don’t want to ruffle any feathers, at least not on the first day that is. “Okay, I am going to couple up with-“ You see Natasha elbow Bucky and he jumps forward.

“Now wait, you’re supposed to ask us to step forward if we are into you.” He gives you a shy little smile. You blush and look at Sam and Steve who just shrug. Sam steps forward, Bucky eyes him and steps forward as well. You are caught off guard, of course you want men fighting for your heart, it’s nice to be wanted. But so publicly and at the express of the new friends you’ve made.

“Now boys, hold on-“ you start but are interrupted by Steve.

“Well if we are really doing this,” Steve says as he walks forward. Jake shuffles around and Wanda squeezes his hand.

“Step forward if you want, Jake. It’s okay, it’s the first 30 minutes of knowing each other, no one should be too attached at the moment.” Jake shuffles forward and stands shoulder to shoulder with the other three men. You blush and look at each guy overwhelmed by their interest in you.

“Well, I am very flattered but I don’t want to step on any toes.” You start to explain again when Natasha interrupts you.

“No need to worry, Everly. We just met these guys and we have all summer to woo and win them back if you take them.” She winks and you laugh.

“Well how about you tell me about yourselves.” You say and Sam speaks up first.

“I am a retired airman. Now I work in security. I’ve got a boat I love to work on back home and I’ve got jokes for days.” He smiles and you laugh, teasing him a bit.

“So it takes you days to tell a singular joke? Must not be that funny.” You wink and Sam laughs as he shuffles around.

“Oh we’re gonna have fun.” You shrug and move on to the next.

“Jake? What about you?” Jake smiles and adjusts his glasses.

“Well I’m retired military as well. Actually I’m supposed to be dead.” You gasp and he shrugs. “Anyway, I have a niece I am crazy about and I’m really good with computers and tech.” He smiles proudly and you can’t help but smile back.

“I’m sure your niece is very proud of you.” You assure him and Jake beams back at you. You then turn to Bucky.

“Oh my turn? Right, so I am a retired army Sergeant. I now work as a carpenter, me and my buddy started a construction company a few years back and it’s going pretty well. I also do some freelance security work.” You laugh as you ask.

“What does that mean?”

Bucky smirks at you. “If I told you then I’d have to kill you.” He winks and you blush and promptly look at Steve.

“I am a retired army Captain,” he looks at Bucky as he emphasizes his higher rank, and Bucky lightly laughs and shakes his head. “Funny enough I also work in carpentry and have a business with my buddy. Who I also work in freelance security with on the side.” Everyone looks at each other and then back at Bucky and Steve.

“Wait,” you ask. “You two are friends? And know each other from the outside?” Steve and Bucky laugh and nod.

“Yeah, Buck and I go way back.” Steve answers as he squeezes Steve’s shoulder.

“Childhood friends and all. Someone had to keep him from getting his teeth kicked in.” Bucky says as he puts Steve in a headlock. Sam and Jake are laughing, the girls are all in shock and Steve pushes Bucky off of him with a loud laugh. You look at Natasha and she cocks an eyebrow.

“You’re also all veterans, huh? Everly what was it that you do again?” Natasha taking on the role of best/worst wingman in the world. You clear your throat and wish away the blush rising in your cheeks.

“I’m a physical therapist. I work with Veterans who have experienced life changing physical trauma.” All four boys look at you in awe.

“WOW, that’s amazing.” Sam says.

“Could have used one of those when I got out.” Jake says jokingly.

“I bet you’ve helped a lot of men and women get back a little piece of themselves.” Steve admires.

“I know the work you do, mine changed my life after my accident.” Bucky admits, that’s when you notice the faint, white scarring across the left side of his chest and left arm. Your professional curiosity is about to get the better of you but you quickly snap back to the task at hand.

“I do what I can, I hope I’ve made a difference.” You gently smile at Bucky and he gazes back. Natasha clears her throat.

“So Everly, you gonna steal one of our guys?” You look at Natasha and then back at Bucky and Steve. You smirk and playfully answer back.

“Now Natasha, it wouldn’t be any fun if I stole them, they may choose me on their own.” You wink and Natasha give a playful laugh. Bucky looks like he’s about to melt where he is and Steve looks about ready to jump out of his skin. “Well I don’t want to ruffle feathers and we have all summer, plus this guy looks about as sweet as a golden retriever and I need that energy in my life.” Wanda looks a little worried, thinking you’ve got eyes for Jake. You assure her by flicking your gaze to the man you are choosing. “I want to couple up with Steve.” Steve punches the air and gives you a big hug as you jog over to him. You stand by his side as you wait to Peggy to make her entrance. She comes waltzing down the stairs and you feel Steve shift around a little but then he looks at you with his deep blue eyes and you melt. He takes your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. You then hear Bucky whisper to Steve, “I thought they usually saved the Bombshell for last? After Everly my head is spinning so much I can’t bring myself to focus.” Steve agrees. You blush and try not to let it go to your head.

“Well, hello boys.” Peggy says sweetly. “Seems most of you are coupled up,” her gaze flicks to Steve, “but we could change that. Step forward if you fancy me.” Sam steps forward and so does Jake. She looks at Steve and then her eyes float to you. You can tell Peggy is gonna cause some trouble in the future. “Hmmm I think I will couple up with this tall, handsome man right here.” She takes Sam’s arm and Jake shuffles back to Wanda who promptly wraps her arms around his. You get a text.

*Islanders, these will be your couples until the next recoupling. Which may be sooner rather than later. Take some time to know your partner and the fellow islanders. #flirtaway #mixitup*

You turn and look at Steve, he smiles down at you and then looks around to find a place to talk. “The daybeds look like a nice quiet place to talk, wanna?” He asks and you nod.

“Lead the way.” You two make you way across the lawn and pass the pool to the little covered patio on the other end of the lawn. The daybeds lay three in a row and face the rest of the yard. Steve sits down first and you crawl on the bed next to him. As you get settled you meet his gaze and his eyes flick from yours to your lips and then back again. Blushing and looking away, Steve lightly laughs, “So, tell me a little about yourself, Everly.” He reclines and rests one arm across his chest and the other behind his head. His smile is warm and he stares at you like you’re the most important person in the world, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach as you meet his gaze.

“Well, as I said before I am a physical therapist but I also do some writing on the side. Helps take my mind off of work and lets me escape a little.” Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“A writer too? WOW, what kind of stuff do you write?” He asks as he sits forward, even more intrigued.

“Romance of course!” You tease and Steve laughs. “But really, it’s love stories and teeth rotting sweetness. Just something to lighten up my mood after a hard day.” Steve beams at you and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Humm what else? I have a sister and brother that I adore and my parents have been married for almost 30 years. I’m pretty easygoing, I love to spend time with friends and my loved ones.”

“Do you live near your family?” Steve asks as he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I do, but not so close that they would drop by unannounced.” Steve laughs and nods.

“I know what you mean. My mom lives across town and I make sure it stays that way. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my mom, but sometimes you need your own space.”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “Sorry,” you apologize for your loudness, looking around to see if anyone was disturbed by the outburst. All you see is Peggy staring at the two of you. “Umm sorry,” you laugh, “But I totally get that. My sister drops by sometimes unannounced and well let’s just say she has seen some things.” You blush and Steve lets out a loud laugh.

“Oh really?! What kinda things?” He smirks and leans a little closer, itching for the juicy details. You blush even more.

“Umm like an afternoon delight in the kitchen.” You cover your face and Steve pulls your hands away.

“Hey, no need to be shy!” He smiles kindly at you. “Would it make you feel better if I told you an embarrassing sex story too?” You laugh.

“Absolutely!” You cross your legs and lean your elbow on your knees and as you gaze up at him. He laughs and starts to blush himself.

“Well I was still enlisted when this happened. We were out on assignment and were waiting for the all clear to move in on our target. We were board and well, one of the M.A.S.H surgeons decided it would be fun to play strip poker. One thing led to another and me and her were in the back of the humvee going all the way.” You interrupt him.

“Steve this just sounds like your bragging about getting laid in a war zone.” You tease and Steve holds a hand up.

“Hold on, I’m not done.” He laughs and looks up at the sky, “Right as we were about to finish, the back door to the humvee opens.” You gasp and Steve nods, “yup, apparently while we were naked they radioed that we had to move out immediately. Everyone was geared up and ready to go but when they opened the door all they saw was my ass-“ Just then You hear Bucky and Natasha walking over, Bucky decides to finish the story for Steve.

“Yup! And that’s why we lovingly called him America’s ass the rest of his enlistment.” Bucky grins and pats Steve’s back. You try not to laugh as you look at a blushing Steve. He just nods and gives you permission, and you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Oh my god, that’s horrible. And kinda funny.” You laugh and Steve smiles, he likes your laugh, it’s sweet and light. He could listen to you laugh all day.

“I’m a big boy, I can handle being laughed at. But can you Bucky? Should I tell Natasha your embarrassing sex story?”

Nat laughs and looks between the two of them. “You two swap sex stories?” You giggle as you look back at Steve.

“Well yeah, don’t you?” He teases Natasha and she nods in agreement. “So Bucky are you gonna tell it or should I?” Bucky shrugs and looks at you with a smirk.

“Go ahead Stevie.”

“Stevie?” You question with a smirk of your own, Steve blushes and nods.

“Something my mom and my overprotective best friend always called me growing up. Now it’s just whipped out in times where he wants to be condescending.” Bucky laughs and agrees.

“Well I like it, Stevie.” You reach out and ruffle his hair and he catches your hand and give sit a kiss. “But back to the topic at hand, Bucky’s embarrassing sex story!” The four of you laugh and Bucky raises his hands.

“I was with a girl and her dad caught us. Walked right in there for a visit and apparently he had a key. And we were taking advantage of the great lighting in the living room of her apartment.” Natasha gasps.

“Wait?! As in like videos?!” Natasha asks, Bucky blushes and you want to see him do it again.

“If I said no would you believe me?” Bucky says to Nat and she laughs out loud.

“What?!? Like only fans???” Natasha asks, not weirded out at all but interested.

“Yes but it wasn’t mine. It was hers and it was a 1 time thing. We met at a bar and we were gonna hook up so she asked if wouldn’t mind being filmed. I said I didn’t care as long as my face and voice weren’t shown. So we set it all up and got to business. Her dad caught us before we could finish. So the video was deleted and that was my short, non-existent only fan’s career.” Your jaw is dropped and Natasha is laughing. Steve can’t breathe he is laughing so hard. “Anyway, it was for the best cause that was my first and only 1 night stand.” Natasha stops laughing.

“Wait really? Not trying to shame you, just wondering why.” Natasha asks as she takes his hand in hers. He smiles at her and then his gaze flicks to you before he answers.

“I’m more of the romantic type. I can flirt the pants off any women in a heartbeat but 99.9% of the time I then promptly ‘put them back on’. I’m kinda old fashioned in that way, I like it to mean something. Actually now that I think about it that story is kinda sad cause I was going through some shit and I was kinda in a spiral.” Bucky looks from you to Steve. He then lightly laughs. “Way to bring the mood down, Buck.”

“No, you didn’t, Bucky.” You assure him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Thanks for sharing. And I think that’s sweet about wanting it to mean something, I’m like that too, hopeless romantic and all.” Bucky’s eyes light up in a way that only you catch. He nods.

“Thanks, Everly.” He then looks at Natasha. “So, what’s your story?” Before she can answer her phone dings. “Saved by the bell!” She laughs and opened the message as she screams for the other to join.

“I got a text!!” Wanda and Peggy run over, followed by Sam and Jake.

*Islanders, head to the fire pit for a steamy game of Truth or Dare. If the fire isn’t burning by the end then a switch up may be coming your way. #Hotandheavy #getthefirestarted #sparksareflying*

You and Steve look at each other and then back at Natasha and Bucky. “Sounds like if there aren’t sparks flying then that decoupling might happen sooner than we expected.” Bucky says as he looks at you and then back at Natasha. “We should probably head over.” He says as he stands up, you three follow him over to the fire pit. It’s sits right below the deck and has a built in bench that circles around half of the fire. The cushions are soft and brightly colored to match the rest of the house. You sit next to Steve and feel Peggy’s eyes on you. You glance her way and she avoids your gaze. Steve notices your face and gives you a nudge.

“Everything okay?” You meet his gaze and offer a small smile.

“Yeah, just I seem to have already made an enemy without even trying.” Nodding your head in Peggy’s direction as you whisper. Steve hums and takes your hand in his.

“I’m sorry, anything I can do?” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb and you blush a little.

“Maybe get those sparks flying so we can stay together?” You give a flirty look and Steve bites his lip as he watches you.

“Oh I can definitely do that.” He smirks as he leans in closer, so close his lips graze your temple. “But maybe I should wait for the game to start.” He pulls back and winks and you just melt. You look across the fire pit and see Bucky, his eyes are soft as he watches you and your stomach does a flip. You give a small smile and Bucky has to bite his lip so he doesn’t break out the biggest smile. He clears his throat and looks at Natasha.

“So how do we play?” His phone dings, “Guess I could have waited 1 second and I would have gotten my answer.” He laughs and opens up the message.

*Islanders, each person will get a chance to pick a truth or dare card. Each card is a steamy dare or a sexy truth. Now let’s get the fire started because whoever you have the most chemistry with is who you will go on a date with tonight, and it might not be who you are partnered up with. #isithotinhere #letsgetstarted*

Bucky meets your gaze and you shift around a little. His eyes are so captivating but you can’t get caught gazing at him when Steve needs to be your focus. You turn your gaze to Steve and he smiles down at you. “Okay, who goes first?” Steve asks, his phone dings and he reads the message, “Looks like it’s me.” He smirks as he walks up to the deck of cards on the edge of the fire pit. Drawing the first card and a letting a big smile break across his face. “I got a dare card and it says ‘kiss the hottest girl for at least 15 seconds’. They don’t have to tell me twice.” Steve turns and looks at you, he walks over and pulls you up from your seat, your heartbeats faster and your gaze flicks to his lips as he leans in closer. Soft gentle lips graze yours and at first it’s sweet and tame. Then his arms wrap around your body and pulls you closer as his tongue gently pushes against your bottom lip, you hold back the moan that’s about to escape you when you hear the timer go off. Everyone cheers and claps. Sam whistles and Jake says some joke about it not counting if there wasn’t tongue. You blush as you pull back and open your eyes. Steve has the cutest blush breaking across his cheeks and nose, give him a ‘sun-kissed’ look and it’s so cute you could melt. You sit and pull Steve to sit down with you, holding his hand and trying to hide your blush from everyone else. Natasha meets your gaze and gives you a killer smirk.

“So Everly, sparks?” She asks and you blush even more. Steve lightly laughs and looks down at you.

“I’d say there were sparks flying, huh?” You nod and Steve pats your thigh as you two sit back.

“Okay, my turn!” Jake shoots up and grabs a card, “Truth! ‘Have you ever faked it to get out of a horrible lay?’ Well I feel this would have been a question for one of the ladies, but surprisingly I have.” Jake looks at Wanda and she just laughs.

“Wait, how?!” She asks, you’re genuinely curious too.

“Well, we weren’t naked yet and I felt horrible about doing it but I also didn’t want to sleep with her if I wasn’t into it. So I just kinda-“

“Oh my god,” Sam exclaims. “You faked getting off in your pants to get out of having sex?!” He looks at Jake and Jake hangs his head.

“Yeah, I did.” The boys laugh, Wanda speaks up.

“I mean it’s sweet you didn’t sleep with her when you knew you weren’t into it. But you could have told her the truth too.” Jake nods and agrees.

“I know that now! Then I was 17 and just wanted to get out of there and get home.” Jake explains. Wanda rubs his back and gently smiles at him.

“It’s okay, Jakey.” She assures him and Jake blushes and acts all shy. Bucky laughs and shakes his head. Natasha stands up and grabs a card. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow cocks as she reads the card. “Huh, I got a dare and it’s says, ‘Sit in a boys lap who isn’t your partner for 2 rounds.’ Sorry Buck.” She smirks as she walks towards Steve. “I hope you don’t mind,” she sits on Steve’s laps and gets herself comfy. “Rules are rules.” She shrugs and you laugh and shrug. Steve looks anything but uncomfortable. You just roll your eyes and laugh. Nat continues to move around a little at a time, knowing exactly what she’s doing. Sam goes and his was a truth. He had to share what a perfect date would look like. “And then we’d end it back at my place,” he looks at Peggy. “What do you think of that?” She shrugs.

“Seems okay.” She focuses back on the others and Sam sighs and looks over at Bucky, who offers him a pat on the shoulder. It’s your turn and as you walk up everyone cheers you on, you do a little dance as you get closer and it has everyone in stitches and cheering even more.

“She’s got the moves!” Bucky yells as he smirks. You look back at him and wink.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” You flick your hair and seductively bend down to get a card. You know your ass looks good and you know Steve and Bucky are looking at it. Hell maybe even Sam. “It’s a dare-oh Lordy it’s a spicy one. ‘Make out with someone who isn’t your partner for at least 30 seconds.’ Hmmm decisions, decisions.” You look around at everyone and their hopeful faces. Steve pipes up.

“Come on Everly, take your pick. You should pick me no matter what the cards say.” He winks. You laugh and turn to face him.

“Just for that I should make out with Natasha while she’s still in your lap, just to tease you.”

“Please do that!” Sam almost yells.

“Oh god yes!” Jake exclaims.

“Don’t tease us!” Bucky warns

“I’m game if you are.” Natasha smirks. You giggle at all the reactions.

“I won’t do that, mainly because I am straight but also because I’m sure these boys would explode in their pants, and for real this time, right Jake?” You tease and he blushes while everyone else laughs. You throw him a wink and he smiles. “But I’ll give you this.” You walk over and gently peck Natasha’s lips. It’s over before it begins but it affects the boys all the same.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles and you hear the other boys curse beneath their breaths too.

“Now onto the actual dare.” You turn your attention to Bucky. You walk over and move right between is legs. He is laid back casually as he watches you lean closer and closer. As you start to climb in his lap and straddle him his ‘cool vibrato’ breaks and you see his pupils dilate. His eyes flick from your lips to your eyes and then back to your lips. He moves his hands from the back of the bench and slowly moves them up your back, watching your eyes to see if it’s okay. You gently smirk, “this okay, Buck?” Without answering he crashes his lips to yours as you wrap your arms around his neck. He moves his hands to your head, threading his fingers in your hair. You move your hands around his shoulders and feel his chest rise and fall beneath your fingers as he nudges your lips with his tongue. Without a second thought you let him and he licks into your mouth, both of you completely lost to the moment. When you break apart you are gasping for air and your lips are a little swollen. Bucky’s pupils are blown wide and you can feel his heart pounding beneath your hands. Everyone is cheering and whistling as you two come back to earth, under his breath so no one else can hear him, Bucky says.

“Fireworks, absolute fireworks. You just lit up my world, Everly.” You blush and give his chest the slightest squeeze wanting him to know you feel the same way. You quickly climb off and walk back to Steve. You meet Natasha’s gaze and she gives you a knowing look as she passes by and smiles to reassure you that she would have done the same thing. You find your seat next to Steve and shyly look up at him.

“Hi,” you say and he lightly laughs.

“Hey,” there is the slightest bit of worry in his eyes and you reach out and squeeze his knee. “Wish that had been me.” Steve admits and you smile before you let your gaze fall to the ground and then back at Bucky. You turn back to Steve and whisper.

“There still plenty of time left in the game, I’m sure we will get a chance.” You kiss his cheek and he blushes and nods.

The rest of the game isn’t as exciting. Wanda does a little dance for Jake who absolutely loves it. Natasha shares about her threesome experience. Sam has a dare that makes him get close and personal with Peggy who doesn’t hate it but definitely doesn’t love it. The whole time Peggy has her eyes on you. You Ignored her sighs as you settled next to Steve. Even when Bucky and Steve went again and chose you to carry out their dares with. One was to dance with you and the other was to make direct eye contact with you for a full minute. Bucky’s eyes are incredibly beautiful and you didn’t have any issues. Steve knows just how to move and he got your blood pumping towards the end. The whole time Peggy sat there, tight lipped and looking at you like you had killed her dog. When it’s her turn she stands up and grabs her card. “It’s a dare, ‘Kiss your partner until the other islands say stop.’ Well, I-”she looks at Sam and then back at everyone else. She doesn’t speak she just makes a b-line to Steve grabs his face and plants a big kiss on him. And Steve makes the mistakes of going along, his hands along her body and kissing her back.

“Whoa?!” Yells Sam.

“The card said your partner, Peggy! Steve?!” You exclaim, jumping up from where you are sitting. Natasha and Bucky walks towards the scene right as Peggy steps away. She gives a smug grin to you all.

“I know what my card said. I also know what I wanted. I’m fine with breaking the rules to get what I want.” She saunters back over to Sam who stands up and walks to the other side of the fire pit. Steve stands there shocked, with his hair messed up and red lipstick all over his lips. He looks down at you and sees the hurt in your eyes.

“Everly, I’m sorry. But it’s part of the game.” Before you could speak Natasha is standing up for you.

“No me sitting on your lap or Everly making out with Bucky was a part of the game. You helping Peggy break the rules and obviously enjoying it while doing it, that isn’t a part of the game.” You look at Peggy and her smug look, all you want to do is cry. You don’t know why, you just met Steve and it’s not that deep or special, but it’s something about the way Peggy looks at you and seemed to hate you from the moment you met. A text interrupts your thoughts. Sam speaks up.

“It’s mine.”

*Islanders, the game is over. The dates tonight are as follows.*

“Anyone have a text yet?” Jake asks. His phone dings, “oh I do!” He reads it out. “Jake and Wanda. We got a date!” Wanda smiles and kisses his cheek. Sam’s phone dings.

“Let’s get this over with,” he reads it and his eyebrows raise. “Sam and Natasha.” He looks at Natasha and she gives him a flirty wave and wink. “Well, alright.” Sam’s mood looks like it’s improved quite a bit. Steve’s phone dings.

“Steve and-“ he stops and looks up at you and gives you a sorrowful look. “And Peggy.” Your heart sinks and Peggy jumps up and comes to sit on the other side of Steve. You wait and wait and no text comes. Jake gets another one.

*Islanders, those are all the dates. Please head to the room to get ready. #Dates #loveisintheair

You try not to cry, it shouldn’t hurt but it does. In the shows eyes you didn’t have chemistry enough with anyone not Steve and not even Bucky. You feel sick to your stomach and can’t meet anyone’s gaze. Steve tries to talk to you but you just pull away because you can’t let him see you cry. Right before your voice breaks you croak out a, “go have fun, find me when you get back.” And with a kiss on the cheek you disappear to hide until they are gone. You sit up on the terrace and wait to hear their voices drift away as they all leave through the front door, the cars staring and driving away, leaving behind only the sounds of the ocean and your quiet sobs. Sitting there watching the sun set you remember that 1) you need to eat and 2) you aren’t here alone. So you make your way to the kitchen to whip up dinner and then you go to find Bucky. He’s sitting by the pool with his legs dangling in the water. He hears you walking up and he turns around to look at you before he waves you closer.

“Come join me, Evie.” You smile at the sweet nickname he just gave you.

“Thanks, Buck.” You offer back and he lightly laughs. Leaning back on his hands and watching as you sit next to him.

“Well, no matter what that dumbass game says, I think we had some pretty fire chemistry, don’t you?” He says, trying to lighten the mood. You give a sad smile and nod. Bucky sits up and nudges your shoulder. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” You shake your head, “Look I know Steve can be a dreamy guy,” you laugh and wipe a tear away. “But even he isn’t good enough to have a beautiful girl like yourself crying over him.” You sigh and wipe away more tears.

“It’s not that, I umm-“ you take a deep breath and look at Bucky. You can tell he is trustworthy and kind, the way his eyes dance over you and not in a sexual way but in a protective and caring way. “I had a boyfriend, we broke up back in December because he was cheating on me. I found him with the women in our bed.” You can feel Bucky straighten up next to you, he puts his hands in his lap and you can tell he is squeezing his hands together. The thought of another man hurting you that way makes him angry, and that is incredibly comforting. “I thought I heard something so I stood by the door and waited. I heard a women say, ‘I know and I don’t care.’ Amongst other things. So, I walked in while they were in the throws, I wanted to make sure he saw me as I walked to the bedside table and grabbed my charger and bags before I glanced at her and then just stormed out.” Bucky puts an arm around you and rubs your shoulder before he leans in and kisses your head.

“I’m so sorry, Evie.” Bucky whispers against your skin.

“So Peggy swooping in and stealing Steve and Steve just going along with it,” you look up at Bucky, “well it opened up some old wounds.” You sigh again, “and I know that’s how this show goes and I know we’ve known each other for not even a day but it still hurt, you know?” Bucky nods.

“Yeah, I do.” Bucky looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. “I’m sorry he made you cry and I’m sorry Steve did too.” He leans in closer. “No man should ever make such a sweet, beautiful girl like you, cry.” And right when you think he’s gonna kiss you, he lifts up and kisses your forehead. A sweet and very kind gesture. “Well since we have this place to ourselves, let’s get to know one another, huh? No more tears unless they are from laughing too hard.” Bucky suggests and you agree.

“You’re right! Even if we apparently had the worst chemistry of the entire bunch, we can still have fun!” You laugh and so does Bucky. He shakes his head.

“Nah, we had chemistry, I think they did that for dramatic effect. And it worked. But now we are here, by ourselves for hours.” He smiles and raises his eyebrows and suggestively. “Whatever shall we do?!” You smirk and lean in really close, close enough to almost kiss him but you don’t.

“We should,” you say slowly. And Bucky nods.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks.

“Totally stake claim on the good beds and eat the best ice cream before those losers get a chance.” You giggle and Bucky nods.

“You read my mind!” He laughs and stands up, pulling you up with him. “Let’s go!” Dashing off to the kitchen you eat the dinner you made and talk about your jobs. “I love what I do and it pays well. But there’s just something about building something from scratch- something about creating that is its own kind of therapy, you know?” You agree and just smile and listen as Bucky goes on about the business he has. “So you work with Veterans?” You nod and sit back, pushing away your empty plate.

“Yeah, a lot of men and women who have lost limbs or have gone through some type of trauma that affects their mobility.” You look at Bucky as he nods and finishes his last bite. You bite your lip, trying to decide if you should ask about his injury or not. If working with Vets has taught you anything it’s that you don’t just casually bring up things that could trigger their PTSD. Bucky looks up at you and he can tell what you’re debating in your head. He smiles and sits back.

“You can ask, I can handle it.” You gently smile and sit forward.

“What happened? What was your official injury?” Bucky takes a drink of water and then sits forward to meet you halfway across the table.

“Roadside IED. Humvee hit it while we were making our rounds. It wasn’t there earlier that day but it was that afternoon. I’m a sniper, well was a sniper, so I was sitting in the nest on top on the car. We hit the bomb and I went flying, as did the car. I woke up and my left arm was hanging on by the bone and only the bone. There was also a large part of the Humvee keeping me pinned. I was in and out so I don’t know how long I was there but I know Steve was the one who saved me.”

“Really?” You ask, trying to control the emotion in your voice. Bucky nods.

“He was back at base and when we didn’t check in they sent out the search team. Knowing I was out there Steve demanded to be a part of it.” Bucky laughs. “He found me and damn near tore every muscle in his arms trying to lift that piece of Humvee off me. He saved me and got me back to base. From there we I was stabilized and sent home. It’s only a miracle that they saved my arm.”

“You have full range of motion and sensations?” Bucky smiles and looks down at his empty plate and then back up at you.

“If you’re asking as a professional? Yes, I can move and feel everything and I have my regular check ups to make sure there is no late onset nerve damage.” His tongue darts out quickly wetting his bottom lip, “if you asking as the woman I’m trying to win the heart of? Yes, I can pick you up carry you upstairs and feel every inch of your body if you’d let me.” Your heartbeat quickens and your eyes flicker to his lips and then meet his gaze again. He smirks and then sits back as you quickly regain your composure. You blush and get up to grab the ice cream.

🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩🦩

“You like mint?!?” You exclaim as Bucky takes a bite. He laughs and defends his choice.

“Not exclusively but maybe I’m just wanting to freshen my breath in case you wanna repeat our dare from earlier. Or make me prove that my range of motion and sensations are fully intact!” You giggle and run away from him as he chases you, trying to kiss you. You run to the pool and one thing led to another as you both go crashing in. You emerge gasping for air and laughing so hard as Bucky pulls you closer. Your laughter dies down as you gaze into each others eyes, growing closer and closer as he backs you up against the pool wall, taking your face in his hands and leaning in. Right as your lips are about to meet, your phone dings. Coming back to your senses you climb out and grab your phone reading the text.

*Everly and Bucky, you guessed correctly. You two had the most chemistry out of all 4 couples and we thought you deserved some private time while the others enjoyed their group date. But the privacy is almost over as the other islanders are on their way back. #Sparkswereflying #recouplinganyone?*

You look back at Bucky and he walks closer to you. Taking your face in his hands. “Well now I won’t feel bad about doing this,” he kisses you as his hands dance across your skin and your arms wrap around his neck. He moans into the kiss as your bodies move closer and you gasp as he bites your bottom lip before soothing it with another kiss. When you pull apart you stare into each other’s eyes and know that this summer is only about to get more interesting. Bucky moves back in but you stop him.

“I can’t- I know Steve and I aren’t exclusive but- I chose him, Bucky. I have to try, please understand.” Bucky sighs as he takes your hand.

“He’s on another date as we speak.” Bucky says.

“And technically so am I. How do you think he will feel when he finds out we got a private date, away from prying eyes.” Bucky sighs again and shakes his head.

“Okay, fine but you can’t deny what we have, Everly.” He pulls you closer and brushes your wet hair away from your face. “And I’m not giving up, I’ll be here. Natasha is great and I’d probably fall for her if you weren’t here but I meant what I said after that dare.” Your breath catches, it’s the first day, could you really have found it all on day one? “You lit up my world, Evie. And I’ll go about this however you need it. But I’m not giving up.” You let out a shakey breath and pull him into one last kiss before pulling apart and putting some space between you two just as the front door opens and the three couples come walking inside, loud as ever.

“Hey! What did you two get up to?!” Natasha yells as she motions to your soaking wet clothes. Steve walks closer and eyes you two intensely. You both laugh and play it off pretty well.

“Oh, well we were having a debate over which ice cream was better and it got heated and Bucky chased me and made me fall in the pool. I made him jump in too as pay back for ruining this perfect outfit.” You give Bucky a playful shove and he picks you up and hauls you over his shoulder, ready to throw you in again.

“You wanna go in again?!” He teases and you yell and try to wiggle free. He tickles your sides. “I don’t know, what do you think Steve?!” Steve laughs.

“Okay Buck, put her down. I think you’ve tortured her enough tonight.” Steve walks closer and pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. You feel Peggy’s glare bore into your back as Steve ushers you away. You look back and see Bucky watch you walk away with Steve. Nat and Wanda come up to comfort him and usher him towards the kitchen. “So how was your time here?” Steve asks once you get settled on the day beds.

“Good, got to know Bucky a little bit. Can see why you two have been friends for so long.” Steve nods. “He also told me the story about his arm.” Steve sighs and squeezes your hand.

“Yeah that was a scary time. But thanks to people like you,” he kisses your hand. “He is back to his old self.” Steve looks down at you and his eyes flick to your lips. “Man I really want to kiss you right now.” Your heartbeat quickens.

“You do?” You ask, a little unsure. Steve nods and closes the distance between both of you. Your lips crash to his and he slips his hand behind your head. He pulls you closer and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up. He pulls away too soon and rubs his thumb across your cheek.

“Wow, now that was worth the wait.” You blush and curl up next to him as you gaze at the stars.

“So how was your date?” You feel Steve shift and tense up. He clears his throat and you sit up to look at him.

“Well I want to be honest with you,” he hesitates, “Peggy kissed me and I didn’t exactly stop her.” That angers you more than it should and you don’t know why. Especially considering what you and Bucky got up to.

“I really like and care about you but I’d be lying if I said Peggy didn’t turn my head a little.” You sit back and create some distance. “I’m sorry, Everly. I just want to be honest.” You nod and sigh.

“No I appreciate that. And I guess I should be too.” You take a breath. “Bucky and I kissed while everyone was gone. We got to talking and flirting, we had a heart to heart because I was sad after yall left and well we kissed.” You meet Steve’s gaze and he seems a little upset but about as much as you were at his news about Peggy. He then sighs and leans his head back.

“Was your head turned?” Steve asks and musters up the courage to look at you.

“A little, yeah. But I told him that I chose you and I wanted to see where things go- if there is anything here, you know?” You explain and Steve nods.

“Yeah I get that.” He takes your hand. “Thank you for being honest.” You gently smile and kiss his cheek.

“Always,”

“Good to know. So are you gonna tell me why you were upset?” Steve asks as You lean back and stare at the stars.

“Just something earlier today reminded me of my ex who cheated on me. It made me more emotional than it should have. Not sure why though,” you shrug it off. “Anyway, Bucky helped and talked me through it.” You smile at the sky and Steve catches the fondness that washes over your face as you think of Bucky. He wished it didn’t hurt.

“Well I’m glad, Bucky is a great man.” Steve says as he pulls your attention back to him. “So are we all in until a recoupling potentially pulls us apart?” You smile and look at Steve, you see Bucky over his shoulder and he seems to walking your way. He gets there before you could answer Steve.

“Hey! A couple of us are gonna have a late night swim.” His gaze dances over you. “You two wanna join?” You look at Steve and you can tell he’d much rather talk but something in your eyes must have told him differently because he looks a little sad and then answers for the both of you.

“Sure!”

You are getting changed into a bathing suit as you hear two people in the bedroom.

“Did you tell her?!”

“No! Why would I?!”

“Because-“ you accidentally knock over a can of hairspray and it clangs loudly. The people who were talking quickly rush out of the room before you can see who they were. Thinking nothing of it you head down to the pool where the party seems to be in full swing.

“Oh there she is!!” Bucky cheers and whistles.“The party has arrived! Everyone Evie can do an excellent cannonball, saw it myself.” Bucky teases about earlier. You walk over and he knows what’s about to happen and he accepts his fate as you push on his chest and he backflops into the pool. You laugh and jump in after him. Natasha swims over and gives you a look that tells you, she knows everything.

“So a little birdy told me that had we been gone longer then we might have needed to treat this pool.” You blush and shake your head.

“No, nothing like that was gonna happen.”

“But something did.” She smirks. She sees your guilty face. “Oh that face better not be for me, because Bucky is hot, I’ll give you that but I’m not feeling it. So you are not stepping on my toes.” You sigh out of relief.

“I told Steve that my head may have turned.” You admit. Natasha hums.

“And how did he take it?” She asks.

“Pretty well. Said his might have too. But we still wanted to try while we are together.” You say and Natasha nods.

“So where is he?” You look around realizing he isn’t there. “He should be here with you, in the pool, grinding all over each other in the water.” You laugh and look around again.

“I actually don’t know where he is.” You go to climb out. “I’m gonna go see if I can find him.”

You grab a towel and head to the day beds and what you find as you get closer makes your blood boil and your heart breaks. Peggy is straddling Steve and making out with him while she moves his hands over her body. You hear Steve trying to get her to stop, to slow down, telling her that he is with you and that he likes you. “I’m with Everly, I like her-“ but she’s not listening, not respecting his wishes. You are speechless and then you hear her say it, “I know, and I don’t care. Touch me.”

It all comes back to you, standing in the hallway of your own apartment as Colin fucks some girl in the bed you share. “You know this will never go anywhere. I love Everly.” Her laugh and response, “I know, and I don’t care. Touch me.” You storm in to grab your stuff and you see her brown curls draped over your pillow and her legs around your boyfriend. Peggy was the women who fucked your boyfriend.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!”

Next

A/N: So I don’t like Peggy is you couldn’t tell 🤭. Also I know Colin is actually a sweetheart but let’s just say this was during his fuck boy phase. 🤷🏼‍♀️.

Taglist: @hisredheadedgoddess28 @cadencejames87 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @slytherinqueen4life @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @georgiapeach30513 anyone else who wants to be tagged to contact me! 🥰

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 16

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Leaning on the counter, pamphlets and catalogs spread out on the counter, between the two of us. Side eyeing the bruises forming on Bucky’s knuckles.

“What did you punch?” I ask innocently.

He chuckles, “nothing,” flipping through a catalog slowly.

My lips pucker, watching him now.

"You didn’t have them this morning.” I point out.

“I know.” Flipping a page.

“Who did you punch?” I huff at him.

He looks up winking at me. “Someone looking at you.”

Nodding slowly, I tip my head to the side. “So, I can do that too.”

“No, you lick me. You made your choice.” He chuckles.

“Because you told me to stop punching people outside of The Ditch.” I remind him with a smirk.

His lips press together slowly. “Baby girl, no.” He points a finger at me. My head tips.

“I thought it was fair, if you do it. I can too.” I grin.

“I don’t go around punching people for fun.” He huffs, shoulders dropping.

Lifting my brow at him, waiting.

“Our breakup was a different story, Y/N and you know that!” He levels me with a look.

I shrug. “Marriage is a different story too.” Whispering softly as I pick up a venue pamphlet flipping it open.

“You’re going to beat someone up, aren’t you?” He sighs.

Shrugging, I tip my head from side to side. Looking through the pamphlet in hand.

“Oh, good you’re both here.” My mother breezes into the room, a little short of breath. Rocking jeans, sneakers, and a black T-shirt. Nothing close to her normal attire she wears. Her hair looks messed, a small cut on her cheek. Her own knuckles look to be bruising.

“Mom?” Bucky speaks up first.

Winni is right behind my mother. Jeans and a dark grey T-shirt. With what look like dark splatter marks on the front of it. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, looking quickly redone. She has handprints on one arm. Her knuckles bruised and a nail broken.

“What the fuck?” I stare at them.

“Oh, good you’re looking over Venues.” Winni smiles.

Ignoring our comments.

“See I think that we should go with this one.” My mother leans over me, grabbing a different one holding it up to me. “And keep this one as a back up if the first doesn’t have available dates.”

“Your father found some charming homes.” Winni joins Bucky pulling home catalogs towards them.

“You’re just ignoring the fact you have blood on your shirt?” He looks to his mother.

Both look down at Winni’s shirt,

“And you have a cut on your face, and both have bruised knuckles. Like James.” I comment.

Each of them look down at the other’s hands.

“Starting to feel real left out here.” Huffing as I flip over the pamphlet.

“You beat up someone and didn’t let her join?” My mother shakes her head at James. “You know that’s going to cost you.”

“I know.” He sighs.

“You’ll learn, or she’ll start beating you up Buck.” Winni snickers.

“Hello!” I throw my hands up, looking at the three of them watching me. “Who did you two beat up and since when did you do dirty work?” Looking between the two.

“Who says we never did dirty work?” My mother lifts a brow at me.

“What?!” I blanch at her.

“Maybe you just didn’t pay attention.” Winni shrugs, flipping pages, tapping on one page showing James something.

I squint at my mother. “That’s a cheap shot on your cheek. You underestimated them.” I pout softly looking at the wedding venue she picked out.

“Maybe I need to join you and Frankie in the ring more.” She comments, grabbing a diet soda from the fridge for her and Winni.

“I got my right hook from dad.” I smirk at her.

“Yes, but I baked the evil into you myself.” She winks at me.

My head tips softly to the side, shrugging. She wasn’t wrong.

“Our children are going to be evil, aren’t they?” Bucky sighs.

“If you have a girl, will she take the table next?” Winni looks from her son to me.

We exchange a look, he shrugs, I smirk at them. “You better hope the boys have boys, she’ll need someone to run the table with.” Going back to the wedding info in front of me.

“A generation of girls, heading the table. Could you imagine?” Winni grins at my mother.

My mom grins, watching me. “Told you, Winni, she was going to change everything she put her mind too.” I smile pretty, filled with cockiness.

“Or her fist.” Bucky snickers.

I stick my tongue out at him. Our mothers laugh.

“Okay wedding details.” My mother turns her attention to the counter.

“Your father has a few opening to let you do walk through, if you want, I can come with.” Winni changes the topic.

“If we do this,” I wave my finger at the counter “will you answer questions, or at least like three after?”

My mother sighs, “if you agree on some details to this wedding, I’ll answer three questions to be exact.” She settles me with a look.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes.

“And you’ll behave at Howie’s wedding.” She adds suddenly.

I gasp. “I was good at Wanda’s!”

“Y/N,” she blinks at me.

“UGH!” I huff loudly. “Fine!” Throwing my hands up. “But if he is 30 seconds late to that wedding, I’m cracking one of his ribs.” Shaking my head, shrugging a shoulder.

“That’s fair.” Bucky nods, agreeing.

Our mothers’ smirks at one another.

“Fine.” They agree.

Around two hours later, we finally agreed on a venue, a color scheme, top three houses and bridal parties. Dropping back in my seat, I look from Winni to my mother.

“Who did you beat up?” I ask.

My mother sighs, pausing for a moment. “Louise Kasady.”

“CK’s mom?” Bucky’s brow jumps up.

I sit up straight.

“What?” I blink at them.

Winni sips from her soda can. “She is leaking information to Eddie. Can’t be allowed.” She spoke casually, looking down at the houses decided on.

Bucky and I exchange a look.

“She fought back?” Lifting a brow.

My mother waves her hand. “She wants revenge for her son. Her husband isn’t the same, I guess.”

“Since my dad broke his hand with his foot?” Bucky smirks.

“And you killed her son. The woman just can’t take a loss and move on.” Winni sighs.

“Her son wasn’t even a high up. I don’t see the need for revenge.” My mother shakes her head.

“She say anything?” Tipping my head.

My mother presses her lips together. Winni inspects her can.

“Mom?” Bucky watches her.

“Nothing we should take serious, honey.” Winni smiles, only it shakes slightly on the edges.

“Shouldn’t we get to decide on that?” His brow dropping down.

“Mom,” I stare at my own. She chews the inside of her cheek for a moment.

“She said you won’t last at the head of the table. That you’ll be the fall of our families.” She watches me, fear in her eyes.

Nodding slowly. I look to Bucky who is watching me.

“They better get through me. And if she falls, I’ll take everyone of them with me.” His blue eyes darken with anger.

“She said you won’t make it to marriage.” Winni whispers.

I grin. “They come for him, and hell better bring it’s biggest army, cause I’ll destroy everything in my path.” Shrugging.

Bucky smirks, nodding softly.

“I am Satan, and hell has nothing on me. Or what I will do to this town, if so, be it.” Looking to my mother.

------------ Everything Peaches 9/21/2024 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @babizza @coley0823 @destiel-artemis @royal-sunflower @camelliasblossom @shinycupcakebaker @purpleeclipseeggsland @daughterofthenight117 @hisredheadedgoddess28

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @jbbarnesgirl @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian

[e-dubbc11]

Get Home Safe

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Oh where to begin…well I guess first and foremost SMUT!(18+ PLEASE or I’m telling on you!) P in V protected sex, oral(F! Receiving), masturbation, couple of swear words, drinking, reader being a smartass(HI!), confession of feelings, and of course some fluff

Word Count: 4.7K-ish(little longer than normal)

Summary: Brock and Reader work for SHIELD. She has a massive crush on him and thinks she hides it pretty well, but she doesn’t. He, on the other hand, hides it very well until the whiskey hits.

A/N: Uh, none really, other than it’s been a minute since I’ve written for Brock and I’ve missed it. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

He stared at you from across the bar.

His amber eyes perfectly matched with the whiskey he was drinking. You didn’t really care for whiskey, you preferred bourbon and yes, there is a difference.

He looked like he had a tough day.

Both of you worked for SHIELD, however his job in Operations was more important than yours in Communications and EVERYONE knew who he was. Meanwhile, if there was a gun held to his head, he wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup. You were nobody.

STRIKE team leader and one of the senior instructors at the SHIELD Academy of Operations, Brock Rumlow was mesmerizing to watch, as well as powerful, strong, and imperious.

Sometimes you’d go for walks around the training facility just to try and get a glimpse of him. Dressed in black from head to toe, his t-shirt clung to his muscular body like it was painted on. His defined arm muscles were tight like piano wire as you clenched your thighs together while watching him instruct new field agents.

A surge of heat rushed to your face as your heart began to race. You could almost hear it in your ears beating fast and hard like a bass drum as he firmly instructed his students while they sparred with each other.

Your mind wandered, daydreaming about what it would be like to have Brock’s strong hands roam all over your body, his thick fingers pressing into the soft skin of your outer thighs, and his tongue tracing down your stomach to your most sensitive area.

You weren’t even really supposed to be down there but you were drawn to him like a magnet and when he wasn’t out on missions, he was in the training facility so you always tried to get a peek when he was there.

Laughter erupted from down the hall, disrupting your trance. You quickly stopped yourself from biting down on your lower lip and hurried back toward your desk.

Brock rarely made his way to the Communications floor but when he did, you tried your best not to make eye contact but you would steal glances at him when he wasn’t looking. He had warm tan skin, golden brown eyes, days old stubble along his chiseled jawline, and dark brown hair, almost black.

His angry sex appeal had all the women on your floor talking about how badly they wanted him or what they would do to him, some of those dirty thoughts even made you blush.

You and your co-workers went out for drinks once a week and this was the first time you had seen Brock outside of work.

As he took sips of his whiskey, he continued to stare at you and one of your friends took notice.

“Rumlow’s staring at you.” Said Bailey.

You replied sarcastically, “Well maybe I owe him money.”

Of course she didn’t pick up on the sarcasm so she said, “Well, do you?”

“I was being funny, Bailey. No, I don't owe him money.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Well, then why IS he staring at you?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink.

You both tried hard to make it look like you weren’t talking about him.

“I haven’t got a clue.” You said.

“I see the way you look at him when he’s on the floor, ya know.” She blurted out.

Mortified and defensive, you replied, almost choking on your drink, “What?! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh you don’t know? Biting down on your bottom lip, looking up from your computer through your lashes hoping he won’t see you, eyes following his every move. But I don’t know what I’m talking about, right?” She said with a wide smile.

Bailey was one of your good friends so you really didn’t want to lie to her and you hadn’t told anyone about your crush on Brock.

“Ok, so what if I have a crush on him? It doesn’t matter. He has no idea who I am and do you have any idea how many women on our floor want a piece of him? They’re prettier than I am, anyway.” You said, looking down into your nearly empty glass of bourbon. “Look at him. He’s sexy as fuck and I’m…well…just…me.”

You took the last sip from your glass as Bailey gently touched your arm and said, “Sweetie, how long has it been since Oliver?”

Shrugging, you replied, “I dunno…a year and a couple months, maybe?”

“See, you need to get back out there! And don’t talk about yourself like that! You’re beautiful. You’re just a little shy, is all.” Said Bailey. “Let’s get you another bourbon!”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, no, I only have one bourbon while I’m out. Any more than one and it gets dangerous. Bailey…BAILEY!!”

**********

You managed to stop Bailey from getting you another bourbon and switched to beer. Brock continued to hang out with his friends and he was on his third whiskey.

The bar, a little more crowded now and a little warmer inside than you’d like it to be, so you told your friends you were going to step outside for a minute. The autumn air should cool you down quickly.

“I said I’ll be back; I’m just a little hot, that’s all.” You said.

About thirty seconds after being outside, you got a text from Bailey.

Rumlow just paid his tab, he’s leaving!

Shit.

He was on his way outside, you weren’t prepared, and you started to feel warm all over again. The door opened behind you and he stepped outside. Looking over your shoulder, he stumbled a little when he walked and searched for his keys in his jacket pocket at the same time.

The last thing Brock should be doing is driving.

“The hell is my bi-bike?” He grumbled, slurring his words slightly. “You se-seen my bike, doll?”

Doll.

Brock held the straps to his helmet in his other hand.

You couldn’t let him drive home in his condition.

God, even drunk he sounded sexy.

“Ummm, may-maybe you shouldn’t drive, Brock. It is Brock, isn’t it?” You asked, playing dumb like you didn’t know who you were talking to.

You tried to keep him talking while you ordered an Uber. Now you just had to figure out a way to take his keys from him and get him to take the Uber home.

“Yeah, yeah…that’s me. You’re that pr-pretty little thing that works upstairs in C-comms, right?” He asked.

“I dunno…there are a lot of pretty women upstairs in Comms.” You replied.

Brock shook his head and pointed his finger at you, “But y-you are the prettiest one, doll.”

Oh boy.

Quickly, you looked down at your phone because you didn’t want him to see you blush. The Uber was five minutes away so you decided to play a little dirty in the form of being extremely flirtatious. Bailey always said you could teach a class on flirting because you did it so well.

So you inched closer to him, making the gap between your bodies smaller and you only hoped he didn’t feel the heat radiating off of your body. You’ve never been this close to him before. He was even more handsome up close. His honey brown eyes looked tired and half open and you could feel his breath against your eyelashes with the smell of whiskey on his lips.

You lowered your voice to a breathy whisper, reached out and placed your hands on his muscular chest.

“Really, Brock? I’m the prettiest on the Comms floor?” You whispered into his ear.

Brock dropped his helmet; it landed with a thud on the sidewalk as his hands tightly gripped your waist and pulled you in closer to him. This wasn’t exactly the scenario you dreamed of at night.

You wanted his soft whiskey colored eyes to be focused on you, not half open with him slurring his speech like he was right now. But you loved having his hands on you.

You glanced at your phone once again. Three minutes before the Uber would be here.

“I do. I really do, sw-sweetheart. You’re the only reason I g-go up to that floor, ya know.” He said.

His confession made your stomach flutter and sent a restless shiver down your spine but you couldn’t let him know you had a crush on him too, not yet. He wouldn’t remember. Actually, he probably won’t remember any of this either.

“You had a lot of whiskey tonight, Brock. Did you have a rough day?” You asked in a high pitched sweet voice, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Ah, a little bit. I don’t really wanna talk about it, y/n.” He replied.

He knew your name.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a car coming toward the sidewalk so you had to act quickly.

“Would you…care to talk about it back at my place?” You asked with a wink. “My ride’s here.”

You managed to grab his wallet and keys from his pocket as you started to walk backwards toward the car, his hands still firmly planted on your waist.

“I-I’d lo-love to, doll.” He replied.

Just as he leaned in to try and give you a kiss, you opened the door, managed to move out of the way and pushed him into the car. You closed the door and before he realized what was happening, you aggressively banged on the window while you simultaneously picked up his motorcycle helmet.

The driver put the window down, you tossed Brock’s helmet, keys and wallet at him, and said, “Take him to the address on his drivers license, I’ll tip you an extra 20. Thank you! I’m sorry, Brock. I just didn’t want you driving drunk! GO!”

The driver took off. You watched as the car drove to the end of the block, stopped at the stop sign and took a right. Brock was gone and on his way home to sleep off the whiskey and you were happy you possibly saved him and others from getting hurt tonight.

Your only hope was that he wasn’t too upset with you.

After enjoying the rest of the evening with your friends, you went home to shower and go to bed. Only it was difficult for you to fall asleep because you couldn’t stop thinking about Brock. Did he make it home alright? Was he angry with you? Would he even remember what happened?

In the gathering darkness, you just stared at the ceiling listening to the cool autumn winds outside your window blowing the fallen leaves across the ground.

You would have to wait until Monday to see Brock again. Hopefully, he’d use the weekend to think about what happened and realize that you did the right thing by shoving him in that car and not letting him drive home.

Hopefully.

**********

The weekend went by fast as it usually did and before you knew it, Monday was here again. You were NOT looking forward to going to work today and the thought of running into Brock made you extremely nervous.

With your head down, you scanned your badge and headed straight for your desk without stopping for small talk with your co-workers. Bailey knew what happened on Friday because after you put Brock in that Uber, you went back inside, had another drink and told her everything.

It made you feel better to hear her say you did the right thing.

“Have you seen him yet this morning, Bailey?” You asked nervously.

Bailey shook her head and replied, “I haven’t but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”

“Great.” You said. “He’s probably furious with me. Not only did he confess he has a crush on me, but I tricked him and sent him home. Hopefully, he got his bike back at some point this weekend.”

“Sweetie, you DID do the right thing. That’s not how you wanted to share your first kiss with him.” She said.

You wanted to believe her but you couldn’t help thinking that Brock was angry and that you embarrassed him but you just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt or hurt anyone else.

You didn’t see him walking around your floor for over a week and you didn’t dare go down to the training rooms to see if he was there. You really hoped he was on assignment somewhere and not staying away because of you.

That was the last thing you wanted.

You always went to the same bar for your weekly outing with your friends from work. Scanning the bar as you walked in, you looked around for Brock but he wasn’t there. A few of his friends from the STRIKE team were there and as you took sips of your drink, you kept an eye on the front door, hoping that maybe he would show up.

But he didn’t.

At the end of your evening, you said goodnight to your friends, watched them walk away and just as you hit the button to order an Uber, the light turned green and the bus across the way took off, revealing a ruggedly handsome man, leaning against his motorcycle and he didn’t look happy to see you.

“I wanna talk to you.” Said Brock in an angry tone.

Feeling nervous but trying not to sound it, you replied, “So talk, Rumlow.”

“Come over here, doll. NOW!” He shouted from across the street.

You didn’t want him to think he could intimidate you or that he could snap his fingers and you’d do whatever he said.

“Say please and I’ll think about it!” You demanded.

Brock rolled his eyes. The street light he was standing under highlighted the gold in them while you watched as he glared at you with a narrowed expression. You know he didn’t like being told what to do. He was always in charge but right now you were holding all of the cards.

“Please, y/n. I really need to talk to you.” He said, almost shyly.

After checking in both directions, you slowly walked over to him to join him under the street light, next to his bike. Now that you were close, you noticed Brock let his beard come in a little more and he looked incredibly handsome in his black leather jacket.

“Ok, what’s this about, Rumlow?” You asked.

“You had no right to take my keys and shove me in that car!” He yelled.

You folded your arms protectively across your chest and couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say that to you.

“Oh I didn’t? Or are you just upset that I caught you off guard and bested you? You could have gotten hurt, Brock! You could have hurt someone else! You know this!” You scolded him.

Shocked at your words and tone, Brock replied, “I’m not a child, sweetheart!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t act like one!” You yelled back. “Ya know, you could have just said ‘thank you.’ Actually, you SHOULD just say ‘thank you.’”

A sly smile stretched across his lips but it quickly disappeared as his jaw tightened and his cheeks flushed with anger. Brock moved closer to you, his nose practically touching yours, while you glanced down to see his chest expand and contract like he was trying his hardest to not let his anger get the best of him.

“You make me nuts, ya know that?” He said.

“And I still haven’t heard a thank you, Brock.” You replied calmly. “My ride’s here, I gotta go.”

You climbed into the car, closed the door, and watched him fade out of view as the Uber drove down the street and toward your house, but Brock was waiting for you when the car pulled into the driveway.

“What are you doin’ here, Brock?!” You asked in a frustrated tone.

Brock placed his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle.

“I told you, I wanted to talk to you.” He growled.

Your Uber driver intervened.

“Are you alright, miss? Do you want me to wait with you while you call the cops?” He asked.

“Ya know what, why don’t you just keep drivin’, pal! Alright?!” Snapped Brock.

“Brock, stop it!” You said and then turned to your driver. “Really, I’m fine. It’s ok.”

The driver acknowledged you were ok and drove away, leaving you and Brock standing in the driveway, alone. His eyes softened and the tension left his lips.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can we please just talk?” He begged.

Starting to walk toward the door, you turned to Brock and replied, “It’s a little chilly out here. You wanna come inside? I have coffee, tea, beer, liquor…all the things.”

“Whatever you’re having, doll.” Brock said softly.

You gave him a slight smile.

“I like having lemon tea after my nights out with the girls.” You replied.

He smiled back and said,

“Lemon tea, it is then.”

**********

You stole glances at him while he looked around. The way he ran his thick fingers across the back of your couches, staring at the pictures you had in frames everywhere, and the way his lips curled up into almost a kind smile when he saw a framed picture of you as a little girl above the fireplace on the mantle.

It was hard to believe that Brock Rumlow was inside your house, your nerves kicked in again and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks while the butterflies in your stomach started to fly in large circles.

Maybe hot tea wasn’t the right choice but it was too late now.

Holding two mugs of tea, you carefully walked over to him.

“Have a seat. Here ya go.” You said, handing him the mug. “Careful, it’s really hot.”

“Thank you.” Replied Brock.

Sarcastically, you asked him, “So…what do you wanna talk about? We’re having a lovely fall this year, aren’t we?”

Brock set his mug on the coffee table and replied, “You’re such a smartass.”

“Still waiting for that apology, Rumlow.” You said.

Brock decided to try and change the subject.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, y/n. Ya know that, right?” He growled.

Confused, you asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t see you? Standing outside the training room, watching me, crossing your legs every time I grab someone by the throat and slam them down on the mat, biting down on your lower lip when I’m addressing the agents. I am trained to see EVERYTHING around me, doll! So yeah, I do see you.” He stated.

Busted.

Apparently, you weren’t being subtle at all if Bailey AND Brock noticed.

“Anything else?” You asked with a hitch in your voice.

He inched closer to you on the couch.

“Are you telling me that you didn’t want me to kiss you that night?” Asked Brock.

You felt his breath coast across your skin, all of your rational thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds in a windstorm as his intense gaze stroked over you like he was looking for a weakness.

“Not like that, I didn’t. You were drunk, Brock. Besides, I didn’t think you would remember it anyway.” You said.

Brock brushed his rough knuckles across your cheek causing you to exhale shakily.

“What about now, sweetheart?” He purred into your ear.

The way he was looking at you right now was difficult to resist but you didn’t want him to think he could just change the subject without giving you the apology you deserved.

“I…want…” You started to say.

Brock moved in closer for a kiss but you cut him off and finished your sentence.

“I still want that apology, Brock.” You whispered in his ear.

You watched his hand drop from your cheek to the couch before he growled as he stood up and walked away from you to cool off from you bruising his ego.

“Doll…YOU are the most frustrating woman!” He yelled.

Watching Brock seethe with anger only made him more desirable and you not-so-secretly loved getting under his skin.

“Just two little words, Brock.” You said softly.

Setting your tea on the coffee table, you stood up and slowly walked over to him. Brock was facing the wall, your lips close to his ear as his shoulders moved up and down in sync with his deep breaths.

He turned to face you, his lips ghosted over yours as he hissed in your face, “FINE! You win, sweetheart! You were right and I’m sorry! I was drunk and yes, I’m happy you cared enough to not let me drive home! Are ya happy now?!”

It was immediate that the wet spot formed on your panties and goosebumps erupted across your skin at the way Brock yelled in your face like that. Shocked at your own lack of restraint, your lips crashed against his as you pushed him up against the wall and quickly removed his leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

He covered your mouth with his own while winding strands of your hair around his thick fingers. You drew in a sharp breath as his tongue slipped between your lips to tangle with yours and you choked on your need for him before he pulled away.

“Most people are nervous around me but you’re not, are you, doll?” He asked.

He nipped down your jawline to your chin and left little love bites down your neck before his lips found yours again.

Visibly shaking, you replied, “Not right now, I’m not. I’ve dreamt about having your lips on mine like this.”

You felt his breath drift down your neck and shuddered when he replied, “Where else do you want my lips, sweetheart?”

Firmly pressed against his body, you could feel Brock’s hardening length against you, his hands tightened on your waist as a wicked smile stretched across his lips and he gazed at you with his warm honey colored eyes.

Only slightly teasing him, you replied, “Oh…I think you know.”

You didn’t want Brock to be gentle. You wanted him to take control and toss you around like a rag doll in every way he knew how. You weren’t just attracted to him because of his handsome face, you loved the harsh and commanding tone to his raspy voice, the way he possessively gripped your body and traced his calloused fingers across the soft skin of your stomach.

As shy as you presented yourself in public, you loved nothing more than matching feral energy with a man like Brock. He wasn’t wrong when he mentioned how you crossed your legs every time you saw him grab someone by the throat or bite down on your lower lip when he barks commands at other agents.

You loved it.

Pushing him toward the bedroom, Brock practically ripped the buttons off your jeans and tore your shirt in half. You pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing his hard as marble chiseled body underneath. You were right. His tight shirts didn’t leave much to the imagination to what was under them.

It was still hard to believe Brock Rumlow was in your bedroom, half naked, and feasting on your body like a wild animal. He traced his tongue along your collarbone and closed his lips around your nipple, ripping the air right out of your throat and making your voice disappear.

Tightly clutching the pillow underneath your head, your voice cracked as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your stomach, pausing just above your core before aggressively burying his face in between your thighs.

There was no mistaking that Brock was growling loudly into your pussy causing you to whimper at feeling him hum against your clit. Your fingers tangled in his thick dark hair, gently tugging on it as your orgasm began to build. Brock’s beard scratched at your inner thighs, making you wetter and ready to explode.

“Come for me, sweetheart. I wanna taste you.” He purred.

With your orgasm building steadily, burning heat merging in your stomach, your walls delightfully tightening while he continued giving you the tongue fucking of your life, sucking and licking at your overstimulated bundle of nerves like a man starved.

His strong hands prevented you from closing your legs around him as you hit your peak with his name fleeing from your lips. Your vision went shockingly white as he inserted a finger, turning your brain to pulp, and pumping it with rhythm, keeping you wet and ready for more.

With a piercing dryness in your throat and trying to catch your breath, you managed to shakily say, “B-brock. Fuck me.”

“That what you want, doll? Huh? Tell me again. Use those words, baby. Tell me you want me inside you…now.” He commanded.

You whispered, “I want you inside me, Brock…now.”

As you eagerly watched him remove his jeans, his cock sprang free and a smirk played across his lips as he watched your fingers replace his as you pleasured yourself, waiting for him to come back to bed.

After slipping on a condom, Brock watched you for a minute before you beckoned him back into your bed. He climbed on top of you, licked your own taste off of your fingers, captured your lips again, and slid into you with ease.

He pushed into you hard, making you cry out, and burying himself to the hilt. Brock fucked you rough and deep into the mattress, hitting just the right spot over and over again, capturing one of your breasts again, and biting down slightly as he listened to the strangled moans escaping your lips, and loving it.

The heat between the two of you is stifling but it only made you want him to be closer to you, deeper inside of you, and hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart.” Brock commanded, his voice was ragged, and his fingers were digging into your hips. “Tell me this is what you wanted, y/n. All those times you were watching me, did you wanna be underneath me like this? Takin’ my dick like a good girl.”

A breathless moan fled from your lips, into his ear as you replied, “Y-yes, I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time, Brock.”

One of his hands gently wrapped around your throat like a necklace as you rutted your hips up to meet his and matched your movements with his. Brock continued to slam into you, each thrust brought you closer to your release, and the heat between you was almost overwhelming.

Your walls began to tighten around him, a low gravelly moan fled from his lips as his rhythm became quicker and desperate. He was close, the sinful noises you made into his shoulder were music to his ears as you tightly clenched around him with a cry of his name followed by his release close behind.

He collapsed on top of you. Breathing heavily, his lips crushed against yours once again as your fingers glided through his soft hair.

“Fuck, doll.” He uttered.

As you tried to catch your breath, you replied with a wide smile, “You’re welcome.”

Brock chuckled.

“Such a smartass, baby.” Said Brock.

He planted himself next to you, letting his fingers gently dance up your arm, and you brushed his beard gently with your thumb. Brock kissed the palm of your hand, closed the gap between your bodies and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

He could tell you wanted to say something.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” Asked Brock.

You really liked him and hoped he felt the same way.

“Does this mean I can still come down and watch you in the training room?” You asked with a shy smile.

He smiled back and replied, “You gave me a better workout tonight than I’ve had in a long time. Of course you can, sweetheart.”

The rasp in his voice was so sexy, listening to him talk was making you wet all over again.

“I like you, Brock…obviously.” You said, shyly.

“I meant what I said that night, y/n. I think you are the prettiest woman in Comms, probably the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. So obviously, I like you too, doll.” Replied Brock.

You straddled him and said, “How ‘bout you have a drink with us next week? I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

He cupped your cheeks and his lips collided with yours while his hands tangled in your hair.

Brock replied with a smirk, “Only if you stay with me, sweetheart.”

You kissed him back and said with a warm smile, “I’d love to.”

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[nekoannie-chan]

Betrayed heart

Betrayed heart

Title: Betrayed heart.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Brock Rumlow X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader.

Word count: 562 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Brock betrayed you.

Major Tags: Betrayal, heartbroken, sad.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @the-slumberparty Navy & Roo’s Sundae Bar with the prompts:

"Flavour: Black cherry."

"Topping: Chocolate syrup & Toasted almonds."

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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You had survived the chaos of what had happened at the Triskelion and had joined the search team to locate any HYDRA members who may have escaped.

“Agent, we've detected a signal nearby,” your superior, Agent May, informed you over the earpiece. “Prepare for the descent.”

You nodded, adjusting your gear and making sure your weapons were ready.

As the helicopter landed, you advanced cautiously through the debris. Suddenly, you heard a sound behind you and turned, pointing your gun. There he was: Brock Rumlow wounded, but not defeated.

“So, I finally found you,” Brock said. “Or maybe you found me.”

“Give it up, Rumlow,” you replied firmly. “This is over for HYDRA.”

Brock held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but you knew you couldn't trust him. You felt weird, you had flirted in the past even though you never told him your feelings.

The next few days Brock was taken to a secret SHIELD facility for interrogation, you were assigned to his custody. You spent long hours in the interrogation room, trying to get information about HYDRA.

“Why won't you leave me alone?” growled Brock, his eyes locked on yours. “I'm not telling you anything.”

“Because there are people out there who are still in danger,” you replied, keeping your cool. “We need to know what you know.”

One night, you stood alone in the interrogation room, going over your notes. Brock was watching you from the other side of the glass.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked suddenly. “You could be anywhere, doing anything “ why here, with me?”

You didn't know what to answer.

One night, while you were in the interrogation room, Brock started talking about his life before HYDRA. He told you about how everything had changed.

“HYDRA gave me a purpose when everything else failed,” he said, his voice sounding full of bitterness. “But now... I don't know.”

“There's always a choice, Brock,” you replied. “You don't have to go down that path.”

“What about you, would you choose to be here if you could be anywhere else?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but fall in love with him.

“There's something you need to know,” Brock said “HYDRA isn't finished. There's an operation going on, and you're in danger.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don't want you to get hurt. Because... I care about you.”

You decided to trust him. Together, you planned an operation to stop HYDRA.

On the day of the operation, everything went wrong.

“I'm sorry,” he said before disappearing. “I had no choice.”

You woke up in a SHIELD hospital, injured but alive.

“I'm sorry,” Agent May told you one day while visiting you. “We didn't know HYDRA was so infiltrated. But you saved a lot of lives with your information.”

You wondered if you could ever forget if you could ever forgive.

One day, you received a package with no return address. Inside was a letter and a small box. With trembling hands, you opened the letter.

“I'm sorry.

I never meant to hurt you. But I couldn't escape what I am. I hope someday you can forgive me.

B.”

Inside the box was a small pendant in the shape of a skull and crossbones. You held it in your hand.

[tikus-library]

"Say You Like It"

Avengers AU - Quick Fic

Characters: Brock Rumlow x Reader x Bucky Barbee

Posted: Oct 11th

WARNINGS:

Summary: A disagreement about costumes

Notes: A small idea while sitting here without power thanks to hurricane Milton. Hope yall enjoy

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Read on Ao3

“The point is to WEAR a costume-”

“I am.”

You nearly snarled at him, “Brock, you are in uniform. Just wearing your tactical gear is not a costume,” you argue, as you notice Bucky come to a stop.

“Tell that to those men on your phone,” Brock shoots back with a smug tone.

You feel your face heat and Bucky snickers, both men knowing your addiction to COD cosplayers. “I am not dressing up then, you're so dumb!”

Bucky held up his hands, “Now now, no need to be hasty, I was sure you'd like Rumlows costume,” he pointed at the man, “show her properly,” he demanded.

Brock rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the wrists dragging you into him, you leaned back with a small exclamation surprised, but froze when you felt sharp fangs drag along your neck.

“W-wa-wait…” You gasped, dizzy as Brock followed his nipping with a stroke of his tongue.

“Say you like it,” Brock growled against your skin.

“I like it!” You managed, softening like butter in his hold.

Bucky caught your chin in his hand, making you look at him, “now, no more arguing, go get your costume on so we can get going”

Brock sighed and let you go, eyeing Bucky as you teetered towards the bedroom, “the fuck you dressed as?”

Bucky grinned, slipping a pair of black ears on, “a black cat.”

“Shut the fuck up..”

“Want to switch?” Bucky asked with a shit eating grin.

Brock grumbled, “you lick I bite?”

Both men laughed, already making plans on how to escape the damned costume party later.

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - three

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: cursing, violence, weapons, mentions of past abuse, people getting hurt, Bucky being too hot to handle

word count: 2.5k

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

Two | series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

Jasmine liked to use a boar bristle brush and oil to style Y/N’s hair when she was growing up. It started as a daily ritual with Y/N sitting between her legs while she worked the oil into her ends and brushed it into a braid. Sometimes if Victoria was nearby, Jasmine would do hers too but as Brock became more “present” he made her stop. He hated the smell of the oils and complained about how greasy it made his daughters look. As time passed and he became more harsh with his words (and fists), Jasmine started to only do it at night before they all went to bed. When the girls awoke in the morning, the oil wouldn’t be as noticeable, and thus Brock became none the wiser. 

Now without her mother’s gentle singing and tender hands, Y/N does the ritual on her own with her boar bristle brush in hand and oil in the other. She hums the songs Jasmine would sing as she slicks back her hair into a braided ponytail. The oil causes the light to reflect off and blind those who look at her the wrong way while the sleek manner doesn’t leave room for mistakes. Brock, the ever controlling man he is, demanded that she wear jewelry to make her appear more “girly and less threatening.” She wanted to roll her eyes at his appraisal of her normal appearance but decided that that was not the battle she wanted to fight for the moment. 

Victoria lended her a pair of tiered gold hoops and tried to get her to take more but Y/N refused. The years of training that their father had put them through stayed carved into her brain and she couldn’t shake the voice that screamed at her “Anything that isn’t essential to the mission will hold you back.” 

After she ties an elastic on the end of her braid, she grips the edge of the bathroom counter and stares at her reflection. Before her is a woman that she barely recognizes not because her makeup or hair is different. The woman looking back is full of malice and misery, ready to explode on the next person who wrongs her. Granted she had been hiding in Phoenix but she was healing and felt like she might find inner peace soon. The moment she stepped foot in New York, she had been transported back to the teenager she had been before she left and it pained her to feel that way again. 

Rather than feeling sorry for herself anymore, Y/N tears her eyes away and looks at the dress he gave her laying in her bed. No one knew that he had even been there, let alone left behind something akin to a gift. It shocked her that not even John noticed the blacked out car but then again, he seems more focused on watching her than the outside of the house. 

Her alarm rings, letting her know that she needs to be downstairs in the next 15 minutes or John will banging on her door. 

And 15 minutes on the dot, he is doing just that. She finishes putting on her heels and stands, brushing off her dress before opening the door. John goes to say something probably snarky and rude about keeping him waiting but he stands there with his mouth open, no words coming out. 

“Are my brother and sister ready?” Y/N asks, mildly annoyed at the way he obviously looks her up and down. 

“Wha…what?” he stutters, shaking his head to himself. 

She repeats her question as she pushes him back and closes the door behind her. He doesn’t get time to answer before Victoria and Niklaus call out to her from the foyer. Both are dressed to the nines with Niklaus in an all black suit and Victoria in a deep purple corset dress. She eyes Y/N and huffs for a moment as she crosses her arms. 

“Well that’s rude. You’re not wearing the dress I picked out for you AND you didn’t even tell me that you were going to match with Niklaus.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t even told that we were going to be matching,” Niklaus pipes up as he tries to hide his smirk. 

Y/N gives her sister a bored look, “I’m sorry I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb wearing a bright green dress.”

“It was emerald with a shimmery overlay. Excuse me if I wanted you to look like a model for once,” Victoria shoots back as she further inspects Y/N’s dress, “Where did you get this? I don’t remember it.”

“Oh,” she freezes for a second and meets Nikalus’ watchful gray eyes, “I packed it. I figured I was going to need something fancy.”

“How is a plain black dress ‘fancy?’”

Niklaus saves her and speaks for her, “Black dresses are timeless, Vic. Now let’s go. I’d rather not listen to our father complain about us being late.”

Victoria loops her arm in Y/N and whispers more about how the green dress was her favorite but this one is good too. They chuckle with each other and Y/N catches John’s eye for a second. A wave of unease washes over her but she shakes it off. 

Now is not the time to worry about other people’s emotions. Right now she needs to focus on the plan that Niklaus put together to kill the White Wolf and where to hide the weapons that he’s handing out in the car. 

Ear piece in place, Y/N has to endure the sounds of Victoria laughing and flirting with every man who looks her way. Niklaus occasionally begs her to shut up so they can focus but to no avail. She keeps up her charade of an interested party goer and gets some of the men to tell her where their target is. Those poor souls who give her what she wants are left wanting more as she blows them kisses and winks as she disappears into the crowd. 

She slides next to Y/N at the bar with an empty martini glass in hand, “He’s upstairs.”

Y?n glances at her before following her eyes to the staircase where at least ten men are guarding the upper level. 

“We have ear transmitters for a reason,” she says without taking her eyes off of the men. 

“I know but I like talking to people. It’s weird talking to myself.”

Niklaus’ voice crackles into their ears, “Victoria, find Y/N a way upstairs and past the guards. I won’t be far behind but please for the love of god don’t stand right next to each other.”

“Nic, they already know who we are and what we’re here to do probably so why does it matter?” Victoria shoots back. 

“Because we need to at least make an attempt before getting killed ourselves.”

“Fine,” she says with a flare of drama like normal as she pushes off of the bar and sneaks back into the crowd. Y/N goes to do the same but Steve appears at her side with a hand wrapped around her bicep and stops her. 

“Excuse me,” she sneers before she looks up to see who it is. 

“Hello again, Ms. Juárez,” he smiles down at her, “Rumlow, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That hasn’t be my name for years.”

“I don’t think your father would agree.”

“My father can shove it.”

With his hand still on her arm, he pulls her closer to him as he says, “Your sister was right.” “About?” she says back, hiding the underlying fear that is starting to boil up. 

“We know that you’re here and why.”

“Oh?”

“Ear transmitters are so 1990s,” he says as he plucks it from her ear and crushes it between his fingers.

She nods, desperately trying to search for Niklaus or Victoria in the crowd but comes up empty handed. Steve sees this and directs her attention to the staircase where they’re being led up by a group of men. 

“I have to admit, I’m disappointed that there wasn’t any fighting before we caught you three with you being the Snake after all,” he whispers into her ear as he tugs her along in the same direction, “Your father made it sound like you were going to be the end of all his enemies if they crossed him but you know, I don’t see that.”

“There’s something to being patient.”

“Patient or killing time so you don’t have to do this? Maybe you don’t have what it takes?”

“People die everyday, all I do is speed up the process.”

Steve chuckles as he drags her up the stairs, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say your little phone call with Boss made things complicated.”

“Good thing you don’t know shit,” she hisses and tries to jerk her arm away but he grips it even tighter and presses a gun to her lower back. 

“You’re wearing the dress he gave you, I think that’s evidence of some complication. Too bad your father is a fucking dumbass. Maybe things would’ve ended up differently.”

“Are you implying he would’ve arranged some bull shit political marriage with your boss and me? I’m not some mob princess. I don’t submit to men like you two.”

“Id love the chance to try but boss on the other hand. He loves fiery girls like you.”

Y/N takes a deep breath before spinning around, gripping the gun and turning it so it’s pointed at Steve, “Too bad we’re not in some teenage girl’s fantasy land and he won’t get a chance. Where are Niklaus and Victoria? We’re leaving now and you will not follow us.” Steve leans down so he’s inches from her face with a wolfish grin on his own, “You’re not in a position to be negotiating, little snake.” 

With that he shoves her through a door and she stumbles into a room full of men armed to the t. The siblings in question are tied to chairs in the center with fully automatic guns trained on them. The man she saw drop the gift box stands between them wearing a quite bored expression. Steve closes the door and shoves her shoulder again further into the room before forcing her to sit in her own chair that faces her siblings. 

His hot breath fans over the side of her face as he leans down, “Play nice.”

Y/N spits in his face and he drags a hand down to wipe it away as he lets out a terrifying belly laugh. The other man produces a pocket knife and swiftly brings it down on Victoria’s hand. She lets out a wail of pain and screams for them to be let go while Y/N looks at her with no emotion. 

“Are you going to behave now?” Steve asks her and she nods slightly, “Good I would hate to ruin her pretty face.”

“That’s enough,” another male voice calls from behind her. It feels familiar but in a way that makes her skin crawl and her flight or fight response activate. The harsh and thick weight of it forces her lungs to expel their air but that undertone she couldn’t place reveals itself; there’s a sense of chaos that lives in the deep baritones of his voice. She shutters briefly when she hears his shoes hit the hard wood as he walks up to her. He sets his cold hands on her shoulders, chilling her to her core but she straightens up and keeps her head held high. 

“I see you’re wearing my dress,” he whispers to her and her only, “You look gorgeous in it, dragă, far more beautiful than I could’ve imagined.”

She wants to shake his hands off and forget the compliments but she can’t. His hands squeeze her shoulders as if he’s going to let go but he doesn’t and instead he starts to speak to her siblings. 

“Niklaus,” he says in a condescending tone, “I’m disappointed in you. Of all the plans that you could’ve come up with, this one is the one you went with?” Niklaus casts his eyes to the ground in shame because he knew better, he knew this would end badly but still he went through with it. 

“And Victoria, ever the minx. You weren’t even subtle with it, asking anyone who would listen where I was,” Y/N can feel his gaze shift to her, “and you, my little snake. You were a breath of fresh air albeit underwhelming. Given all of the stories your father has told me, I expected far more than this half assed attempt. I’m tempted to let you all go and make you fight for the excitement.”

Victoria cries harder at his words and everyone can feel the White Wolf roll his eyes at her weak try at gaining sympathy. Steven even yawns at how bored he is while the other man between them shifts on his feet. 

“Sam,” the White Wolf says to that man, “take the knife out.”

He does as he’s told and unceremoniously rips the knife out, causing Victoria to crumble forward as much as her binds will allow and sob even louder. 

The White Wolf lets out a disapproving sigh and grips at Y/N’s shoulders again to get her attention. 

“I’ll let your brother and sister go,” he starts as he lets her go and circles so that she can finally see him up close, “if you agree to help me kill your father.”

“Careful boss, she likes to spit,” Steve piped up but it falls on deaf ears.

The man crouching before her is striking in an unsettling way and that feeling increases tenfold with the way he’s solely focused on her. She finds it in herself to speak and in the meantime she prays that her voice isn’t shaking when she asks about what more he wants from her.  

“That’s all.”

“That can’t be all. There’s always more.”

“No really that’s all; I’ll let them go on the condition that you help me kill Brock but if you try to pull one over on me, I will make their deaths long and painful. I might even have you do it, depends on how I feel that day,” he says with a smile and a casual tone that makes her want to punch him. 

Y/N scoffs at his proposal, “i can’t believe you.”

He furrows his thick brows at her. “You already lied to me. You said there was nothing else but then proceeded to add that you’d kill my brother and sister if I don’t help you.”

His tongue pokes at the inside of his lower lip before it darts out and wets his lips, “Well you caught me there but that doesn’t change my deal; help me and they live or don’t and they die.”

“Y/N don’t do it,” Niklaus shouts from behind them, “Please don’t do it.”

An annoyed look takes over the White Wolf’s face and he says something to Sam in another language. Exactly what was said doesn’t matter because Sam slams the butt of a gun into Niklau’s temple and renders him unconscious. Victoria chokes on another cry and Sam does the same to her. Y/N’s nose flares in anger and she tries to jump forward but Steve holds her in place. 

The White Wolf grips her chin and forces her attention back to him, “Deal or no deal, little snake?”

“I don’t do business with fucking pricks like you,” she spits out and his grip gets tighter. 

“Your future won’t be too bright if you don’t lower your business standards. I’ll ask again and if I have to ask a third time, I’ll just shoot them.”

Y/N stares into his soulless blue eyes and searches for any hint of humanity left. 

She finds nothing. 

“Deal.”

[nickeverdeen]

MCU masterlist

Match-ups:

Peter Quill

Peter Parker 1

Shuri

Peter 1 #2

Peter 1

Peter 3

Bucky

Sam

Peter 1

Steve

(you can also choose a group in which I’ll pair you with the characters from it or you can just leave it in general and I’ll choose from all of the groups)

Preferences:

The original 6 Avengers reacting to you kissing them while being drunk

The young Avengers and their love language

(you can choose which characters you want or whatever group you want)

Avengers

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

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From Crayons to Canvases | Doctor Strange x platonic fem!reader

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Spider-Men

Peter Parker 1 (Tom Holland)

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Caught in the Act (Sort of)

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Brock Rumlow

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Korg

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The young Avengers

Yelena Belova

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Kate Bishop

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Bodyguard!Kate Bishop x Mafia boss fem!reader

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