#captain america x black!reader

[apocalypse-shuffle]

SAM WILSON | CAPTAIN AMERICA/FALCON (the mcu | tfatws | captain america: the winter soldier)

—

“Arm Day” (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader)

| You don’t show up for your running “date” with Sam so he shows up at your place to get a different kind of exercise in.

| SFW, exercising, romantic tension(?)

| Jesus, my summary is very nearly an innuendo. (Pic Source — Captain America: Civil War [peachy-ash icon], Captain America: The Winter Soldier [iconpsds icon], The Falcon & The Winter Soldier [marina-na-na icon])

| Inspo: Instagram

| 1k+ words

It’s the sound of your phone buzzing against your nightstand that wakes you up, and with a groan you lift your head to squint at it.

‘Sam Wilson’ flashes across your screen and you in no way can suppress the eye roll that elicits.

He was your gym buddy more often than not, but this was getting ridiculous.

When y’all ran laps together he’d slow down for you so you could keep one another company. When you were on the treadmill he’d be running in the one right beside you and hold out his arm if you stumbled so you wouldn’t go flying, emergency stopping the machine for you. You would spot each other, go out to eat afterwards, even make meal plans together. Sam was your number one.

He was also more of a pain in your ass than your actual personal trainers had ever been in the past.

You grope around for the phone, lifting it up to your ear once your clumsy fingers stumble across it.

“Yeah?”

Your grunt is met with an honest to god laugh. At this early in the morning?

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Sam, please, what do you want?”

A scoff this time.

“Y/N, it’s Saturday. Get your ass up, we got places to be.”

Still laying on your stomach you flip your head over to press the other side of your face into your pillow and switch your phone to the other ear accordingly, eyes slipping back closed.

“We? I told you I’m not leaving my house today.”

A beat of silence and then: “Okay…”

“Awesome. Have fun sweating by-”

“I’ll see you in five.”

You choke on your spit, words coming out in a whoosh and eyes snapping open.

“Fuck no! Sam!”

The sound of the dial tone reaches your ears and you curse, shooting out of bed, sleep no longer an option.

You drop your phone on your sheets and then scramble around for some shorts. If you could get to Sam before he got all the way to your apartment maybe you’d be able to shove his overactive ass back in his car.

In a frenzy you stuff your phone in your pocket and start towards the front door scratching at your head when it hits you. You’re scratching at your bare head.

“Shit- where in the world…?”

You whip around and start back towards your bedroom to look for where your head wrap had hidden itself during the night. You weren’t going all the way downstairs looking a mess.

Anywhere on your bed was a no show. It wasn’t hanging off your lamp like you’d found it once (who knows how it ended up there in the first place), and it wasn’t under your bed.

You're just about to throw caution to the wind and run out as you are regardless when two things happen at once. You find your wrap sunken into your shoes at the end of your bed and someone knocks at your door.

“Oh come the fuck on.” You grit your teeth, snatch up and firmly situate your traitorous wrap, then stomp over to jerk open the door.

“No.”

In front of you, dressed in a gray pair of sweats, Sam frowns lightly, thick brows raising.

“You made a promise,” he hedges.

You flip off said thick - accusatory - eyebrows.

“Screw my promise. I'm going to stay home and you’re going to leave. Goodbye.”

The door closes right in his face. He doesn’t take the chance not to let it, only to step back so he doesn’t break his nose. You appreciate that.

“Now hold on-! Aw come on, Y/n!” There’s muffled shuffling behind the door, him adjusting his gym bag more than likely, before he knocks again.

While you ignore him to start taking stuff out the freezer for a smoothie - you were already up, you might as well make it worth your while - he knocks three more times.

It’s when your phone starts buzzing on the countertop that you cave, stomping back over to the door and cracking it open just enough for him to see the glower on your face.

“What part of ‘Bye’ isn’t clicking? I’m tired, my muscles ache in places I didn’t even know were possible, and if I have to meal prep anymore I’m going to scream.”

He peeks through the sliver.

“Just one little circuit, alright? I brought everything with me so you won’t have to leave… .” His eyes have taken on a particular brightness that makes you just a little weak in the knees. “I’ll even cook for you after.”

Goddamnit. Your face smooths out from the glare you were rocking and Sam’s lights up.

“See? That sounds nice, now, doesn’t it?”

“Fine. A full meal, not no damn sandwich, and you make my smoothie before we start.”

“Deal. Thought you were gonna break my heart for a minute there, I'm really glad we pulled through though.”

“Yeah yeah,” you grumble and drag him and all his crap in.

_ _ _

“If you’re still aching after two days then we probably have to adjust your routine,” he curls upward and the muscles in his arms flex, stretching the sleeve of his maroon shirt to its limit. “I’ll take a pen and paper to it and we’ll figure it out, that fine by you Queen of Sheba?”

You scoff while going down on your push-ups.

“Yeah, it’s fine Sam,” you make sure to catch his eye as you straighten your arms to come up, “thanks.”

He smiles, switching to do curls with his left arm.

You go down, but end up watching unblinking for a few seconds as the muscles on his bicep become well defined peaks.

Hn.

Sam glances up and you rapidly realize that you’ve been laying on the ground and staring creepily at him for the better part of a minute.

Roughly, you clear your throat; Sam smirks and seems to go deliberately slow on his next curl. The way you gulp hurts a little.

“See something you like?”

Scowling, you roll your eyes and pick back up where you left off on your push-ups. You’re focusing intently on the tile underneath your palms when you answer him.

“No,” you snap to the floor.

Everything about Sam’s laugh says he doesn’t believe you worth a damn.

You don’t particularly care what he thinks though; something that you reiterate over and over in your head as you go on to the next workout.

Where the fuck Sam’s forward ass got off hiking a portable pull-up bar up to your apartment you did not know, but here the thing is, sitting nice and pretty like it belonged to be an absolute eyesore in the middle of your living room.

You sigh and decidedly don’t stare at him too hard as he eases down to the floor to take your previous place and start his own round of push-ups, and probably a few floor presses or something considering he brings the dumbbells down with him.

On your end starting your pull-ups starts off relatively easy. They’ve never been your favorite - and you’re certain they never will be - but at least you could do them now since you started training with Sam almost a year ago now.

Sam was neat like that. Uplifting without slipping into condescension, and being one of the few people who could push you so thoroughly out of your comfort zone.

Certainly the only person you allowed to upheave your more flexible boundaries with so little push back.

Breath huffing out of you you force yourself to rest before starting on your next set, eyes running over your workout partner’s back and the way the muscles there are also incredibly defined as he engages them.

It was a little unfair honestly. Who gave Sam Wilson the right to look so perfect? With a grunt you start working out again.

Eventually you begin waning, you can feel it in the way your arms instantly start to shake as you try to pull your body weight up for your next set, and the excess heat building in your fingers. How even as you attempt to swing your legs to get more momentum to do the pull-up you just barely manage to get one in before your arms give out, straightening back, and you’re left just hanging there.

“Goddamn,” you curse. Today really was just not your day.

Distantly you note the soft thud of weights being set down at your left but you're so focused that you don’t notice Sam move until he’s already in front of you.

He jumps up and you make a startled noise as you come face to face before he does a pull-up as easy as can be. Your lips purse.

He grins, “I got you, come on. One more rep.”

You sigh but he’s looking right into your eyes with that soft grin on his face - and you’re a sucker - so you cave in less than five seconds. Also, you don’t want to keep hanging any longer than necessary.

“I might not have one more in me, period, but I’ll try,” you murmur as you look away. You prep your muscles to move, assuming the right position, when Sam shaking his head in your peripheral catches your attention.

“Didn’t I just say I had you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s swinging just that much closer on one arm - fucking show off - and grabbing enough of your thigh to nudge you forward so he can get his arm around your upper leg and then pull you in.

“You’re such a show off, you know that?”

You still follow his line of reasoning, though; pulling up enough that you can get both of your legs around his waist.

Sam just laughs, teeth glinting.

“I’m just happy to help.”

“Ha,” you mock, but when he pulls up you do so with him. Your arms bend, but not with nearly as much strain as before with him taking the majority of your weight, and the pressure on your core significantly lessens.

You won’t admit to having to bite back a smile at the feel of him tucked against you.

“You okay now?”

“Yeah,” you pant out, legs tightening absentmindedly around his waist. Sam grunts lowly in the back of his throat. “You in the habit of catching people like this?”

The look that briefly flashes across his face is far more severe than you think your question merits, and when Sam answers he makes sure to look you in the eye.

“I try to be.”

Then the moment’s broken, he’s pulling you both back up into your final exercise of the day and you’re left wondering where the hell Sam Wilson got off making you love him like this.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! If there’s any typos I’ll catch them later.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[galatially]

❝𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐈: truthfully

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 x 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — and if i could say anything, i would say that it will always be you; it's hard being in love with your coworkers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 560

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, pining, general fluff

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — this was, at one point, just gonna be one part but it's far too much story for just one part lol

Steve Rogers was a menace — and he didn’t even know it. 

When you’d met the First Avenger, as expected, you’d been taken aback at just how…bright he was. Everything about him was bright and warm and nestled between your ribcage like a kitten cuddled into its mother. He was always sweet and polite, never without a smile on his face when you spoke, completely different from the kind of men you’d come across in your lifetime. 

And damn you for being so aware of him. Whether he came into the med bay or popped his head into you and Dr. Helen Cho’s shared office, your senses heightened. You noticed the lilt of his words or the one stray hair that was always hanging between his brows in a boy-next-door kind of way. Only people that didn’t realize their effects on others spoke like that, unfazed. 

You’d intellectualized your feelings as normal chemical reactions in the brain: the muscle simply going through the machinations of being around someone attractive. Dopamine, norepinephrine cortisol, and the serotinergic system working in tandem. Simple explanations for simple reactions. 

You’re a woman of science, after all. 

“Bitch, just fuck him and move on,” your best friend, Serena, said, her eye roll coloring her tone.

You cradled your cell phone between your cheek and your ear as your grabbed a bottle of wine from your fridge. “I like my job, Rena.” 

“And what does that have to do with letting that fine specimen of man break your back into next year?”

An airy laugh left your chest. “He doesn’t see me in that way and I’m not some lovesick teenager.”

“Nat says that he asks about you all the time.”

“Your girlfriend also took six months to ask you out,” you countered. You worked the cork out of the mouth of the bottle and poured a hefty glass. 

Serena let out a dreamy sigh. “I know, right? She’s so precious.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“And I’m telling you that you need to make your move and ride that — ”

“Good night, Serena,” you said, disconnecting the call. You took a sip of wine, mulling over your best friend’s words. As embarrassing as it was to admit, your crush on Steve — obvious or not — could never be. You both worked together and he was…well, him. If the two of you were to break up, it’d be the only thing people talked about. No longer would you be a decorated private physician, you’d be the woman that got dumped by Captain America. 

Your phone buzzed again; a text from the golden man in question. 

I hope you had a good day today :)

One day, when you were bold enough, you’d get Natasha Romanoff right in the jaw for giving Steve your number. He’d only recently started messaging you and every notification made your stomach flip in a way that you could only describe as violent. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek as your fingers slowly typed out a response.

I did! How was —

No, too eager.

Oh, you know, just another day in the bay! :):)

You almost threw your phone at that one. What was this, fourth grade? 

I hope you had a good day, too, Captain :)

You turned your phone on its face and groaned out loud. 

You really fucking hated liking Steve Rogers. 

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — are y'all ready for my interpretation on "they only shared one bed"?

[waltermis]

I miss them 🥹🥲

[moonlight-ee]

That’s America’s ass!

[romanoffshouse]

Y/N: Bye Natasha!

Y/N: Bye Tony!

Y/N: Bye Steve!

Y/N: Bye Bucky!

Y/N: Bye Natasha!

Tony: You said 'Bye Natasha' twice.

Y/N: I like Natasha.

[mintyys-blog]

CRUSHED CONFUSION— bucky barnes

WARNINGS: masturbation, sexual frustration, implied sex.



You weren’t supposed to be like this.

The past few nights had been unbearable. You tossed and turned in bed, frustration coiling deep in your stomach, your body restless. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wouldn’t come—not when your thoughts were completely consumed by him.

Steve.

The golden boy. The man you’d been crushing on for ages, silently, secretly. No one knew, and you liked it that way. He was everything you could ever want—strong yet gentle, kind yet firm. You imagined his hands on you, his soothing voice whispering sweet things in your ear, his soft lips pressing against your skin.

And so, in the dead of night, unable to take the heat between your legs anymore, you reached for your vibrator.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander. You imagined Steve above you, his lips brushing over yours, his hands trailing down your body, slow and careful—because of course, he’d be gentle with you. He’d take his time, savor you, worship you.

Your back arched, your breath coming out in soft gasps as pleasure built higher and higher.

But then—A different voice entered your mind.

A raspier, deeper voice.

Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.

Your breath hitched. That wasn’t Steve. That wasn’t even close.

Suddenly, your fantasy shifted. Rough hands replaced soft ones. Teasing lips, a knowing smirk, dark blue eyes that didn’t hold gentle adoration—but something far more dangerous.

Bucky.

You whimpered, your thighs clenching. Why were you thinking about him? You barely spoke to Bucky. Sure, he was attractive—anyone with eyes could see that—but he wasn’t Steve. He was sharp where Steve was soft, unfiltered where Steve was polite.

But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

In your mind, Bucky wasn’t gentle. He didn’t take his time—he took what he wanted. He’d pin you down, his metal arm holding you in place, his breath hot against your ear as he growled against your skin. He wouldn’t whisper sweet nothings—no, he’d taunt, tease, command.

Your body tensed, pleasure hitting you like a freight train. And when you came undone, it wasn’t Steve’s name that tumbled from your lips.

It was Bucky’s.

Your eyes snapped open, your chest rising and falling rapidly as shock coursed through you.

What the hell just happened?

You stared at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest. You had never thought about Bucky like that before. At least… you didn’t think you had. So why the hell did your body react to him in a way it never did for Steve?

You rolled over, groaning into your pillow.

You were so screwed.

—

Avoiding Bucky was easier said than done.

You tried. You really did. You took the long way around hallways, busied yourself whenever he entered the room, refused to make eye contact. But it was like the universe wanted you to suffer—because, of course, you ended up being paired with him for a mission.

And it was a disaster.

You couldn’t focus. Every time he spoke, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Every time he moved, your eyes betrayed you, flickering to the way his muscles flexed beneath his tactical gear. And every time he touched you—even just a simple brush of his fingers—your breath caught in your throat.

You were losing it.

The worst part? He noticed.

Bucky kept giving you these looks—curious, amused, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying every nervous twitch, every stuttered response.

And then the mission went to hell.

The building was collapsing. You were supposed to clear out quickly, but a wrong turn led the two of you straight into a locked storage room, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind you.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, trying the handle. It didn’t budge.

You swallowed hard, pressing your back against the opposite wall. The room was small, barely enough space for the two of you. The dim emergency lighting cast shadows over Bucky’s sharp features, making him look even more intimidating.

“Alright, doll, let’s get this open,” he said, stepping closer.

Too close.

You stiffened as his chest nearly brushed against yours. The scent of gunpowder and something distinctly Bucky surrounded you, making your head spin. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and suddenly, you weren’t thinking about the mission anymore.

You were thinking about that night. The way you moaned his name. The way you imagined his hands gripping you, his breath against your skin—

Heat rushed to your face. Oh, God.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You nodded too quickly. “Y-Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!”

His brows furrowed. “You sure? You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” you squeaked.

He gave you a look. “Sweetheart, you’ve barely said a word to me all week, and now you look like you’re about to pass out.”

You bit your lip, cursing yourself. Get it together!

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing!”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a damn lie.”

“I just—” You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “I just need some space, okay?”

Bucky’s expression shifted—his amusement fading into something more serious. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Your stomach twisted. He almost sounded… hurt.

“No! No, you didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. It’s me. I’m the problem.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked, your body betrayed you again. Heat bloomed in your chest, your pulse quickening. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

Bucky’s expression flickered. His eyes darkened just slightly, and you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch—like he knew exactly what was running through your head.

“You’re blushing,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. “No, I’m not.”

He smirked. “You so are.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Bucky stepped closer again, his voice dropping. “What changed, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

You could not tell him the truth. No way in hell.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried, but even you didn’t believe it.

Bucky did not look convinced. In fact, his smirk only grew.

“Oh, I think you do,” he murmured.

You let out a strangled noise, your legs feeling like jelly. This was so much worse than you imagined.

Bucky knew.

You could see it in his eyes—the flicker of amusement, the slow realization creeping into his expression. He might not have figured out everything, but he damn sure knew something was up.

You swallowed hard, your back pressing against the cold metal shelves behind you. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape his piercing gaze.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drawled, tilting his head. “You’re actin’ real strange.”

“I’m not!” you blurted, voice higher than usual.

His smirk widened. “Lyin’ to a supersoldier? Bold move.”

You clenched your fists, heat crawling up your neck. damn it, why was he so—

“I think I figured it out.” His voice dipped lower, teasing.

Your breath hitched. “Figured what out?”

Bucky stepped forward, erasing the last bit of space between you. His body just barely grazed yours, the heat of him suffocating in the small, dimly lit storage room. You swore your heart stopped beating.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, watching you like a predator cornering its prey. “Blushing every time I’m near. Jumping outta your skin when I speak.”

“I—I don’t—”

His flesh hand lifted, brushing the barest hint of your wrist. A barely-there touch, but it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Tell me the truth, doll.” His voice was softer now. Less teasing, more… something else. Something unreadable.

Your throat went dry. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“I…” You squeezed your eyes shut. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t—

But the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I thought about you.”

Silence.

Your eyes snapped open. Bucky had gone completely still, his expression unreadable. You wanted to die, wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

His fingers twitched at his side. “…What?”

You exhaled shakily, pressing your palms against your burning face. “Oh my God, forget I said anything.”

“No.” His voice was sharp. Commanding. “Say it again.”

You groaned. “Bucky, I really don’t think—”

“Say it.”

Your breath hitched. You peeked up at him through your fingers. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and searching. The teasing lilt from before was gone.

You licked your lips nervously. “I thought about you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

His nostrils flared, his metal hand curling into a fist. His reaction only made the heat inside you worse.

“When?” he rasped.

Your entire body ignited. He knew exactly what he was asking.

You whimpered, turning your face away. “Bucky—”

“When, sweetheart?” he pressed, his voice lower now, almost dangerous.

Your heart pounded against your ribs. You couldn’t lie. Not when he was looking at you like that, like he was waiting for you to confirm whatever thought was running through his head.

“At Night,” you whispered. “In my room.”

The air crackled between you.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his metal fingers twitching. He looked tense. Restless. Almost… desperate.

You swallowed hard. “Say something.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Then, before you could react, he let out a low chuckle.

You froze. “What’s so funny?”

He smirked, eyes flickering over your face. “You’ve been drivin’ yourself crazy over this, haven’t you?”

Your cheeks burned. “Obviously!”

Another chuckle. “And all this time, you’ve been avoiding me ‘cause you’re embarrassed?”

“Yes!”

Bucky hummed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. His eyes were still locked on yours, intense and unreadable.

Then, suddenly, he leaned in.

You gasped, your body pressing further into the shelves. He was so close, his breath fanning over your cheek, his scent overwhelming.

“You should’ve told me sooner, doll,” he murmured, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your knees nearly buckled. “Bucky—”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, his smirk softer now. More genuine.

“Next time?” His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your mouth fell open, your entire body going hot.

Before you could even begin to process that, the storage door burst open, and Sam’s voice rang out.

“The hell are you two doing in here?”

You nearly collapsed.

Your entire body froze.

Sam stood in the doorway, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. The overhead lights from the hallway cast his shadow into the room, but it was nothing compared to the tension hanging in the air between you and Bucky.

You scrambled back, nearly tripping over your own feet. “N-Nothing! We weren’t doing anything!”

Sam’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his frown deepening. “Uh-huh.”

Bucky, on the other hand, was too calm. Leaning casually against the shelf, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lifting his chin toward you, he murmured, “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Oh, that smug bastard.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” you blurted, pushing past him. “Absolutely not! We were just—uh—trying to get the door open. Which is open now! Thanks, Sam! Bye!”

You didn’t wait for a response. You bolted down the hall, your face on fire, heart pounding so hard you swore it would burst.

You didn’t stop until you were safely inside your room, pressing your back against the door.

What the hell just happened?

You exhaled sharply, running a hand over your face. Your whole body was still buzzing, replaying the way Bucky had looked at you. The way his voice dipped when he told you—

“Next time, let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your stomach flipped.

You needed to get a grip.

—

The next day, you tried to go back to avoiding Bucky.

Tried and failed.

Because unlike before—when he was amused but oblivious—now he knew.

And he wasn’t letting you get away with it.

Everywhere you turned, he was there. Not even being subtle about it. Sitting next to you at breakfast, standing way too close in the gym, brushing against your arm in the hallway. And every time, he’d send you these looks.

Like he was waiting.

Like he was daring you to bring it up.

It was infuriating.

By day three, you were at your breaking point.

“Why are you like this?!” you hissed at him in the common room, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

Bucky just smirked, sipping his coffee. “Like what?”

“Like this!” You threw your hands up. “Following me around, staring at me, teasing me—”

His grin widened. “I like teasin’ you.”

Your face burned. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You gasped. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I literally do.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you hated me, you wouldn’t have been moanin’ my name the other night.”

Your soul left your body.

Natasha—who had been minding her own business on the couch—choked on her drink.

You turned bright red, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I—you—Nat, I—”

Nat raised her hands. “Nope. Nope, I don’t wanna know. I don’t wanna know.” She stood, grabbing her coffee. “I’m just gonna leave you two to… whatever this is.”

You watched in horror as she walked out, giving you a knowing smirk before disappearing down the hall.

You turned back to Bucky, who looked way too pleased with himself.

“You’re evil,” you whispered.

He took another sip of coffee, completely unfazed. “And yet, you still thought about me.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “I hate you.”

Bucky chuckled.

And then, to your absolute horror—he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Liar.”

You were going to die.

Not in battle, not on a mission—no, you were going to combust from sheer humiliation.

Bucky’s lips barely brushed your ear, but it was enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine. The heat of him, the teasing rasp in his voice—it was too much.

You launched yourself backward, nearly knocking over the coffee table in your attempt to put space between you.

“I hate you so much,” you hissed, face on fire.

Bucky just smirked, completely at ease. “You keep sayin’ that, sweetheart, but your body’s tellin’ me something real different.”

Your mouth dropped open in pure horror. “Oh my God—”

“Bucky, stop tormenting her,” Steve’s voice cut in as he entered the room, arms crossed.

You immediately snapped to attention. Steve.

Right. You were supposed to have a crush on Steve. Not his insufferably smug best friend who had somehow taken up permanent residence in your head and between your legs.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly. He glanced at Steve, then back at you.

You quickly looked away, cheeks still burning.

Steve sighed. “I don’t know what you did, but knock it off.”

Bucky raised his hands in mock innocence. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

Steve gave him a look before turning to you. “You okay?”

Your stomach twisted with guilt. Steve was being sweet, as always, but… his presence didn’t have the same effect on you anymore.

Not like Bucky.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

Steve studied you for a second, then nodded. “Alright. We’ve got training in ten. Don’t be late.”

With that, he left the room.

The moment he was gone, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you again. When you turned to glare at him, his smirk had disappeared—replaced with something… unreadable.

Something that made your heart stutter.

“You don’t look at him the way you look at me,” Bucky murmured.

Your breath caught.

You should have denied it. Should have told him he was wrong. Should have done something to wipe that knowing look off his stupidly attractive face.

But you didn’t.

Because he was right.

And you had no idea what to do about it.

—

You avoided Bucky for the rest of the day. Again.

This time, though, it wasn’t just out of embarrassment—it was because you were confused.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that Steve was the one you wanted. That he was your dream guy. That he was perfect.

And yet…

Why did Bucky’s voice send a thrill down your spine?

Why did his teasing make your pulse race?

Why did the idea of him pinning you against a wall make your knees weak?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door that night.

Almost.

You hesitated, then slowly opened it—only to find Bucky standing there, leaning against the frame.

Your heart skipped. “Bucky—”

“We need to talk.” His voice was different. No teasing, no smugness. Just serious. Low.

Your stomach flipped.

You hesitated, but stepped aside, letting him in.

He closed the door behind him, then turned to you, arms crossed. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

You swallowed hard. “Nothing’s going on.”

Bucky scoffed. “Bullshit.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Bucky, I don’t—”

“Is it Steve?”

You froze.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “You still want him?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

Because you didn’t know.

You had spent so long thinking you did. But now? After the other night? After Bucky had wormed his way into your head and stayed there?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

Bucky exhaled sharply. “I ain’t him,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I ain’t the golden boy. I ain’t gentle. I ain’t soft.” His eyes met yours, dark and intense. “But don’t pretend you don’t want me anyway.”

Your breath hitched.

The air crackled between you, thick with something neither of you wanted to name.

You could lie. You could tell him he was wrong. You could pretend that your body didn’t burn whenever he was near.

But instead, you whispered—

“…I don’t know what I want.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours. His metal fingers twitched at his side.

Then, after a long pause—he nodded.

“Figure it out,” he murmured, voice rough. “But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

And then, before you could even breathe, he turned and walked out—leaving you wrecked in the middle of your room.

You barely slept.

Bucky’s words replayed in your head over and over again.

“Figure it out. But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—like he knew you wanted him, like he was daring you to admit it—had left you restless.

And the worst part? He was right.

You didn’t want Steve. Not really. Maybe you had at one point, but now?

You wanted Bucky.

You wanted his teasing smirks, his sharp wit, his rough hands. You wanted the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to get under your skin.

You wanted him.

And you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

So, before you could second-guess yourself, you slipped out of bed and made your way to his room.

—

Bucky opened the door on the first knock, like he’d been waiting.

His eyes flickered over your face, searching. “Sweetheart—”

“I figured it out,” you blurted, pulse racing.

Bucky stilled.

You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I want you.”

Something shifted in his expression—his features darkening, his jaw tightening. His metal fingers curled around the doorframe.

“You sure?” His voice was low, rough.

“Yes.” No hesitation. No doubt.

For a second, he just looked at you, unreadable. Then, without another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you.

—

The next morning, you woke up tangled in Bucky’s sheets, his arm draped heavily over your waist.

Your entire body ached in the best way possible.

You blinked, your mind still hazy from the night before. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his voice had sounded against your ear—low, rough, possessive.

A flush crept up your neck.

You shifted slightly, and Bucky grumbled, tightening his grip around you. “Mm. Not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

Your heart flipped.

You bit your lip, hesitating. “So, um…”

Bucky cracked one eye open, smirking. “Yeah?”

You swallowed. “What… what does this mean?”

His smirk softened. He reached up, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “It means you’re mine.”

Your breath caught.

He tilted his head. “That a problem?”

You stared at him—at the cocky smirk, the warmth in his blue eyes, the certainty in his voice.

And, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel confused.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “No.”

Bucky grinned. “Good.”

Then he pulled you back down, pressing his lips to yours—like he had no intention of letting you go.

[cece693]

Affectionate

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: bucky being treated like a normal being, male reader is very affectionate, kinda like tony, flirting like lil puppies

“Barnes, my sweet metal-armed dumpling, you’ve got bedhead.”

You say it with a chuckle as you effortlessly drape an arm around Bucky’s broad shoulders, and for a moment, the entire room goes silent. Natasha’s trained eyes narrow from across the conference table, ready to spring into action. Tony’s eyebrows shoot up behind his tinted glasses, and Steve actually tenses, fists tightening like he’s expecting Bucky to toss you across the room at any second. All around, the team braces themselves, anticipating a meltdown—a flashback—anything resembling the Winter Soldier they still fear might be lingering inside the man you have so casually slung your arm over.

In the resulting quiet, Bucky’s expression flickers, and for a heartbeat, you wonder if the Avengers might be right. His jaw flexes, and his fingers curl slightly before unclenching.

Then he lets out a small huff of a laugh, the corners of his lips lifting, and you feel his posture relax against your side. “Seriously, you’re making a scene,” he murmurs, quieter than usual. But there’s absolutely no bite behind his voice, no threat—just the husky edge that always manages to send a pleasant shiver through you. “Knock it off,” he adds, though there’s a ghost of a smile there.

Knock it off? Absolutely not. The man is gorgeous—dark hair still damp from a shower, the mechanical arm catching the overhead lights, his face etched with haunted lines that only make him look even more rugged and unfairly attractive. How can you possibly resist? You’re only human (albeit an Avenger-human with a penchant for tackling alien invasions and Hydra remnants). But still, you have eyes.

You just grin, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze before loosening your hold. “Aww, Barnes, you know you’d miss it if I did.”

Bucky grumbles something in reply, but there’s a lightness there, an ease he didn’t carry before. The rest of the team, however, remains on full alert—like big cats itching to pounce. Steve in particular looks about two seconds away from physically peeling you off of Bucky. Even Clint, who was half-dozing in the corner, sits up, eyes keen.

“Cap,” Clint warns softly, nodding toward where your hand is still lingering near Bucky’s nape, fingertips idly tracing the spot where flesh meets vibranium plating.

Steve clears his throat. “Everything okay there, Buck?”

Everyone seems to hold their breath again, and you can practically see the tension in the air. Poor Bruce is looking uncertain, Wanda is biting her lip, and Sam’s eyebrows are drawn together in concern. They’re so worried that Bucky’s going to have an episode, or get triggered, or that he’s going to accidentally crush your bones with that metal fist if you keep…well, doing what you’re doing.

And if this were two years ago, maybe they’d be right. If this were weeks after his deprogramming, back when he couldn’t even look into a mirror without disassociating, Bucky might’ve pushed you across the room with lethal force. Or at the very least, wrenched free of your hold, stiff and wary. But they don’t see the subtle signs that you do: the tension in Bucky’s shoulders is not the tension of danger, but of mild embarrassment. He looks shy, maybe even flustered. He’s definitely not displeased. And if anything, you know he’s grateful you treat him like a normal person, not a ticking time bomb with horrifying memories.

He shrugs off Steve’s concern with a tight-lipped smirk. “I’m fine,” he says. “I’m not made of glass.”

Or vibranium, you add silently with another playful grin. You resist the urge to poke at his arm, but your fingers twitch at the thought. Next time, you promise yourself.

Tony slides a diagnostic tablet across the table as if presenting evidence. “Look, I’m all for affection, but maybe, for the sake of our dear ex-Hydra assassin’s comfort, we keep it PG-13 in the debrief?” He’s half-joking, half-serious, eyebrows shooting up when you lean closer to Bucky again.

You tilt your head at Tony. “I’m not exactly straddling him on the table, Tony. Chill.”

“Just you watch,” Sam mutters under his breath, arms folded across his chest, likely recalling a previous incident in which your casual affection got a bit…handsy. Hey, you can’t help it, Bucky’s arms are a national treasure.

From beside you, Bucky sighs. “Seriously, guys, it’s okay. This—” he flicks his eyes at the point where your forearm slides across his back “—it’s nice.” He lowers his gaze, almost bashful, but admits quietly, “Makes me feel like…y’know. Like I’m—”

“A normal dude, living a normal life,” you finish for him, your voice softer. It’s what both of you want, though neither of you outright says so in crowded company.

“Alright,” Tony relents with a theatrical sigh. “I mean, if Barnes is okay with it, I guess we can let it go.”

“Seriously, Tony,” you huff, “I’m not some savage about to devour the man.”

Bucky sends you a cheeky side glance. “Could’ve fooled me,” he grumbles, but his lips twist into an amused smirk.

“Watch it, metal dumpling,” you shoot back fondly, the new (and very ridiculous) nickname making Tony gag in mock horror.

There’s a collective groan and roll of eyes from the team, but underneath that, there’s this subtle wave of contentment. You can feel it in the air—everyone’s settling into this new normal. Sure, Bucky carries a lot of ghosts and trauma, but right now, with your arm around him, he just feels alive. Connected. Like the piece of him that’s still James Barnes is being coaxed to the surface.

And you? Well, you’re just happy to be the one to coax it out of him. Bucky might be Hydra’s ex-assassin, but you can’t help it—he’s also hot as hell, and you’re pretty sure your vision works just fine, thank you very much.

“Alright,” Steve says, clearing his throat again, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks from secondhand embarrassment. “So…mission debrief?”

“Mission debrief,” you echo. Without missing a beat, you re-sling your arm across Bucky’s shoulders, ignoring the universal eye-roll from the rest of the team. Bucky doesn’t shove you away. He doesn’t tense. He just gives your knee a quick pat under the table, and for a single, quiet second in that big conference room, you can swear you feel a little more at home.

And yeah—maybe you’ll have to tone it down for the sake of collective sanity. But then again, the look in Bucky’s eyes says he needs this just as much as you do.

So if anyone’s got a problem with it, well…they can take it up with the ex-Winter Soldier himself—and hope they can handle the glare he’ll give them for standing in the way of his self-proclaimed “annoying but sweet” Avenger.

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Kate: What did you get Yelena for her birthday?

Y/N: I got her a dog.

Kate: Really? Me too!

Sam: I also got her a dog!

Bucky: Looks like we had the same idea.

Y/N: Scott, please tell me you didn’t get Yelena a dog as well.

Scott: I got her a dog!

[cuts to Yelena surrounded by dogs]

Yelena: THIS IS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!

[thenatashamaximoff]

Something Wicked

Summary: After the dark entity known as the Scarlet Witch takes control of Wanda Maximoff, she unexpectedly breaks up with you as a twisted reward for saving her. The pain of the breakup lingers for six long months as you try to cope and move on, finding solace in your own pursuits. However, just as you begin to find your footing again, you are revisited by old friends as they request your aid when the Scarlet Witch resurfaces.

✎

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 3459

Heavy rain pummeled against the roof above you, but your attention was elsewhere. You marveled at the captivating beauty of your own veins, their emerald hue ensnaring your attention once more. The delicate skin on your forearm barely concealed the intricate network of verdant pathways pulsating just beneath the surface. It was a mesmerizing sight, an otherworldly shade of green that seemed to radiate with vitality. It was as if nature itself coursed through your very being, and you couldn’t help but be awestruck by the phenomenon as if you were seeing it for the first time again.

Your fingers wove through the thick fur of the small dog lying before you, a patient in need. Its shallow breaths and pained whimpers tugged at your heartstrings, yet the pain the animal was feeling caused a tightness to grip your muscles. As you touched the creature, you could feel its distress, intimately aware of every ounce of suffering it endured.

Drawing upon the energy within you, you channeled it toward the dog, willing healing and comfort to permeate its being. Gradually, its breathing steadied, the whimpers fading into silence. A surge of relief washed over you as the dog let out a joyous bark, springing to its feet on the metal examination table. A smile stretched across your features, mirroring the elation in the owner’s eyes as he stepped forward.

“Thank you,” he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and awe. His laughter mingled with relief, and he extended his hand for his furry companion to shower with affectionate licks. “That was incredible.” You drew in a low, shuddering breath, your arms trembling as you attempted to shake off the residual pain you had absorbed from the dog. As he embraced his pet, his fingers finding solace behind its ear, his gaze locked with yours, brimming with wonder. “I must admit, I was skeptical at first, thinking it was just another one of those scams. But witnessing your work… I’m glad I went with my gut.” He pressed his lips tenderly against the top of the dog’s head, a thin layer of tears glistening in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. With a determined nod, he raised his chin, composing himself. “I’ll see you around, doc.”

You chuckled softly, the sound laced with warmth and camaraderie. “Hopefully not too soon,” you replied, a gentle jest dancing in your words. A soft smile adorned your face as the owner departed, the room enveloped in a sense of profound gratitude and hope.

You lingered in the lobby, your gaze fixed on him as he hastily pushed open the glass door and scurried towards his car, seeking shelter from the relentless downpour. The heavy droplets cascaded from the sky, each one threatening to soak him to the bone. The urgency in his movements was palpable, his determination to avoid the drenching rain evident in every hurried step.

A jolt of thunder rattled the building, forcing you out of your stupor. You exhaled heavily as you approached the door. Through the rain-streaked surface, you peered out into the desolate parking lot as your last patient drove off into the night, your lips pressing together in a tight line. With a firm grip, you clasped the bottom of the OPEN sign, flipping it to CLOSE, while your other hand swiftly secured the deadbolt.

Standing there for a moment longer, you observed the heavy raindrops pummeling the pavement under the dim glow of the streetlights. A sense of foreboding weighed upon your shoulders, causing your gut to knot with unease. Determined to shake off the disquiet, you turned on your heels, ready to retreat back into the safety of your establishment.

But as you spun around, your heart leaped into your throat, freezing you in your tracks. A figure materialized in the doorway to your only examination room, shrouded in darkness. Steadying your voice, though your heart hammered against your ribs, you spoke with a measured tone, “Sorry, but we’re closed.” You moved to the side, taking refuge near the desk on your left. Your hand traced the inside of the counter, inching closer to what it sought. “You’re welcome to return tomorrow to make an appointment.”

A soft voice, laced with intrigue, cut through the tense air. “Or we can do it now.” The figure moved forward, stepping into the light, and relief washed over you as you met the familiar, piercing gaze of Natasha Romanoff. Releasing the handle of the concealed gun beneath your desk, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Nine months.” You shrugged nonchalantly, nodding subtly as you added, “Approaching ten soon.”

A faint smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she gracefully approached, taking in the surroundings of your humble business. Her eyes wandered, absorbing every detail, as if memorizing the essence of your new life. “I imagined you doing a lot of things when you left,” she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of astonishment. “Being a vet wasn’t one I anticipated.” Her gaze flickered back to you, her eyes meeting yours as you leaned against the desk. “Do you even have your license?” She arched an eyebrow teasingly, evoking a huff from you.

“What do you want, Natasha?”

Her lips curved into a more prominent yet gentle smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. “What makes you think I want something?” she returned, feigning a wounded expression.

A trace of annoyance flickered across your face as you cleared your throat, not easily swayed by her act. “I haven’t heard from anybody on the team since I left,” you stated.

Natasha’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more earnest expression. “I know,” she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of remorse. “We’ve all been… busy. But that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”

A pang of vulnerability resonated within you, a mixture of yearning and the lingering sense of abandonment. You had made the difficult choice to walk away from the team, to forge a different path for yourself. Yet, a part of you had always hoped for a connection, a reassurance that your absence hadn’t rendered you completely forgotten.

“So why now?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of uncertainty. “Why reach out after all this time?”

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering and earnest. As she poised herself to respond, a voice interjected before she could utter a word. “Because we need you, Y/N.” Startled, your eyes darted towards the source of the second voice, your attention suddenly drawn to another figure standing at the entrance of your examination room. Lost in the sight of Natasha, you had failed to notice the presence of a companion.

Your curiosity piqued, you shifted your focus towards the newly arrived figure, taking in their appearance and attempting to piece together the puzzle before you. Who was this unexpected partner accompanying Natasha, and what role did they play in this unfolding situation?

A scoff caught in your throat as Vision stepped into the room, his presence commanding and analytical. His unwavering gaze remained fixed upon you, intensifying the unease that simmered within. Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but release your disbelief. “You couldn’t have waited a few more seconds?” Natasha’s low question resonated in the room, its undercurrents of exasperation and frustration unmistakable.

“You were drawing it out,” Vision claimed, his tone devoid of emotion. “Time is of the essence, and we have little to spare.”

Your attention shifted, focusing your gaze squarely on Vision, a flicker of resentment igniting in your eyes. Your question, however, was directed towards Natasha, a mixture of confusion and disdain permeating your words. “Why is he here?”

The Russian’s response was steady, her voice tinged with a sense of understanding. “He insisted on coming,” she explained. “She’s back, Y/N.” It took a moment for the weight of her words to sink in, for the significance of their presence to fully register. Your gaze reluctantly shifted from Vision to meet hers, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach as the realization dawned upon you. “The Scarlet Witch has returned.”

A surge of sensations swirled within you, a maelstrom of recollections, regrets, and feelings. The return of the enigmatic and powerful being known as the Scarlet Witch held implications that stretched far beyond your current circumstances. It signified the revival of a chapter you had hoped to leave behind, a chapter that had left its mark upon your very soul.

As the gravity of the situation settled, a wave of emotions crashed over you, leaving you gasping for air. The resurgence of the past had brought forth a flood of unwelcomed memories and unresolved pain, and the mere thought of confronting it once again threatened to suffocate you. In that moment, you knew you couldn’t face it head-on with the Avengers.

You pushed past them, making your way to the hidden staircase around the corner. Their footsteps echoed behind you, their presence a constant reminder of the choices that lay before you. You remained silent, determined to retreat to the solace of your apartment, to gather your thoughts and find a momentary respite from the chaos unfolding.

Entering your kitchen, you could feel them looming behind you. Natasha’s voice cut through the air, her concern discernible. “Y/N, did you hear me?” Her gaze fixated on you as you retrieved a box from the freezer, allowing the door to swing shut. Her brows furrowed in confusion, Vision standing by her side. “Y/N-”

“I heard you,” you asserted, avoiding direct eye contact as your focus shifted to a frozen meal, the instructions becoming a temporary refuge. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Vision, his voice filled with urgency, interjected, “Wanda is in danger. How can you let her suffer-”

You cut him off, your gaze finally meeting his. Anger burned in your eyes, a testament to the pain that still lingered within. “The same way she let me suffer,” you declared, your voice laced with bitterness. The words hung heavily in the air, a raw truth that underlined the depth of your hurt. “You two wasted your precious time coming here. I’m not going back.”

A tense silence settled in the room, the weight of your decision palpable. The Avengers, once your allies, now stood before you, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and disappointment. The path ahead seemed uncertain, and while part of you longed to join them, to embrace the cause once more, the scars of the past held you back.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha’s gaze softened, her words carrying a weight of understanding. “I know what she did to you. I know the pain she caused, but you also know how dire the situation can become. It’s going to escalate, and without your help, more lives will be at risk. More lives will be lost.” Your eyes locked onto hers, imploring you to remember the purpose that once drove you. “You were an Avenger, Y/N, because you believed in putting an end to that agony.”

Her words reverberated in the air, stirring a mix of emotions within you. Memories of your past life as an Avenger, the camaraderie, the shared purpose, surged to the surface. The weight of responsibility and the desire to protect innocents clashed with the scars of your own personal pain.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to shield yourself from further harm and the realization that your abilities could make a difference in preventing a greater catastrophe. The echoes of Natasha’s plea resonated in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze once more. “You don’t know anything,” you expressed flatly. “I hope you can find a way to save her without me.” With those words hanging in the air, you turned away from them, putting your focus back on the frozen meal in your hands as you stepped over to the microwave.

“She still loves you.” You felt yourself freeze at the android’s voice, your grip tightening and ultimately crumpling the box. Natasha’s voice was low when she attempted to stop him, but he continued with no regard for her. “She never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that,” you claimed, your voice barely above a whisper, yet you knew he heard you. You dropped the meal onto the counter with a loud thunk as you leaned against it, bracing yourself. “Don’t manipulate my emotions so you can have your happy ending.”

The memory you had fought so hard against managed to trickle in through the cracks Vision’s words caused, and tears pricked the backs of your eyes as you looked at Wanda in your mind. Her soft features, usually filled with warmth and love, were now only filled with sorrow and agony. The pain of the past surged through your veins, threatening to consume you once again. You closed your eyes, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, yet it only gave you a clearer view of what had happened.

“You’re wrong,” you sneered, pivoting to face the pair. “Wanda never had any true affection for me, and the Witch only aimed to exploit my vulnerability.” With your arms tightly folded across your chest, you leaned against the countertop behind you and subtly shook your head. “Picture this, Vision: rescuing the person you cherish from a… an ominous force, only to have her confess that she’s never reciprocated your love.”

The weight of those words hung heavy in the air as you paused, your gaze fixed on a distant point. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your lips, and a mixture of hurt and anger etched itself on your face. The truth had been unveiled, revealing a painful reality that shattered the illusion of love and trust you had held onto.

The memories flooded your mind, each one a piece of the puzzle that now formed a clear image. You recalled the moments of tenderness, the stolen glances, and the whispered promises of forever. But now they seemed like mere illusions, a cruel facade that masked the true intentions of the Scarlet Witch.

A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, there was a sense of disbelief, a desperate desire to deny the harsh reality that had been thrust upon you. On the other hand, a wave of seething anger swelled within, fueled by the profound sense of betrayal. How could someone you loved so profoundly deceive you in such a way?

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you continued to steady yourself against the counter. The pain in your voice was undeniable. “The two of you can relax here for the night and wait out the storm, but I expect you to be gone in the morning.” Leaving your untouched dinner behind, you moved past Natasha and Vision, disappearing into the recesses of your apartment. The heavy thud of the closing bedroom door echoed, and a deep exhale escaped your lips as your back pressed against it.

In the quiet solitude, a whispered “I’m sorry” lingered in the air. The memory of her apology played like a haunting film on the back of your eyelids. You recalled the way she looked at you, a mix of remorse and helplessness, and your naive laughter that had once dismissed her regrets. At the time, you hadn’t fully grasped what she was apologizing for… until she mustered up the confidence to continue.

Shaking your head, you pried yourself away from the door, crossing the room to the edge of the bed. As you began to untie your shoes, you grappled with memories that threatened to overwhelm you. You tried to push them back into the vault you had constructed, sealing it shut to prevent the flood of emotions. Yet, despite your efforts, the vault had opened, and you allowed yourself to remember - her smile, the depth of her eyes, the infectious laughter that once filled the room.

A vice tightened around your heart as you recalled the tender moments, like the gentle sweep of her hand through your hair, a simple touch that held profound meaning. The recollection of nights entwined together, limbs and blankets creating a comforting chaos, brought both warmth and pain.

The struggle to forget was real, but the past insisted on resurfacing. With each memory, the walls you had built threatened to crumble, exposing vulnerabilities you had meticulously hidden. 

The soft knock barely registered in your mind, lost beneath the weight of your thoughts. It wasn’t until a voice - steady, familiar - cut through the haze that you blinked back into the present. Your gaze lifted, sluggish and unfocused, until it landed on Natasha standing in front of you.

Your eyes flickered, landing on the frozen meal - now fully cooked - resting in her hands. The same one you’d abandoned in the kitchen. The same one you had no energy to make for yourself.

You hesitated. Accepting it meant letting her stay, meant listening to whatever argument she’d prepared to drag you back into the fight. But when your stomach let out a low, insistent growl, the choice was made for you.

Wordlessly, you took the meal.

She sat beside you without invitation.

“You’re right,” she murmured as you shoveled a forkful of food into your mouth. “I don’t know anything.”

You chewed slowly, your eyes fixed on the meal rather than the woman beside you. But she wasn’t finished.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Wanda after everything,” she continued. “I just know that whatever it was, it was bad enough to make you leave. To move across the country. To try to disappear.”

You swallowed, the food suddenly feeling heavy in your throat. “How’d you even find me?”

A low chuckle slipped from her lips, quiet and knowing. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you lifted another bite to your mouth. “Too busy to stop by, but not too busy to spy.”

She exhaled through her nose, but there was no denial. Only quiet acknowledgment.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she said, her voice steady, unwavering.

And the worst part?

You knew she was right.

You let Natasha’s words settle in the space between you - heavy, unshakable. She never wasted time on trivial things. If she was here, it meant things were worse than she was letting on.

Your grip tightened around the fork as you forced another bite past the growing lump in your throat. “I already told you - I’m not going back,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.

Natasha didn’t argue. She didn’t scoff or roll her eyes. She just sat there, hands resting on her thighs, watching you with that quiet patience you hated. She knew you too well. Knew you’d be the first to break…

And you did.

“Is she really that far gone?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, quieter this time.

She inhaled, slow and measured. “She’s unraveling.”

A shiver crawled down your spine.

You remembered it too clearly - the way Wanda’s power frayed at the edges when the Witch began to take control, the way she trembled beneath its weight, fighting a battle no one else could see. You had been there, helpless as the Scarlet Witch whispered promises and lies in equal measure, clawing her way to the surface mercilessly.

And you remembered the way Wanda looked at you before she lost the fight - eyes wild with desperation, fingers twitching as if reaching for something… for you…

And then—

She let go.

But you held on.

The memory burned through you, a sharp ache settling deep in your chest. You swallowed hard, blinking against the image, forcing yourself back to the present.

“She’s looking for something,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now, almost secretive. “Or someone.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “And let me guess - you think it’s me.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze, steady and unflinching.

You scoffed, setting your meal aside. “I left for a reason.”

“I know.”

“She made her choice.”

“I know.”

Jaw clenched, you exhaled sharply through your nose and pushed off the bed. Sitting felt suffocating. Pacing was better—movement was better than feeling.

Natasha stayed silent, watching as you wore a path into the floor. Then, finally, she spoke, “She’s not just looking for you, Y/N.” A pause, weighted and deliberate. “She’s calling for you.”

Your stomach twisted. Whether you wanted to believe it or not, she was right. And you both knew it.

“You might be the only one who can reach her before it’s too late.”

[auroraromaximoff]

Wanda: Hey, has anyone seen my top?

Clint: Nat’s in the kitchen

Wanda: *blushing* No! My black top, with the frilly sleeves!

Sam: oh, Y/n is in her garden.

Wanda: Never mind! Just forget it! *storms off*

Y/n: *walks in wearing Wanda’s shirt* What happened?

[galatially]

❝𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐈𝐈𝐈: feelings

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 x 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — and if i could say anything, i would say that it will always be you; you hadn't expected to have to ask for help, but when you do, it's from the one person you wished it wasn't

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 2.3K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, pining, general fluff

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — gasp! she updated!

It’s said that things come in threes. 

Your shoelace coming apart this morning should’ve been the first sign. The second sign would’ve been when you dropped your coffee in the parking lot on the way into the office. Standing in front of your landlord as he told you that your apartment was water damaged finished the trio. 

“I’ve called the tenants upstairs but they’re on vacation.”

“Why would they leave the patio door open when they weren’t going to be home? The rain’s been horrible this week.” Your eyes scanned all of your damaged furniture and appliances; there goes your vacation fund. 

“They’re kids, Y/N, you know how that goes,” your landlord says, waving his hand. 

“No, I don’t. I’m not made of money and I don’t leave kids in charge of an entire apartment.” You let out a hard sigh as you looked at the gaping hole in your ceiling. “How long until everything’s fixed?”

He lifted a shoulder. “A week, maybe two. Depends on what the contractors say.”

Great. Just fucking great. 

If you were being honest, you should’ve moved out years ago. Sure, the rent compared to the nicer buildings in Brooklyn was fairly decent but the things that you had to put up with for the sake of said rent in a shitty studio apartment was bullshit. You ran a hand down your face and told your landlord to keep you posted as you dialed Serena’s number.

“Hey, girl!”

“Nat’s not there, is she?”

“Uh…” You heard shuffling and the closing of a door. “What’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe it.” You let out a shaky chuckle, your free hand on your forehead. “My apartment’s flooded. All of that shitty furniture that I’ve been meaning to replace, the new bed frame that I just got. All gone.” You put a hand to your forehead, your eyes and nose starting to burn from the tears threatening to spill. “Can I come over? The more I keep looking at everything, I’m going to have a mental break.” 

“Of course! Let me get my keys and I’ll be over, okay?”

“So, don’t freak out, but Nat and I have company over.”

You and Serena had just pulled into her parking space when the air suddenly thickened. She’d turned the ignition off and turned to face you, her features twisted with worry.

“Okay…?”

“Steve’s in there.”

Had you been a teenager again, you’d have found a way to make your damaged apartment livable. What’s a water damaged loveseat when the man that you’ve fantasized about is less than twenty feet away? But you were fucking exhausted and the last thing you cared about was Steven Grant Rogers seeing you in your grubby scrubs and your braids slipping from the bun you’d put them in this morning. 

“I’ll be fine, Rena. I just want to take a shower and sleep.”

Serena nodded and walked towards the house, leaving you to follow after her in silence. She left the door behind her like she had been since you were in high school and you heard the prevalent voices of some of the Avengers carrying towards you.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming!”

Natasha stood up and pulled you into your arms. You and the redhead became fast friends from the moment you’d set foot into Avengers Tower. You both had the same wry sense of humor and often found yourselves at the same bar on Eighty-Sixth street. She was one of the best partners Serena ever had and, while she teased you about it often, she was supportive when you let slip your crush on Steve. 

“Hey, Nat.” 

She pulled back, her brows furrowed. “What happened?”

As you opened your mouth, you saw a familiar pair of blue eyes on you. He moved to his knees and your eyes went back to Natasha’s. “Is it okay if I tell you later? I’m really tired.” 

She nodded and you walked back towards their guest room, still feeling Steve’s eyes on you.

You awoke to the smell of fresh coffee.

When you reached out for your phone on the end table, you remembered that you weren’t in your apartment and that you left your phone in your pants pocket on the floor. You turned your gaze towards the ceiling and let out a long sigh. 

“Y/N?” Natasha spoke from behind the closed door. “How you feeling?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, a half smile drawing in the corner of your mouth. “Could be better. But what’s new?”

She opened the door further and walked into the room, sliding into bed beside you. She took hold of your hand and rested her head on your shoulder. At first, you were confused. Not with the sudden affection or her closeness, but with how she knew that’s what you needed in this moment. 

“You want me to deal with those kids upstairs? I’ll make sure they pay you back in spades.”

You laughed. “Nah. Maybe I can finally make myself look for a new place.” You rested your head against hers. “I’m trying to think about it positively so that I don’t burn the whole complex down.”

“Say the word and Buck and I’ll start gathering supplies.”

“Don’t give him another reason to be a menace,” you said, snorting. “The amount of tending to he needs on a biweekly basis is insane.”

“Steve’s not far behind him.” You heard the lilt in her words. “He was asking about you after you went to bed last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t play coy,” Nat deadpanned, “We all know that you like him.”

“It’s fucking annoying! I’m twenty-nine years old and I can barely look the man in the eyes!”

“I think it’s cute.”

You bumped your shoulder with hers. “I’m being serious, Nat! It’s embarrassing!”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t think so.”

You waved off her words. “Anyway, I’ll try to find a hotel or something later on today.”

The redhead’s brows furrowed. “For what?” 

“I’m not about to take up space from you guys if I don’t have to.”

She scoffed. “You wouldn’t be taking up space, Y/N, Jesus. We have a spare room for a reason.”

“And one bathroom,” you deadpanned. “I don’t know about you, but Serena needs at least seventy-five percent of the bathroom to herself.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Nat chuckled. “Do you know anyone that has an extra room or a couch to crash on?”

You shrugged. “Most of my friends from medical school are either married, in a relationship, or halfway across the country. My mom lives in Georgia. Both of my sisters are in Jersey.”

“You could ask Tony if he’s willing to let you stay in one of his many unused properties in Brooklyn.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s crossing a line regardless of how close Tony and I are.”

“Bucky?”

“He just got his new place, right? I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You both looked at each other, the question lingering heavy. You knew that he’d let you, it’s just his nature. Always looking out for people in need. 

But living together, even if for a little while, would muddy things up for you. It was easy to hide your feelings when you could escape to your own place and let them pool at your feet. But to live with him? Even if was temporary, your stomach twisted with worry. You could live in your happy denial and be was none the wiser for it. 

But being temporarily displaced would eventually affect your work. You loved working at Avengers Tower. It was luck that even got you the position and you were damn good at it. 

You let out a long sigh. “Can you hand me my phone?” 

Nat’s lips drew up as she leaned over the side of the bed. “Are you going to call him?”

You gave her your a flat look. “Please, don’t. You can joke all you want because Steve’s practically a sibling to you. I, on the other hand, have to keep from speaking Simlish whenever he so much as looks at me.”

She snickered, handing you your phone. “You’ve clearly never seen him choke on his own tongue whenever you’re in the room.”

Your eyes looked towards the door. “Do you mind? In case he tells me no and I have to die of embarrassment.” Nat started making kissing noises and poking at the side of your face. “If I didn’t know that you’d put me in a hospital, I’d bite your finger off.”

“If I didn’t see you as a sister, I’d let you, free of charge,” she retorted, rising from the bed. You wrinkled your nose when she said your name. “Even if he says no, which he won’t, Rena and I will make room for you.” She held up her hand, a bemused smirk on her lips. “Before you even say it, it’s not a problem or a burden. You’re family. Deal with it.”

You pursed your lips for a few moments before you spoke, your voice small. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to doing anything for me just because you’re dating my best friend.”

“And I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you just as much as she does,” Nat replied. “We’re friends of our own accord and if I want to help you, let me.” You opened your mouth but she stopped you with a raise of her brow. “Are you about to say that we’re not friends?”

“Of course not!”

“Okay, then.” She nodded towards your phone. “Call Steve and then come eat breakfast.” She closed the door behind her and you were left with the crushing realization of your circumstances. 

You took a deep breath and pressed the call button underneath Steve’s contact photo. 

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you hated it. Even hearing his voice over the phone sent your hormones into overdrive. 

“Hey — er, good morning, Captain,” you cleared your throat, “how are you?”

Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. 

“I’m fine. Is everything okay?”

You gulped. “This is kind of embarrassing but I have a favor to ask.”

He answered so quickly you thought you misheard him. “Anything.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “I haven’t even asked the favor.”

“Whatever you need from me is yours.”

A warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach and bloomed throughout your body. His voice was low and husky, finality dripping from the words. 

“I’m not sure you’ll think the same once you hear the favor, Captain.”

He chuckled. “Steve, sweetheart. Outside of the tower, I’m Steve.” You stuttered out an affirmative. “Now, what’s the favor?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “My apartment is flooded and I was wondering if you had any spare room? It’s completely fine if you don’t, I just — ”

“Do you need to grab anything from your apartment? I don’t have much in the way of toiletries but I do have some spare clothes for you to change into, if you need.”

He said yes. 

He actually said yes?

“I — ”

“How do you feel about motorcycles?”

A light chuckle tumbled from your lips. “I haven’t ridden on one since high school but I’m flexible.”

“Great.” You heard faint shuffling and the jingling of keys. “You’re at Nat and Serena’s, right? I need to run out and get some things but I’ll swing by and pick you up after, okay?”

You were floored. You’d expected a bit of groveling on your end and the polite decline that would’ve put you back at square one. 

“I can’t even begin to thank you, C — Steve. Truly.”

His voice softened. “I meant what I said; anything you need from me is yours.” 

Fuck.

“In any case,” you cleared your throat, “you’re doing me a huge favor and I owe you one.” You looked at the digital clock on the nightstand; half past eight. “So, I should be ready by ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Thank you again.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. It’s my pleasure,” he said. “I’ll see you at ten.”

“See you.” The call disconnected and climbed out of the bed, mechanically making your way towards the kitchen. 

“What’s up?” Nat asked, her brow raised. “What’d he say?”

“He’s coming to get me at ten.” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. 

Serena set a mug of coffee down in front of you, concern bowing her brows. “Is that a good thing?” 

“I’m…still processing that part.” 

“Uh-uh,” Nat turned your chair towards her, forcing your eyes to meet, “Don’t start overthinking this, Y/N Y/L/N. He’s not doing this just to be polite and he’s damn sure not doing it to make himself look better. He genuinely likes you.”

“Let’s say that I believe you, okay? What does he like about me? We don’t talk outside of work, we barely talk at work. Once we’re in the same space, we have to get to know each other. Every quirk, every flaw. If he gets to see the person that I am outside of the office and doesn’t like what he sees, what do I do with that?”

Nat frowned some. “You’re putting him on a pedestal he doesn’t deserve, Y/N. He’s who he is by circumstance, not by design. And as far as him not liking you for who you are, he’d be fucking lucky to even get so much as a glance from you.”

“And if he so much as says anything about your cute little snores, I’ll kick his ass all up and down the Brooklyn Bridge,” Serena warned.

You smiled. 

“The point is,” Nat continued, “neither one of you know each other and, while this is a bit unorthodox, you could fix that. If by the end of the week you don’t want to stay there, just call us and we’ll figure something out.” She raised a hand, stopping your next words. “Again, if you say another word about how you’re a burden to your friends, I’m going to hang you off the side of the Empire State building.”

The corners of your mouth lifted as you took another sip of your coffee. “Love you, too, Nat.”

She smiled warmly. “Hurry up and eat before Cap gets here.”

By nine forty-five, you were showered, moisturized, and out of your day old scrubs waiting in the living room with Serena and Natasha watching a movie. 

“Why do you like this movie, Y/N? It’s so ridiculous!”

Your mouth gaped at your best friend. “Um, excuse you! This is one of the best rom-coms ever! What’s more romantic than a marketing executive falling in love with a chef through the power of food and magic?”

“She can’t cook!” Nat argued.

“That’s where the magic crab comes in!”

A knock on the door made you pause, your pulse kicking up. 

“Come in!” Serena called out. 

The door opened, Steve’s eyes lighting up when he sees you. “Hey.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Hey.”

“What the fuck, Cap, you’re just going to ignore me in my own house?” Natasha stood up from the couch and moved to pull the Avenger into a hug. “I thought you were coming at ten?”

“I got done with my errands earlier than I expected and was in the neighborhood.” He pulled back and shot a smile to Serena. “Mornin’, Rena.”

“Morning, Stevie.”

His blue eyes found yours again. “You ready?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. Serena pulled you into a hug. 

“Thanks for letting me stay, Rena.”

“Of course! You’re my person, the Maxine to my Khadijah.” She pulled back, a smile in her face. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

“I love you, too, bitch.”

“All right, lovebirds, I want a hug, too,” Nat teased, playfully pushing her girlfriend away to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “Take care of yourself and don’t be afraid to call us if you need anything at all.”

“I will. I’ll see you at work.”

“God, I hope not,” she joked. 

You rolled your eyes and turned to Steve. “Lead the way.” 

You both walked onto the porch and as you were making your way to his bike, he stopped you with his hand. You turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“I just — I’m glad you called.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you picked up. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He nodded towards his bike. “You used to ride?”

“I had a few partners that did in high school and college.” You smirked, walking down the porch steps. “I was going to get my license after I graduated but my residency kind of took over.”

“Would you still want to?”

You shrugged. “Maybe one day when I have time.”

Steve hummed to himself before asking, “Did we have to stop by your apartment to grab anything?”

“Yeah,” your shoulders sagged, “hopefully I have something salvageable. Most of my money’s about to go into finding a new place and replacing all of my furniture —”

“Hey, hey.” He took hold of your hands. “If you don’t have anything, we can go somewhere and get you new things.”

You frowned. “I’m already putting you out, Steve.”

“No one’s putting anyone out. You’re my friend and I’m helping you out.”

Friend. 

Of course he only saw you as a friend. 

You carefully slipped your hands from his and gave him a small smile. “If you say so, Cap.” You turned on your heel and went to straddle the back end of his back. When you looked up at him, he seemed confused. “What?”

“I —” He shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.” 

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — not gon' even hold y'all, i'm fucking edging myself at this point and i don't like it lol

but these next two chapters? some of my greatest fluff i've ever fluffed

[ramp-it-up]

Mood

Summary: You and Steve were “special” friends. Until something that happens on one of your training missions puts Steve into a mood.

Word count: 2.7K

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of hurt, ambush, implied assualt. Angsty, moody Steve, Steve with the urge to kill for you, possessive Steve, Steve pining for reader, idiots in love, Dom Steve, fuck buddies to relationship, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, dirty talk, edging (but not quite), begging, body worship, nipple play, raw p in v, female receiving oral, emotional sex.

A/N: This can be seen as adjacent to the fic Call Me Captain When I..., but can be read as a stand alone. I was in a mood when I wrote it, so here we are.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

NOTICE: I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

After you checked yourself out of the hospital against doctor’s orders, Steve Rogers steamed as he waited for you to get out of the shower. He wanted to be in there with you, but decided to give you some space, and give him some time to cool down.

The fact that you were standing at the visitor’s entrance, in your hospital gown and combat boots as he drove up to sit with you, was the latest thing to get him riled up.

When he saw you, he parked in the fire lane and got out of his car, hands on his hips as he questioned you.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

He eyed the bandage on your forehead and the one on your cheek, fingers trembling as he brushed his thumb over your bruised face.

The rage had not subsided for him over the past three days. 

Even after he and Sam beat the medivac to the scene and transported you to the best ER in the area.

Even after he was assured that you were ok by the doctors at the hospital. 

Even after you protested that he was overreacting when he set up a security detail at your door headed by Sam. 

Even after he’d found who did this to you and… well, seeing you bruised countenance again reignited his emotions.

He wondered how you got around Sam who was posted up. But then, your cunning and skill was a big part of how he felt about you. So was your kindness, intelligence, and beauty.

But you didn’t know exactly how Steve felt about you. And perhaps he didn’t either. Until you were ambushed on a routine training mission with your troops.

You lifted your chin and squared your shoulders as Steve shook his head. 

“I’m fine, Captain. I want to go home. I’ve been in the hospital for four days. And on the training mission for 10 days before that. I was due to be discharged in the morning anyway.”

You looked up at Steve. He couldn’t resist those eyes.

“I want to rot on my couch, sleep in my own bed.”

Steve grunted his assent, although the thin line of his lips indicated his displeasure with you.

“How’s your head feel?”

You met his eyes and focused, if only to prove how healthy you were.

“I’m fine, Steve. I just want to go home.”

Steve stared at you, wanting to just take you into his arms, but not doing it. Then, he stared around the parking lot, scanning the perimeter for anyone watching.

“Get in.”

He moved next to you and picked up the plastic bag that had your belongings in it, and put his hand on your back to guide you toward the sportscar.

“But my ride...”

Steve looked down at you as his jaw clenched, the blue fire in his eyes threatening to burn you.

“Get in before I take you over to that bench and spank the hell out of you, Lieutenant.”

You swallowed a gasp and grew warm at the threat.

“Yes Sir.”

You climbed into the passenger seat and sat back as Steve buckled you in, then waved at Sam, who’d come running out of the hospital just as Steve drove away.

You were along for the ride of this mood of your superior, friend, and fuck buddy Captain America, Steve Rogers.

—-

You stood before Steve, wrapped up in your soft, fluffy white robe that he had put into the dryer to warm up and left on the hook on the door of the shower. It was such a sweet gesture that contrasted his cold, harsh demeanor on the way to your place.

You felt as if you were about to be punished, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. And just a little bit spooked. But that last part was lessened, because Steve was with you here in your quarters. You looked at him, wanting to ask him to stay, but you didn’t.

Steve stalked toward you, and you noticed that he was barefoot, which seemed to indicate that he wasn’t going anywhere soon. You smiled as you dragged your weary eyes up to his face. You decided to go for it.

“Are you staying?”

Steve grunted at you again.

“Just try and get me to leave you alone.”

His deep bass rumbled through you, and you whimpered, despite the fact that he wasn’t even touching you. Something seemed off as he moved toward you, pulling you closer by the tie on your robe.

“I’ve been riding on the edge of insanity ever since that day.”

Steve’s hand was in your hair, gently massaging the exposed scalp between your braids as his eyes took careful stock of your face.

You were shook.

“I’m okay, Steve.”

“I’ve got to see for myself.”

All he wanted to do was to take inventory of you, his rough fingers moving over every inch of your naked body to make sure that every bit of you was okay. He’d almost lost you and was experiencing an almost feral urge to consume you. You could feel the guilt radiating off him.

“Steve. No one could have known. Shit, I’m head of intelligence and I didn’t know.…”

Steve put his finger to his lips, and then yours. He gently stroked your cheek as he kissed you tenderly, carefully.

“Why do you always taste so good? Like you smell. Like sweet coconut…”

He leaned in to kiss you again, groaning as every gentle stroke of his tongue was met with a bolder one of yours. The passion increased until he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours. You could tell that he was holding back. 

What was wrong with him?

“I know that no one could have known that the mission was a trap. But I feel like I should have.”

His hands moved from your neck, to your torso, down your belly, to the juncture of your thighs. He was sitting on your bed as you stood before him, warmed by the shower, but goosebumps raised on your flesh and your nipples formed into tight peaks as he examined you.

“I’ve never felt the urge to kill as much as I did when I tracked them down. It only took a day and a half to find them, and then a day and a half to get close enough to… “

Steve stopped short of revealing what happened to the people who hurt you and just looked into your eyes. The fury you saw as he looked up at you was chilling, yet arousing. You wanted to ask what he did to them, but you couldn’t. You just looked at his hands to find evidence that you knew wouldn’t be there because of his super soldier healing.

“Steve?”

He didn’t respond to you, just continued to stare at your most intimate parts.

“Captain-”

He looked up at you then.

“What I said at the hospital earlier. I-I have a serious desire to give you a good and proper spanking for almost losing your life, although it wasn’t your fault.”

You started to laugh, but he was serious. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“I can’t give you up. I can’t.”

You shook your head.

“Steve, I’m fine-”

He pulled you to him by your thighs, his large hands grabbing you, gently but firmly, and bringing your crotch close to his mouth. He looked back up at you.

“I know we’ve never talked about this, but…You are my anchor.”

You ran your hands through his hair as his breath tickled your clit.

“I had the barest control while Sam and I were flying to get you, and only a small bit more when I learned you were okay. And now I have to verify that you are ‘fine,’ as you say. I need to see it with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, taste it ….”

The unspoken part of that statement caused you to shudder as he went back to examining you, His hands moving down your legs, while listening for any sounds of discomfort from you as his skin slid along yours with a gentle but firm pressure, then standing up and depositing you on the bed as he examined you to the soles of your feet.

He placed one of your feet on his pelvis, next to what you’d discovered was his rock hard cock housed in his jeans, and one foot in his hand, beginning to massage it. Steve knew how a sensual foot massage made you wet. He grunted in response to your whimpers, but only turned you over as he examined the back of you.

Steve palmed the globes of your ass and pulled them apart, and you could feel his eyes at the crease of you for a full minute. Then, his palms slid upwards to your spine, smoothing over each vertebrae as he moved up to the back of your neck.

He was on the bed now, between your legs, and pulled your hips up to meet him as he gently circled your neck with his fingers, bringing you up slightly as his other hand rolled and pinched your stiff nipples. 

“How do you feel?”

His gruff whisper, full of need and at the shell of your ear elicited a groan and caused you to roll your hips on his rock-hard erection.

“Steve.. I… Please!”

You incoherently pleaded for more as you moved against the stiff fabric of his jeans, making a mess there. Steve looked down and rolled his eyes, his hand rubbing your ass as his palm itched to smack it.

“Mmmmmm. You have no idea how much I want to give you this cock. But you need rest.”

You reached back and slapped your own ass, pulling on your asscheek to enable him to push deeper between your legs to feel how wet you were.

“We also need to talk…”

Steve shuddered at the sensation of you rutting against him, and with every gasp and moan from you his control was dwindling. 

“I need it Sir. Please, Captain…”

“Fuck. Maybe just one orgasm. Then you can rest.”

You leaned down to give him that arch and he licked his lips. His cock was in full control of him now.

“Best idea ever, Captain.”

His hand moved to your core, and his fingers were instantly soaked with your arousal.

“Jesus. Looks so good.”

Steve’s dick throbbed and he gritted his teeth against the wave of lust, yet he stood up and took off his own clothes. He watched your empty pussy clench around air and he had to taste it. The minute his lips were wrapped around your clit from behind was the moment you started keening for him.

“God, yes….right… fucking…right there!”

Steve carefully inserted a finger into your cunt as he suckled your clit, trying to be gentle. You bit your lip as he pulled off and started to withdraw his finger slowly.

“So soft for me. But so tight.”

He watched your face as he added another digit, causing your eyes to squeeze shut and your mouth to hinge open as you worked your hips on his hand for some relief.

Your eyes popped open and you blinked rapidly, but he didn’t speed up to the insistence of your hips. When he curved his fingers and found that bundle of nerves inside, pressing gently, you broke apart as he stroked over and over again.

 "I–God. I'm going…" 

You bowed your body, and Steve watched in awe while your pussy clamped around his fingers.

“Oh yeah. This was what I needed to see. Give it to me.”

Steve rolled his thumb over your clit to extend your orgasm. You open and completely out of control, with no thought of hurt or danger, was the sight that he loved.

 And he wanted to make you do it again and again.

“Jesus, you are beautiful. I want to...” 

He was fisting his cock and watching your wet, creamy folds as he squeezed your ass for a better view.

“Want more. Please!” 

“Hmmph,” He grunted. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

You leaned over again and presented yourself to him, giving him a view of your fingers working your clit and sliding inside yourself. 

“Fuck me, Captain. Please…”

Steve actually whimpered. His cock was drawn to you magnetically.

“Are you sure…?”

“Need it.” 

Steve cupped your ass harder and guided his cock to your slick, heated cunt and groaned.

“Oh shit. You fucking own me.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, and then you looked over your shoulder, locking onto his gaze. You relaxed, causing Steve to sink deeper inside you. You both hissed and Steve’s eyes closed. 

“I’m never leaving. Could stay inside you forever. Wanna see that beautiful face.”

Steve grabbed your leg and shifted you down and around, maneuvering you onto your back. His eyes raked up and down your form as his hands found your hips and drew you closer to him and his cock deep inside you again. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss as you arched your chest against his. 

You dug your nails into his shoulders, his name a chanted mantra between kisses. With each slide and retreat of his stiff cock in your slick channel, both of your groans got louder. Steve’s gaze occasionally dipped to where you were joined, watching his cock slide in and out of you. You arched your back again, and he dipped his head to draw one of your nipples into his mouth. 

"I. Yes. Harder. Oh God. Oh my God." 

Against your nipple he muttered, "Let me hear you. So good.”

But he didn’t fuck you harder like you asked. Your response was to tug on his hair, and Steve chuckled around the flesh of your breast. 

“I love the sounds you make.”

You moaned loudly, very wet now and very frustrated. The sound of the slick squelching of your act was such sinful music. Steve groaned, his jaw ticked tight from holding back.

“Please!”

But Steve just continued at the same languid pace.

“Later, when you’ve rested, I have plans for these babies,” Steve flattened his tongue and licked around both areolas. 

“Gonna lick, bite, kiss, fuck them. Be rough.”

You shuddered as he leaned up and blew on them, causing your nipples to draw up into hard peaks again and your pussy to shudder around him. Steve leaned up and stared at your breasts as they bounced with each thrust and he shook his head as his pace faltered. You clenched around him again and he spoke, his voice broken.

“I know you’re close. Feel so good around me.”

Steve looked into your eyes as he snapped his hips, and your mouth went wide again as he worked his hand between you and found your sensitive clit. 

Your eyes crossed as your slick walls clamped around his cock and milked him. 

"That's it. Cum for me. I'm so addicted to the sight." 

With three more pumps, Steve was coming apart, his control falling away. Another orgasm rolled through you and you tightened around him once more, causing a groan from Steve as you rode out the wave. 

“Holy fuck.” 

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he continued to thumb your clit. Good Lord, it was impossible to think at all when he did that. You were a whimpering mess as you begged him again.

“Please Captain. Give me your cum, Sir. Cum inside me.”

Steve buried his head in your shoulder as he sped up incrementally, his cursing muffled against your skin. You rolled your hips to meet him, making him groan again. You turned your head to bite, then whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum on your thick cock again. Just fuck me. A little harder. Just three more pumps and I’m there. Pretty please, Sir.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as Steve finally let go and gave you three hard, deep pumps, but as you predicted, he could not stop there.

Steve cursed and fucked you hard, stroking at the devil’s pace for at least a dozen more times, roaring as you stiffened and clamped down on his cock as you came.

“G-g-g-geeez! Fuck!”

Steve was a drooling, practically sobbing mess as the forcefull spray of his cum shot against your cervix, so much so that it leaked out almost immediately. Steve stopped and watched the sight, gasping, mouth open. Then, he looked back up at you.

“Everything about you, about us is so damn perfect. Especially this. We almost lost it. I love you, Libby.”

Your heart surged with emotion, finally understanding what had gotten into him.

“I love you too, Steve.”

You smiled and wiped the tears that were forming at the corner of Steve’s eyes as he softened inside you. 

“Shhhhh. Steve. It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s take this one day at a time. Right now, we both need to sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Steve nodded and sank down into your arms as you held onto your super soldier and rocked both of you to sleep.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog! 😊

[waltermis]

Rumor

Natasha: Moya Lyubov', I heard an interesting rumor today…

Y/N: Only one? I started like twenty.

Tony: I started thirty something...

Scott: Twelve, but they're awesome ones!

*Everybody looking at Sam*

Sam: Oh, I haven't stopped since Ultron...

Y/N: SAM! Ultron was 4 years ago!!!

Sam: Exactly!!

*Somewhere deep inside the compound*

Steve: WHO SAID THAT I WAS A NAZI?!?!

*Natasha looks at everyone*

Y/N: RUN!!!

BONUS:

Clint: *casually sitting in the vents above everyone, knowing full well that he's the one that started the Nazi rumor*

[rxmqnova]

*Avengers meeting*

Tony: Y/N is late again.

Steve: How did this happen? I called her at 8 o'clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Clint: I printed up a fake schedule for her saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Natasha: I set her clock to say PM when it's really AM.

Wanda: Oh boy. We may have overdone it.

*Y/N bursts through the door*

Y/N: WHAT TIME IS IT?

[romanoffshouse]

Steve: Why is Y/N crying on the floor?

Wanda: They're drunk

Steve: And?

Wanda: They saw a picture of Natasha's partner.

Steve: But they're Natasha's partner.

Wanda: Yeah, I know.

[littlemelanintales]

Aftercare

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Soft!Bucky, cock drunk reader, after care, no smut

Your face was still mashed into the mattress beneath you. Ringlets voiding your full vision with the taste of salty sweat creeping past your huffing lips. You felt kisses placed on your hot shoulder blades and the curls being swiped from your face.

Your eyes were unfocused but centered on the lightly breezy curtains,

"Speak for me."

"Mmm." Was all you could let out. Bucky got up from the bed and crossed the hardwood to the adjacent bathroom. You could hear the sink running and the medicine cabinet open then shut again. The loud padding of his weight crossing the floor filled the otherwise virtually silent room.

He squatted to your eye level, bringing the cool towel to gently wipe the night from your brow.

Your breathing relaxed further, drinking in the sparkle in his eyes and the gentleness he has with you.

"There she is he said softly.

"Sit pretty for me, Baby. Can you do that?" You nod and slowly started to sit up and turn yourself over. Small squeaks and groans escaped your lips as the buildup in your triceps tensed up. You leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath. He started to bring the duvet up but you declined,

“ ‘m hot." He smiled, leaning in and placing a kiss to your forehead. Bucky grabbed the 2 Tylenol and glass of water from the night stand. He lifted the cup to your lips and placed his cold, hard index finger under your chin to guide your head with the water. You took and swallowed the medicine before resting your head back. He placed the cool towel on your forehead before standing,

"That needs to be empty before you go to sleep." he said behind him as we went back to the bathroom. He re-entered with another cloth in hand. He sat beside you and ran his hand up the length of your leg. You twitched when he reached her inner thigh and he left out an breathy laugh.

He gently separated your legs, lightly lifting it and placing himself on his stomach between them.

He leaned in and softly left open mouthed kisses to the insides of both your thighs. He closed his eyes and sighed at the smell of you; sweet left over arousal and sweat. When he opened them he was eye to eye with your sticky, wet pussy. The sight of your juices and his cum secreting from your used hole left him in a trance.

"Ohhh, Baby. You did so well for me," your heart rate started to increase just slightly, "the best girl I could ever have. So needy. So obedient. Drink your water, honey.

You brought the cup to your lips and Bucky brought the new warm cloth up from his side. He started with a single swipe. You arched your back at the sensation the courses through you. You placed the cup down, mesmerized by him.

"You made me feel so good. Did I make you feel

good?"

"Yes, Daddy," you said as you smiled down at him and ran your fingers through his hair. His grip on your left thigh tightened just a little bit, his body unwillingly notifying you that his heart skipped a beat.

He finished cleaning you up and got up from the bed. He pulled the duvet over you without asking this time. Bucky lifted the cup one last time and you happily drank the rest of it contents. He threw the towels in the hamper, grabbing a shirt from the dresser in the process. He walked back over to you and let you settle into your pjs.

He walked to his side and climbed in, immediately pulling you as close as possible. He left kisses on the back of your neck while he whispered about how he wants to spend the next day.

"I love you, YIN."

"I love you too."

seen this before? tumblr deleted my other account so i have to rebuild