#dark!sam wilson one shot

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Never Let You Go

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Sam Wilson

Summary: you run into an old face as you try to build a new life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Richard, hi,” you approach the table on the cafe patio. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” 

“Oh, don’t fret, I’m always impeccably early,” he stands to greet you and offers his hand, “so good to finally meet in person.” 

“Yes, finally,” you smile. “I really appreciate you coming all the way down here.” 

“I’m of a mind to try new things,” he says. “Especially local places. They put a touch more care into their food.” 

“Have you ordered? They have a great curried egg salad.” You suggest as you claim the seat across from him. He sits as well. 

“Just a coffee,” he says. 

“Sounds great,” you reply. “Could use one as well but if you’d rather just get to business--” 

“Go on, I can wait,” he assures as he checks his watch. “Our meeting is still ten minutes away, technically.” 

“I’ll be quick,” you get up with the promise. 

You head for the door and dip through to join the queue. You’ve been looking forward to the snickerdoodle latte all day and yet Richard spoiled that by being even earlier than you. It’s a good sign at least. It means you’ll probably get the commission. 

You wait your turn patiently. You sway back and forth. You greedily ogle the desserts in the case, your restraint at battle with your sweet tooth. Your eyes are drawn to the paper taped to the glass. ‘Under New Management. Fun changes coming soon!’ 

You come here a couple times a week and you had no idea. You suppose you didn’t ask. You’re always in autopilot; you get in, get your coffee, and go. 

Your turn comes and you step up to order your latte. The snickerdoodle is discontinued. Oh. You get the vanilla bean instead. No use being picky, much more important things to tend to. 

As you pay, a familiar tone catches your ear. It can’t be. The timbre flows through the open door to the back. You take your coffee and go. 

It’s all in your head. You’re not paranoid, just a little... cautious? It’s been months. You’re in a new neighbourhood, you cut all your former clients, well, the ones he didn’t chase away, and you have a new favourite coffee shop. Things are looking up. 

You take your order and return to the table. Richard looks up, smiling over his cup. 

“The coffee is great. I understand they have a new supplier,” he says. “I was chatting with the new owner, he said it’s hand-roasted.” 

“Oh, wow,” you smile. “I didn’t even know it was sold,” you push your shoulders up and set your cup on the table. “Did you want to see my mock-ups?” 

“I certainly would,” he says. 

You bring your bag into your lap and slide out your tablet. You flip back the case and scroll through your folders. You open his file and turn the screen towards him. 

“You can look through,” you say. “I used the pictures you sent me and I applied the changes digitally. I even have an invoice with an inventory of paints, flooring, fixtures. The furniture is separate for ease. And if there’s anything you want to switch out or change or keep, we can do that as well.” 

“Ah,” he takes the tablet. He drags his thumb across. You watch him as he focuses on the screen. “A talented editor too.” 

You turn your head. You don’t want to pressure him. It’s normal for clients to have feedback. You had your initial consultation online and you got his general ideas but it’s different when you can see it. 

“Did you have any alternates? I think this dove grey is immaculate but I’m curious. If we could do around the fireplace in a different colour perhaps?” 

“Oh, I could do something else. I did have another idea for that but it was entirely different. Rustic. The brick was red clay and the walls hardwood.” 

“Interesting, you have that?” He wonders. 

“Sure, it’s in my drafts.” you reach across.  

You take it back and shuffle through to your drafts. You return it to him and he clucks. “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he remarks. You wince. “I’ve now brought myself to stalemate. I’m not sure which on I prefer.” 

“Oh,” you chuckle in relief, “well, it’s easier when you see swatches and materials. That could be the deciding factor.” 

“Probably best,” he agrees. 

He gives you back the tablet and you return it to the other file. You offer it again and he continues to browse. He hums and lowers it again. 

“I know one thing for sure. You’re hired,” he grins. “When can we begin?” 

“As soon as you like,” you try to repress your excitement. Admittedly it’s been difficult since your break-up. Relocating destroyed much of your existing client-base. 

“Wonderful,” he says. “Not to rush out but it is such a nice day and I think we are agreed. If you don’t mind, could you forward those images? I could offer more specific notes?” 

“Sounds good,” you take the tablet. “Thank you so much.” 

“Not at all,” he stands and grabs his cup, draining what’s left in the porcelain before setting it back down. “Have a wonderful day.” 

“You too,” you smile. 

He leaves and you watch after him. You’re ecstatic. You don’t have to dig any further into your savings. 

You sit back and grab your cup. You haven’t even tried the latte. It's not bad. Not the sort of vanilla that’s too sweet. 

“Is it good?” The voice startles you. Not only because it’s unexpected, but because it’s familiar. The same one you were sure you didn’t hear inside. There’s no way... “I changed the recipe. Upgraded the machines...” 

You look up and put the cup down. You gape at Sam as he steps closer and puts his fingertips on the wooden tabletop. “Lot of changes, huh, honey?” 

You gulp. “What?” 

“It’s a cute place but the management was a disaster. Tanking. But I made an investment--” 

“Sam,” you croak, “how...” 

“You blocked my number, yeah, I know.” He smirks. 

You blink. You know better than to argue. Disengage. You put your tablet in your bag and stand, abandoning the latte you’d looked forward to all day. 

He as quick as ever. He catches your wrist over the chair. You tug and look around, “Sam,” you hiss. 

“Shh,” he hushes you. “You know what happens when you make a scene.” 

He calmly sits and draws you closer. You try to resist but he’s too strong. You peer around. No one else seems to notice the tense encounter. If you cry out now, it will be just like that night you broke up with him. For the fourth time. 

He forces you down, onto his lap. Now that might catch a few glances. You shift and lean away from him, your hip pressing into the table. 

“Let me go,” you plead. 

“So, you moved on quick.” 

You wince. It’s been almost a year. 

“New place, new coffee, new... man,” he grits the last word. 

“He was a client.” 

“Oh, I know how you are with your clients,” he sneers. “All bubbly. You were never like that with me, baby.” 

“I tried. Sam, you know it’s over.” 

“I never agreed to that,” he snarls. 

“Sam,” you warn in a flat tone. “Let go or I will scream.” 

“You changed a lot,” he ignores the threat. “Your mom didn’t though. She’s still in the brownstone.” 

“Sam,” you repeat. 

“I really did miss hearing you say my name.” 

Your eyes wet with helplessness. How did it come to this? How did that charming, funny man you met all those years ago turn into this? You mourn what you thought he was more than the relationship. 

“You should finish your coffee,” he leans forward, crushing you against the table as he grabs your cup. “Go on.” 

You stiffen as he lifts the cup to your lips. You sip as you feel him watching. He snickers and pulls it away. He presses against you again to put it down. 

He tuts as he sits back, “ah, you got something...” he wipes your lip with his thumb and purrs. 

“Why are you doing this?” You whimper. 

“Because you’re mine,” he growls and runs his hand up your back, gripping the back of your neck, “you better not forget that again.” 

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Drabbles

Random/One Offs

2022 Drabbles (multi fandom collection)

Wherever You Will Go (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

Not All That Glitters (Thor, Celebrity AU)

Professional Discretion (Steve Rogers, MCU, Boss AU)

Behind the Scenes (Bucky Barnes, MCU, Celebrity AU)

Dirty Little Secret (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All The Time)

What Did I Say? (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

Make You Feel My Love (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Paradigm Shift (August Walker)

Let’s Have A Picnic (Lloyd Hansen)

Song Lyric Drabble Requests

Series

Home Sweet Home (Clark Kent)

Forbidden Lessons (Professor Loki, Professor Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Safe House (Sierra Six, Lloyd Hansen, The Grey Man)

Sweet Tooth (Thor, MCU, Sugar Daddy AU)

Wallflower (Thor, MCU, silverfox AU)

Unsolicited (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

Unexpected (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Bookstore (Jorah Mormont, Game of Thrones, AU)

The Happy Couple (Bucky Barnes, MCU, mob AU)

Resistance (Bucky Barnes, MCU, Dystopian AU)

One (Steve Rogers)

Drawn Together (Steve Rogers)

Hide and Seek (Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes)

Multicharacter/reader AUs

Sweet Treats AU

Sweet Treat Epilogues

The Club

The Backwoods

Girls of Paradise

Sweet and Spicy

Bad Bosses

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans One Shot Rec List

here you will find all of my favourite chris evans + characters fanfiction recommendations, i have many more to add and will continue to update this list. Please don’t forget to reblog these amazing writers fics as they deserve so much love!💘💘

Walk On The Wild Side - @hansensgirl

you just wanted to go for a stroll down the road—but he wants you to take a walk on the wild side. (Dark!Chris Evans)

You Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry - @hansensgirl

they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. (Dark!Multi character) - i would add every single one of her fics to this list if i could💘

Sinful Devotion - @evansbby

Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words, Lloyd pops your cherry)- my favourite writer in the whole universe💘

Smothered With Bliss - @whereireid

Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

The Night - @misshoneybee

Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Little Miss Red - @anika-ann

Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight, when you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Unholy Errand - @buckets-and-trees

You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss. (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark! God The Bounty Hunter + Ransom Drysdale)

What A Shirt Can Tell - @justalonelyslytherin

5+2 times Colin asked 'Is that my shirt?' plus the one time he got asked it. Aka a look through the journey of Colin and his girl, each in which his shirts play an important role.

Start Again - @wkemeup

A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath (Steve Rogers)

Daddy’s Little Pet - @sinner-as-saint

You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Good Girls And Skype Calls - @youre-deadangel

chris gives you a treat for behaving.

Afternoon Delight - @christowhore

you're steve's live-in housekeeper and find your boss and his friends having a bbq on a heatwave stricken afternoon. they invite you to join them and show you all the pleasurable ways to cool down from the sun. (SoftDark!Steve Rogers + Sam Wilson + Bucky Barnes)

Got You - @hispeculiartreasure

The two of you had grown close over the last year; first as teammates, then as friends. You had been distant at the start, just as he had. Slowly, agonizingly - blood, sweat, and tears were definitely involved - walls were dismantled. A current of trust ran between you, one which caught Steve by surprise. As dense as he could be about matters of the heart, suspicions of his blossoming romantic feelings being mutual had proven true with a simple kiss. (Sex Pollen, Steve Rogers)

Golden Boy - @bucksfucks

you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but. (Roommate!Steve Rogers)

It Must Be That Old Evil Spirit - @vonalyn

There’s something unsettling about his demeanor but you can’t quite put your finger on it. As if there’s something hiding beneath the surface just waiting to pry its way out of the tight shirt across his broad frame and tear your throat out. Maybe it’s your general unease around others when you’re traveling alone, or maybe it’s just him.  (Jack-O-Lantern!Ari Levinson)

Stupid Kitty - @onsunnyside

Your father wrongfully entrusted Lloyd to care for you—it’s too bad he’ll never get you back. (Lloyd Hansen x Cat-Hybrid!Reader)

Manners- Or Lack Of Them - @rogerswifesblog

Ransom wants you, the sweet girl at the bar…but you’re not what he expected you to be. (Sub!Ransom Drysdale + Mommy!Reader)

Shadow Boxer - @mypoisonedvine

you’re stuck in the same destructive cycle with ransom, but maybe you don’t want to get out of it. (Angst + Smut, Ransom Drysdale)

It’s Not A Challenge - @gagmebucky

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. (Boxer!Steve Rogers)

Pretty Princess - @frostironfudge

Andy Barber gets jealous when he presumes you shared a room with one of his associates.

Over And Over - @frostironfudge

Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.

Such A Good Boy - @lilacevans

You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way. (Puppy!Ari Levinson) - one of my favourite fics EVER.💘

Breathe - @buckyownsmylife

The one where the new co-star is obsessed with the idea of making Chris hers, but he makes sure to show her you’re the only one for him.

Justified - @dbnightingale24

Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so. - one of the sweetest most talented writers i have ever met💘

My, My, My - @1800jjbarnes

Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

All The Time - @geminixevans-stan

He is one of the most powerful men on earth but there’s more worse than him (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark!Nick Fowler)

Snack - @katherineswritingsblog

he just wants his snack- which is you.

Watchful Eyes - @espinosaurusrexex

When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself. (CEO!Steve Rogers)

Cherry On Top - @dcllbows

you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work. (Ddlg, Daddy!Andy Barber)

Voracious - @arilevinsons

The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. (DarkProfessor!Ari Levinson)

Best Friend’s Dad - @imyourbratzdoll

you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.

The Breeding Ground - @fl0werfae

To others, Ari’s house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups. (Alpha!Ari Levinson)

My Sweet Pea - @mavsstar

Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much. (Trailer Park Au)

Like A Movie Scene In The Sweetest Dream - @worksby-d

Johnny’s always been on your “no” list, but you've finally agreed to work with him. (Pornstar!Johnny Storm)

Easy As Pie - @navybrat817

You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat.

[lady-djarin]

apple pie

bucky barnes x f!reader (one shot)

warnings: soft!bucky, longing, flirting, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, doll), p in v sex (unprotected- wrap it up y’all), fingering, praise, choking, 18+ minors dni GO AWAY YOUNGLINGS

word count: 4.7K

a/n: heyyy so i finally did it! after way to long here she is. this is not edited very much at all so i apologize but i don’t completely hate it and it fills the hole in my heart that is reserved for bucky <3 enjoy!

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Growing up in your small town of Delacroix, Louisiana, everybody knew everybody. One of your good friends growing up was Sarah Wilson. Everyone knew the Wilson’s. especially when Sam became an Avenger. You were born in the city and loved it; the small fishing port, friendly people and small town America feel it had. You worked at one of the oldest diners in town that almost everyone was a regular at. Your uncle owned the place so you helped out when you had the free time. Nothing too exciting ever happened in your sleepy little corner of the south, not until Sam came back to town that is.

The whole town had been buzzing about Sam's return home and all the good work he had done as an Avenger. Sarah had also told you about the “broodingly handsome” friend he had brought home with him. She said that Sam and his friend ‘Bucky’ had been working on the boat constantly, trying to get it up and running. They had stopped in a few times here and there to get lunch or pick up dinner for the whole family but never stayed long enough to talk. There were some moments where you caught the mysterious man looking your way but brushed it off as nothing important. You did agree with Sarah, Bucky was handsome but you figured he’d probably be leaving sometime soon to go save the world or whatever it is that Avengers do.

On Sunday nights you always stayed late to make your signature apple pie for the week to sell at the diner. Everyone had gone home for the night and you were left to finish baking the last pie. You were sitting behind the diner counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when the soft jingle of the front door broke you out of your haze.

“Miss apple pie!” Sam's voice was always a cause to make you smile. You were like brother and sister and you had endless good memories growing up with him.

You looked up and your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met that of the dark haired man beside Sam. You hadn’t thought much of him before, he was attractive, sure but not until now did you really feel anything for the man. His hair was messy, just slightly from working on the boat all day and his white shirt was now covered in grease. He looked rugged and tough in an almost perfect way. His blue eyes stood out under his dark eyebrows, they almost glowed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hey you two, come sit down, I just finished making some.” The two tall men sat in front of you, plopping down with a sigh. Bucky rubbed his right shoulder with his left arm and a glint of metal caught your attention, peeking through the end of his sleeve under his glove. You wondered why he wore the glove but never asked, in fear of offending him. You served the boys their slices of pie and watched as they dug in. You loved making food for people, especially baked goods. Watching people enjoy your hard work filled your chest with pride. The three of you ate and talked for a while until your last pie was done in the oven.

“So, what are you still doing in this small town? I always thought you would get out of here and write a book, or do something amazing,” Sam asked as he wiped his mouth where crumbs of pie crust had fallen.

“Well, you know how it is, my family needed me. Plus where would I go? I don't really have anywhere else to go,” you sighed, placing the now done pies in the fridge, ready for the week.

“You could go anywhere, the world is a large place,” Bucky finally spoke up, otherwise quiet until now. You stared at him, kind of in shock, hearing something coming from his lips.

“I guess that's true...” his icy gaze captured yours, making you unable to look away. A sharp ringtone broke through the silence, causing you to lose your focus on the man in front of you.

“Hi Sarah, I-- yes, I’m on my--- Ok! Ok! I'll be right there, bye,” Sam hung up the phone as he rubbed his forehead. “Sorry guys, I promised Sarah I’d help the boys with their homework,” he shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his plate to help clean.

“No no, don’t worry about it. You guys go, I'll clean,” you took the plates from both men and turned to put them in the sink.

Bucky finally spoke up again. “I’ll stay and help you clean, I'll meet you at home later Sam,” he grabbed the rest of the dirty dishes and pie tins before rounding the counter. Sam said his goodbyes before rushing out the door, mumbling about being late. The two of you spent some time cleaning and making small talk, he told you about how he met Sam through a mutual friend, who just so happened to be Captain America. So naturally you questioned him about that as much as he would allow, until the entire diner was clean. Soon you both realized how late it was and started to head out.

“Thank you for helping, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, considering Sam dined and dashed,” you laughed at the thought of him being yelled at by Sarah over the phone. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh I didn't drive, I only live a few blocks away so I walk,” you motioned down the street, intending to walk alone.

“Well I'm not going to let a pretty lady like you walk home alone,” he stepped closer, eyes lidded and glued to your lips. “Especially looking as sweet as you do,” his hand snaked its way up to your face and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. He held it up to the light to see a spot of powdered sugar on his thumb.

You were about to say how embarrassing it was that you had it on your face all evening but you had a feeling he did that on purpose when he stuck his thumb into his mouth. He relished the taste on his tongue and the almost imperceivable sound that came from his throat made your chest tighten. He smiled that sweet smile like he didn't just do… that, and he stuck his elbow out to escort you down the sidewalk.

The tone of your conversation had definitely shifted towards flirty while walking back to your apartment. He rested his gloved hand on top of yours, a soft yet strong gesture, telling you he would protect you if need be. The two of you walked side by side, getting to know each other with mindless small talk. He didn't talk much, mostly asking about you but he always looked like you were telling him the most interesting thing in the world. Finally you reached your apartment building, though you tried to walk slowly, because of how much you enjoyed his company.

“Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, James,” he told you his full name, although now he regrets it.

“Please, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh are we friends... Bucky?” You took a chance and stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. Testing the waters, you put your hand on his chest, right next to his shoulder. Under his shirt you could feel something hard right near the top of his peck. You kind of toyed with the seam of it under your fingers without trying to draw your eyes to the area.

“It's metal,” he had kind of a lost, sad look in his eye.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to–” you withdrew from him now, feeling awkward at the confession. You could see the hurt in his eyes from the memories that must be playing in his mind. Sam had told you some of the awful things he went through in the service so you can't imagine what Bucky had gone through.

“It's alright, have a good night, doll,” his soft lips gently kissed the apple of your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

Doll. Doll?

Usually you hated cheesy nicknames that men used to make women feel smaller, but coming from his lips, oh lord did it sound nice. The tall man stood watch as you made your way into your apartment building, one last wave before seeing you disappear into the elevator. He would never admit it, but his heart was in his throat the entire time he was with you.

------

“Nothing happened Sam. I walked her home, that's all,” Bucky threw his hands up in defense, neglecting to tell Sam about the kiss on the cheek.

“That's all that better have happened. She's like a sister to me,” Sam was always protective of you, even against his best friend.

“Don't worry Sammy, nothing happened… yet,” he mumbled the last word as he turned away, not letting his friend hear his true intentions.

He would never tell Sam, but he was already over the moon for you, even after only a few interactions. The small smile on your face whenever he spoke, the adorable way you froze when he wiped the sugar off your lip. He had been wanting to do that all night and he was so glad he finally got the courage.

“Buck, I swear, if you so much as think about it–”

“Oh come on, relax! I won’t!”

The two men were standing in the kitchen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. As Sam walked past his friend to go to bed, he whispered to his friend, “Be nice to her, ok? She's like a sister.”

“Will do, Wilson.”

—--

You were cleaning up the diner after closing, tired and sticky from a long day, ready to go home. You had the radio on louder than usual to motivate the cleaning process, unaware of the door jingle you danced your way around the floor, broom in hand. You spun around a corner to head towards the front and finish sweeping when you collided with a solid chest. A small scream lept from your throat when large hands turned you around to face the most beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh Bucky! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry doll, just wanted to see if you need a walk home?” His eyes sparkled when he saw your face, a wide smile to go with them.

“I would love that! Let me put this stuff away, give me a minute.”

You put the cleaning supplies away and turned off the lights and radio while Bucky sat at the same barstool the night you met him. When you were done you gathered up your belongings and Bucky walked you out as you locked the door. He offered his elbow just like the last time.

Such a gentleman.

“So, how was your day?” His voice was deeper than usual.

“Oh you know, the usual. Busy.”

You made small talk the whole way home, like you had known each other forever. By the time you got to your building neither of you wanted it to end.

“Hey… do you want to come in for a beer?” You weren't sure how he would perceive it but with how comfortable he seemed with you, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

“I’d love to.”

The two of you walked up to your apartment and settled into your place like you had done it a dozen times. You opened a beer for the both of you and sat on the couch, close enough to make you want to reach out and touch him. Of course Bucky was an attractive guy and the chemistry was electric, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

After the conversation became comfortable and more than a few beers were empty, you felt bold.

“So…Bucky…” You were still nervous to ask.

“Yes, doll?”

“Can I ask you something…personal?”

You could see the slight change in his demeanor, the anxiety in his face.

“Anything.”

“What happened to your arm?” You could feel your heartbeat out of your chest as your voice shook.

There was a static silence, something shifted in him and you could see it.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It-it’s none of my business… I’m sorry.” you got up and collected the empty bottles, heading to the kitchen when his voice froze you.

“It was the war…” he sounded distant. Like he was in that memory again.

“Bucky, please its ok, I'm sorry i ask–”

“No I… I want to tell you. It was a mission, I thought I was dead...”

You couldn't bear to hear anymore, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn't know how to react at first but he slowly slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you into him. He held you like you were a lifeline, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry Bucky… you didn't deserve this.”

He breathed deep, like he was holding back a sob. You rubbed your hands up and down his back, soothing him while he steadied his breathing again. He pulled away from you just enough to bring his face to yours, his breath fanned across your lips. You looked into each other's eyes, you could feel the mood change. Something was different.

He slid his gloved hand up your arm until it cradled your cheek, the leather feeling foreign on your skin. You put your hand over the glove, pulling it down to your face. Slowly turning over his hand you undid the strap on the top of his glove. Pulling the glove off, revealing a dark gray metal in place of fingers. There were intricate gold details woven through the thin plates of metal.

“Oh my god…”

“I know it's–” he tried to pull his hand away.

“It's beautiful.” You were in shock, it was like he was made of midnight sky with gold stars flying across it.

He was stunned to say the least, unsure of how to respond. Instead, he placed his steel hand on your cheek again. You thought it would be cold, unfeeling. It was quite the opposite, it felt as alive as him.

You turned your head to kiss the inside of his palm, trailing your lips down to the inside of his wrist. You could hear a small hum from his chest, an approval.

That made you want to test the waters.

You put his hand back on your face, moving your face closer to him. You couldn't lie, you wanted to see what his arm looked like, actually, all of him. You slid your hand from his wrist up to his bicep and felt the lines of metal under the cotton shirt clinging to his body. He jolted in surprise but didn’t move away from you as you ran your fingers over the curves of muscle on his arms.

You could still see some hesitation in his beautiful eyes, telling you not many other people might have seen as much of him. You wanted to show him this wasn't some meaningless fling to you, you understood the gravity of this for him.

“James…” He smirked at the formality. “You can tell me to stop.”

The thought never came to him. Instead of putting it into words, he hauled you into his seated lap. The motion pleasantly surprised you, you were glad he took charge and made the decision. You could feel the hardness under your thighs, making it seem like all of him was made of metal. The slightest roll of your hips made him groan from deep in his chest.

“Baby I-” The nickname slipped off his tongue so naturally you almost missed it. “I haven't, uhh, you know– it's been a while.”

“Hey, it's ok. Me too,” you laughed at yourself. Dating in a small town is hard, especially when you know everyone and everyone knows you. You were still moving in his lap, almost undetectable, but enough to make his length harden.

You couldn't tell but he was losing his grip, trying to hold back and not rush you either. You had him mesmerized, lost in your eyes and his hands on your hips that were moving against him. He wanted nothing more than to touch every inch and taste just as much. You were lazily kissing, neither one wanted to break the spell.

His lips were soft like silk and he smelled like smoke and motor oil. The thought of him working on that boat with Sam made your thighs clench. You could imagine him bare chested and sweaty out in the Louisiana sun. You intertwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to draw him closer. The motion sealed your lips together further and his tongue danced across yours as his hands roamed your body. He caressed and squeezed every curve he could find, leaving you breathless.

You needed more.

You wanted to taste him.

You kissed your way down his neck and clothed chest all while trying to remove his shirt. You slid down on your knees between his thighs and looked up at him with bated breath. He didn't object to your action and you took it as a sign to continue. You worked the button and zipper open on his jeans and he moved his hips out of the confining fabric. His hard length was tenting his underwear and your mouth practically watered at the sight. Your hands on his thighs slid closer to the waistband of his boxers, pulling the fabric slightly. You peppered little kisses and small bites along all his clothed skin, watching him get visibly harder.

“Oh fuck baby…” his voice was dark and soothing. He was holding back for your sake, letting you do what you want but he was slowly starting to slip.

You finally removed the remaining clothing around his hips and motioned for him to remove his shirt. The muscles on his chest strained with the effort and before he leaned back again you were on him. You wrapped your mouth around the head dripping with precum before he even saw you do it.

“Shit–” His hands flew into your hair to hold you just like that and he relaxed into the couch. Your mouth worked him the best you could but he wasn't a small guy by any standard. Your eyes watered when you took him all the way, your nose hitting the curls at the base of him. He groaned at the warmth of your mouth and knew he wouldn't last long. You bobbed your head up and down while his large hand gripped your hair, pulling just hard enough to feel good. You knew you were dripping, ruining your underwear but you didn't care. All you wanted was to hear this man moan your name for as long as he’d allow. Your name came in broken moans as he chased his high.

Bucky was getting carried away, he should be the one pleasing you not the other way around, he thought. But when you slid your tongue up the vein running along him, he was powerless to stop you. He almost felt guilty for it but couldn't bring himself to make you stop, you felt too good.

The salty taste of precum told you he was close, painfully close, so naturally… you slowed down. You were torturing him a little bit but having this powerful super soldier in the palm of your hand was just too good. You could see the almost painful look in his face when he looked down at you, urging you to touch him.

“James… I need you.”

His name, those three words, it sent him tumbling over that edge of control. He extended his hand to help you up and before you could get your bearings he pulled you down to fall onto the couch. So there you were, face down in the pillow with your fully clothed ass in his face. He pulled the band of your soft pants down your hips, along with your underwear, fully exposing you. The cool air of the room brushed your skin as he moved behind you. His hands were steady as they moved across the skin of your ass. You were dripping no doubt. The slick feeling was making you blush, Bucky hadn’t even really touched you yet and you were practically putty in his hands.

Your heart was thundering in your chest knowing he was staring at you, probably deciding what to do. After a brief moment he pulled you up against his chest, one hand on your chest over your shirt and the other sneaking up under the hem of the fabric.

“Jesus, you…” he nuzzled his nose into the hair draped over your neck. “You're so soft.”

He ran his hands under your top and pulled the thin bra over your hardening nipples. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the pebbled skin and you unclasped the band of your bra and pulled off your top to let him have full access to all of you. His touch was so soft and sweet, it made you even wetter. You had a feeling he was holding back because he was afraid to hurt you.

Oh, if he only knew.

“Please, Bucky… I-I want you. All of you.” your voice was so small that you barely heard it.

“What baby? What do you need?”

You clenched around nothing hearing his voice, whining a response not able to form words. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hard length against your soft backside. His voice echoed in your ear, almost like a low growl from his chest.

“I– p-please…” You were delirious. And his roaming hands were not helping.

His lips were just as curious as his hands. His tongue was tracing the strong pulse in your neck all the way up to your ear. He sucked on the sensitive skin behind your ear and you rolled your head back to accommodate him. You couldn't help how your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled your hair back to keep your neck exposed. His fingers were tangled in your hair, he completely controlled where your head was. You moaned as he continued to lick and nip at your neck and slowly inched his metal fingers toward your slick center.

The dark metal was biting in a good way, harder than flesh but still comforting to the touch. The gold glinted off the low light in the room, catching your eye. Your gaze followed his fingers as they spread the wetness around your clit. You moaned as he sped up his movements until you were a painting mess, his arms the only thing holding you up.

“Oh f-fuck… mmm Ja–James…” You whined when he pushed his middle two fingers into your heat. Your hips ground onto his hand, the metal smooth yet the grooves in the design made you dizzy as your sensitive bundle of nerves ground into the heel of his hand. You were seeing stars and were quickly barreling toward a release. His chest pressed against your back let you feel his climbing heartbeat and rapid breathing.

Just as you felt a warmth start to spread in your lower stomach, he pulled his expert fingers away. You slumped against the loss and moaned in protest.

“I need to see your face when you cum.”

He swallowed your moan and shifted you to lay on your back, ever so softly. Ever the gentleman. Your heart swelled. Before you had a chance to register, his massive arms opened your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest. His grip was strong enough to bruise and you hoped it did. He ran his metal fingers over your soft folds, through your slick and hummed as he licked it off.

“Mhmm, sweet as apple pie.” He gave you that devastatingly brilliant smirk that just made you melt.

You hummed as he rubbed his tip through your folds, his chest exhaling above your face. He locked eyes with you as he guided his length into your swollen pussy. You practically purred as he bottomed out inside you. It was like liquid ecstasy was running through your veins, something you never experienced before.

“Jesus Christ, look at you doll.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged out of him, across gravel. The sound made you clench around him. “Y’look so pretty like this…” his words were almost slurred, like he was drunk on you.

And if he was honest with himself; he was drunk on you. This was a new feeling, entirely its own. It felt like his body was reacting to yours in some indescribable way. As he rocked into you, the only sounds were of your quiet moans and breaths, your noises spurring him on more.

“L-let me hear you baby… talk t– talk to me.”

“James… oh my– my god, you feel so…so good.” You clung onto his arms as they framed your head. You turned toward his mechanic arm, your lips meeting his thumb. You licked the digit, wanting to feel the metal in your mouth. He must have noticed your unconscious movements because he adjusted his arm and cupped his hand around your jaw, the thumb teasing your bottom lip. His hips never lost their rhythm as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. You moaned and sucked on his finger and his grip tightened on your face and eventually slid to your neck.

You couldn’t help the small smile that broke on your lips. You knew he saw it, and that he knew what it meant. The metal digits tightened around your throat, just enough to send stars across your vision.

“Oh fuck… you’re so fu— fucking tight. You— you like that don’t you? You like my hand around your throat?”

He was picking up the pace now. Whether he meant to or not his hips were slamming into you much harder now, every thrust causing his grip to tighten on your neck. The lewd noise of him moving inside you was ringing in your ears, the loss of blood flow made you dizzy. But you think you might just die if he stopped.

He kept his Vibranium hand on your pulse while he sat back and reached between you. For a moment you thought he was going to stop but when his fingers found your sensitive clit, you gasped at the feeling. He knew just how to fill your veins with fire, set your whole body ablaze. As he expertly circled your bundle of nerves you could feel his significant size swell inside you. You knew he was close.

“Bu— Bucky… please…” your words were long and drawn out. You were teetering on the edge now, practically vibrating with your pent up release. You needed one thing, one small thing to send you over that edge.

And he was that one thing.

“Fuck— where?”

You knew his release was going to be your salvation. You wrapped your legs around his hips, sealing him to you, telling him to empty inside you. Your walls clamped down on him, wringing him dry as he came and practically whined in your ear. He never stopped his movements on your clit. Feeling him finish inside you was all you needed to scream his name as the fire in your veins exploded. You came harder than you ever have before, like nothing you ever experienced.

You both could do nothing but lay there as your bodies recovered. Bucky stroked your arm and hummed as you nuzzled into him.

“Shower?” his chest rumbled with the words.

“Only if I can come with.”

“Deal.”

He kissed you all the way to the bathroom and didn’t let you lift a finger while he turned on the shower and made sure there were towels for both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect of the mysterious soldier but, boy you were not disappointed.

Sadly, you had a feeling deep in your stomach that he wouldn’t be around long. I mean, who can expect a superhero to stick around for very long when there is a whole word to save.

But damn it if you weren’t going to enjoy it while it lasted.

[simpingforheros]

Guide

Fluff - 💗

Hurt/Comfort - ❤️‍🩹

Angst - 💀

Spicy but Not Smut- 🥵

Smut - 🔥

Dark - ⛓️

Disclaimer: While I do my best to label any and all trigger warnings in my posts, I would like ask that yall take a good look at any warnings before you read anything online. Minors DNI as I intend for all my stories, whether NSFW and Dark or Fluffy and SFW, to be for an 18+ audience. While I do my part as the writer to accurately give trigger warnings and label my content appropriately, please be conscious of the triggers and take care of yourselves.

Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Bring Me To Life (Arkham Knight! Jason Todd X Female! Reader) 💀❤️‍🩹⛓️ (One Shot, either a future series or rewritten someday)

Corruptions (Arkham Knighy! Jason Todd X Female! Reader) 💗❤️‍🩹🔥⛓️ (part two to Bring me to Life)

Jason Todd Headcanons 1 💗🔥⛓️

Jason's Girl ?? (Jason Todd x Female! Reader) 🔥💗

Jason’s Wife?! (Jason Todd X Female! Reader) (part 2 to Jason’s Girl??)🔥💗

Jason Broke What?? ( Jason Todd x Female! Reader) (part 3 tp Jason's Girl)🔥💗

Gifted with Love (Jason Todd x Female! Reader)🥵💗

You Belong to Me (Hush! Jason Todd X Female! Reader) (Coming soon)

Safe (Gotham Knights! Jason Todd X Female! Reader) ❤️‍🩹💀

Blurb 1 🥵

Barbara Gordon

Clark Kent

Conner Kent

Diana Prince

Cole Cash

Oliver Queen

Dinah Lance/Queen

Roy Harper

Lover Man (Roy Harper x Single Mom! Female! Reader) 💗🔥

Blurb 🔥

Barry Allen

Wally West

Martian Manhunter

Starfire

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Bruce Banner

Natasha Romanoff

Sam Wilson

Clint Barton

Bucky Barnes

Yelena Belova

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Wade Wilson

Eddie Brock

Logan Howlett

Miguel O’Hara

Sunny X Miggy Series (Grumpy! Miguel O’Hara X Sunshine! Reader) 💗❤️‍🩹 (Retired series from old account)

Bi-Han

Moonlight Lies ( Bi-Han X Female! Reader) 💀🔥 ((coming soon))

Noob Saibot

Hanzo Hasashi (not the child)

Kuai Liang

Tomas Vrbada

Clearing the Smoke (Tomas ‘Smoke’ Vrbada X Female! Reader) 💗🔥❤️‍🩹💀 ((coming soon))

Johnny Cage

Kenshi Takahashi

Takeda Takahashi

Kung Lao

Raiden

Liu Kang

Shang Tsung

Reptile

Ashrah

Sindel

Mileena

Kitana

Tanya

Li Mei

Cyrax

Sektor

[rebeliz7]

More than anything

Wanda Maximoff x Super Soldier!Reader

Warnings: Killgrave shenanigans - forced acts - descriptions of blood - fighting - quite a bit of fighting.

Request: What about a Wanda maximoff x powered fem reader where Killgrave gets to the reader and forces her to fight the avengers and try to kill them and Wanda is the only one who can stop her.

Word Count: 4520

…

You don’t believe in bad omens. At least you’ve never been one to pay that sort of thing any mind. 

When you enter Tony’s lab and you notice him atop a large iron ladder, trying to reach a vent, you’re wondering why he isn’t using one of his suits to levitate so high that you end up walking right underneath the open ladder. 

The weird this is---you notice it, and a weird heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach because of it. 

“That’s bad luck, you know?” Sam tells you as he walks inside as well. 

“It’s just a ladder, Wilson.” You try to brush it off but he shrugs his shoulders, and you kind of hate him for telling you that.

“Not what my mom used to say.” He says, but you keep the comeback to yourself this time. 

It’s not what Wanda says either, and although you don’t believe in that kind of thing, you’re still aware of superstitions and always try to avoid ‘poking the bear’.  

You talk with Tony and leave his lab quickly. It’s not until much later that you remember this particular moment and that damn ladder. 

… 

The mission was a simple one. Get in, detain the suspects, free the hostages. Simple.

Simple is the furthest from your current situation though. 

When you got to the scene earlier, you quickly noticed the swarm of people willing to fight anyone who tried to get in. The odd part about it is---they all seem to be fighting against their will, as if someone’s forcing them, controlling them. 

“Something isn’t right.” You speak through your coms, as you press your back against a near wall to catch your breath. 

“Talk to me.” Natasha’s voice comes through quickly, but so does another attack. 

You barely avoid the iron bar coming to your head, only to come face to face to the guy that’s gripping said bar with trembling hands and tears running down his pale cheeks. 

You watch him for a split second, but he’s fighting against what he’s doing and the same feeling that washes over you when you walked inside Tony’s lab makes a comeback. 

That damn ladder. 

“Something’s not right, Nat.” You respond, avoiding the guy’s attacks again but refusing to attack him back. 

He screams, coming at you with more attacks, one after another. Taking pity of him, you take the bar off his hands and slap him across the face. He falls unconscious and you catch his body before it hits the ground to lay him down gently.  

“These people are not right.” You tell the team through the coms again, eyes still on the guy that’s on the floor. 

You have a terrible feeling. 

“I agree. It’s like they don’t want to be here. Someone just apologized to me before attacking.” Sam’s voice comes through, and you decide to leave. Better to leave now, and come back with more information than fighting in the dark like this.  

The reports said that you need to stop a group of individuals who are dangerous and seem to be enhanced in some unknown ways, and have been causing mayhem across town. You haven’t seen anyone enhanced so far but that’s not to say that something isn’t right. 

“What do we have here?” A voice speaks, making you halt in your step and turn around slowly. 

A guy, shorter than you and much more skinny, smiles at you. Involuntary shivers run down your spine at the sight of his creepy smile, but you still assess him. 

British accent, in his early forties, purple suit and one hundred percent creepy.  

“Who are you?” You ask him but he just smiles, and walks closer to you.  

“Drop the mics, darling.” The shot of electricity that runs through you at hearing his command, feels like a bucket of ice cold water dripping down your back. 

You do as he says, without resistance and when it’s done, panic begins to build up in the pit of your stomach. You’re terrified. 

“What’s happening?” You ask him, your voice an octave higher and he simply smiles. 

“No talking on your part for now. I’m going to do the talking, and you’re going to listen. Speak only when I tell you to.” He says and tears spring to your eyes when you realize that you can’t talk, even though you want to. “That’s better.” He smiles. 

This is what’s happening here. All these people were ordered by this guy to fight you and now you see it. You need to warn the team, but you don’t know how. 

“First of all,” he says as he runs a finger down your jacket clad arm, making you shiver involuntarily. “Take this off, it's way too hot for anyone to be wearing leather.”

Every cell in your body wants to protest at this particular command, but you take off the jacket just like he wants you to and drop it on the ground. 

You know that you have to warn the others, you have to fight him, you have to stop him---but you can’t move, you can’t even talk. 

“Come over here.” He tells you as he enters a room that leads you down a dark hallway, and you silently follow him. 

“Smile, darling. You’re looking way too serious.” He says over his shoulder and you feel your lips rising up on the edges, and you’re smiling so wide that it’s hurting your cheeks but you continue to do it because you have to and that’s all that matters. 

Doing what he says it’s all that matters. 

“Break this door.” He orders next, when you stand in front of a wooden locked door and without a question you kick it open for him. 

“You remind me of someone.” He says with a bit of melancholy in his tone but when he catches sight of your face, he grimaces and flinches back. “Stop smiling now, you’re creeping me out.” He laughs, and you stop immediately.

“You’re an Avenger, right?” He asks as he guides you down some stairs. “I saw the mighty Captain before I found you all alone in those stairs. Lucky me. Answer.”

“I’m a Winter Soldier.” You answer, and he claps his hands in delight. 

“Oh, this is fantastic! You and I are gonna have so much fun together. Yes, we will!”

He guides you to an underground parking lot and then hands you the keys of a car before getting in the passenger seat, and you follow suit. 

“Be a darling and drive us out of this mess, would you?” He says offhandedly, bored, and you turn on the engine before backing up. 

You drive away from the building and your team doesn’t notice, no one is following you and you want to ask him what will happen with the people he's leaving behind but you still can’t talk freely.

“Take me somewhere safe.” He says after five minutes on the road, and you immediately think of safe houses. “A place where the Avengers won’t find us.” He clarifies and you nod at him.

Pictures of places where the Avengers would never find you pop in you head at his request, and you turn the car around. He smiles, a look you can’t comprehend passing through his eyes, and then your cell phone rings. 

“Who is calling you?” He asks as you retrieve your phone promptly, you see the picture of your girlfriend on the screen and your vision becomes a bit blurry around the edges with the blink of your eyes. 

“My girlfriend.” You tell him and he takes the phone from you, studies the picture for a hot second and then gives it back to you.

“Answer. Tell her that you’ve taken another route back. Tell her you’re okay and that you’ll see her soon.”

Something within you wants to fight back but you slide your fingers across the screen to answer anyway, because you need to do as he says. 

“Hey, babe.” You answer casually. 

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Wanda asks, sounding agitated. “Your coms are down.”

“I’m okay. I’m taking another route back to the Compound.” You tell her, the lie falling easily off your lips and you feel sick to your stomach. 

“Why? What happened?” Wanda asks and you can hear the worry in her voice but you need to say what he told you to say, nothing else matters. 

“I’m okay. I’ll see you soon.” You end the call at once and the man smiles at you, and when he stretches out his hand you place your phone on the palm of his hand willingly. 

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride but you feel him watching you, and you can’t resist him at all even though somewhere in the back of your mind you know that you need to. 

When you arrive at a place that you know he’ll be alright, he takes a deep breath before sitting at the head of the dining table, as if this has always been a place known to him and you are an old friend. 

“Come, sit with me.” You sit to his right and with a finger on his lips he seems to be deep in thought.

You’re shaking, afraid out of your mind because the more time you spend with him the more you realize that nothing else matters to you. 

Still, you try to resist the urge. 

“Why were the Avengers there today?” He asks after a beat.

“We were asked to help by the local police.”

“Do they know of me?” He asks and you shake your head. “That’s grand. That’s fantastic! Now!” He claps his hands again, his smile never wavering. “A Winter Soldier, you said?”

“Yes.” 

“That makes you just as strong as Captain America.”

“Yes.”

“Just as lethal as good old Barnes, right?”

“Yes.”

Your head is fuzzy, like you can’t think of anything else besides this man and his words.

“I want you to kill them all.” He says and your head spins, but you don’t know why. All you know is that you need to do as he asks. “I want you to kill all the Avengers and when that’s done I need you back here with me. I have plans for us.”

…

You secure the safe house before you leave. You know exactly where to find the Avengers, you know exactly how to kill them all and you have an order. 

You ditch your car a mile away from the Compound, and you make your way inside without any resistance. You know this place like the back of your hand after all. 

You could just walk through the front door, you realize, but the rifle in your hand would be too suspicious to not raise any alarms. You need them dead, and you need them dead quickly so you can go back to that man. 

You have so many options to take them out, so many ways that they won’t even see coming. 

Groaning to yourself, you keep on walking, trying to ignore why there’s a knot around your throat or why the thought of killing these Avengers pains you so. All you know is that you have an order and you need to fulfill it, you need to do as he asked. 

Nothing else matters. 

You could wait for everyone to go to bed first, but Friday would send an alarm to everyone the moment it recognizes that it’s being hacked and you can’t be found out just yet. You’ll do this without hacking into Friday, it seems. 

… 

You place bombs on every getaway route and wait. The moment the bombs go off, you know Friday will lock them in, activating security protocols. 

When the bombs go off, and everyone tries to run out you’re waiting at the perfect spot for them. 

Sam is the first one to run out. He breaks one of the large windows in the common room, but he doesn’t make it further. You put a bullet in his shoulder, on the only blank spot of his suit just as he’s about to take off flying. 

He falls backwards with force and you curse under your breath. The bullet should have gone into his head, that was the right thing to do. Now he’s injured and in the blue. 

Kill them, he said. 

You have a clear shot to his jugular and you shoot. 

The bullet ricochetes off Captain America’s shield, who just came out through the same window to his help. You instantly try to point at the new target, but Steve throws his shield at you in a split second. 

Rolling backwards, you barely avoid being hit by his shield. Not missing a beat you get ready to shoot again but the look on Steve’s face makes you take a stop. 

“What?” He asks himself, confused. You shake your head, fighting against the cloud of fogginess that’s taking over your vision and the ripping pain that threatens to break you from the inside out. 

Throwing the rifle to the ground, you decide to jump down and meet them halfway but not before checking your chest for wounds. This pain---this pain feels too real to be anything other than physical. 

You don’t know what’s happening anymore. You just know that you need them dead. You need to do as the man said. 

“What is happening?” Wanda asks, finally making an appearance and your eyes meet hers across the yard. 

You want to go to her---but she’s an Avenger.  

“She did this.” Steve tells her and you take a deep breath. You need them dead, you need them all dead.

Not waiting another second, you leap for him, punching him in the jaw before he can see you coming. You need him dead, you just need the Avengers dead. That’s all you know, that’s all you need to do.

Steve fights back, although still confused and reluctant to do so. When he punches you in the jaw, something crosses your mind, recognition. 

He punches you again, making you take several steps back. You need them dead, don’t you?

Looking up, you catch sight of your own reflection in one of the larger windows and you become so dizzy that you almost lose your balance where you stand. 

What are you doing?

“Why are you doing this? You have to stop!” Steve tells you but you’re staring at your reflection because you’re crying, and your tears seem to expand the pain in your chest---your chest that isn’t injured.

“I have to kill you.” You tell him as you turn around to face him one more time. 

Steve frowns, blood dripping down the side of his mouth where you punched him before. The need to scream overtakes you, even more so when you see Sam bleeding out on the ground and Wanda---Wanda who doesn’t seem to be able to move, too confused by what you’re doing. 

You see her in your peripheral vision a second too late. Natasha comes at you from the shadows, and she’s hard to pin down. 

One of her bites hit you in the back, making you fall to your knees, the electricity of it making you grow in pain. Not that it’s enough to keep you down, and she knows it. 

Next, she jumps on your shoulders with one of her signature moves but you’re ready for her this time around. You grab her hair in a tight grip around your fist and pull her forward with all your strenght. 

Her back hits the ground hard and you’re so worked up, that you go after her without a pause. You raise your boot clad foot to stomp on her face but someone pulls you back, making you stumble before you realize who’s come to Natasha’s rescue. 

Steve looks pained, his lip has swollen and you can’t seem to shake the look of Natasha’s terrified expression off your head. 

You need them dead. You just need them dead. You need to do as he said. 

Attacking Steve for a second time is far easier, you know him and you know his weak spots. He grows tired after only a few minutes, as if he’s no match for you at all, and you know you can finish him. 

You almost have him, you can do this fast and you can be back to the man before midnight. You need to get back to him because he has plans. 

Bleeding and tired yourself, you manage to get a hold of his shield. You can taste blood on your tongue, tears running down your cheeks and you’re about to finally end him.

He’s on the ground and you can end him with one hit of his own shield---one single blow and he’ll be dead. You have to. 

“No.” A voice echoes in your ears, inside your head---it vibrates all throughout your body, you feel it in your veins. 

“No.” The voice says again, cutting through the fogginess of your brain like a well sharpened knife, and the pain is unbearable.  

“Stop!” You scream, as you let go of the shield and you fall to the ground, hands on your head and rolling on the grass.

The pain is blinding---it feels like your head is splitting in half. You can’t take it.

“Darling, you need to stop.” The voice says and you scream louder, unable to take the pain that comes with that voice. It’s scrambling your brain, you can feel it. 

“Please.” The voice begs, broken and strained. 

“Stop!” You scream back, finally recognizing the voice. 

You have to kill them. You have to kill them, that’s all that matters. 

“He’s controlling you.” Wanda says, still in your head, her voice resonating only for your ears. 

But you need to go back to him, you need them dead. He’s waiting for you.  

“No, you don’t.” Wanda says, replying to your thoughts. “You don’t need to go back to him. You need to be here. With me. With us. We’re your family.”

Screaming, your voice carries out as you punch the ground so hard that the dirt gives in with the force of your fists.

You can see the forgiveness of your brain slowly lifting, as if it were a drape and someone is finally opening it, letting the light come through. 

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but that blinding need to do as the man told you to do, still palpates within you, although not as strong.

You catch sight of Steve, bleeding on the floor where you left him. His face is bloody, his left eye shut closed and swollen---you almost don’t recognize him, and you did that to him.  

Your hands are splashed with his blood and dirt, and you’re shaking. 

“I need to do this.” You speak out loud. “I need to do this.”

Wanda’s close to you now, tears running down her cheeks as she reaches for you. 

You clutch her hands desperately, but she’s firm as she takes your face and forces you to look at her, although you can’t meet her eyes. 

“Look at me.” She says but her lips aren’t moving, she’s still in your head. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you meet her hazel eyes. She’s so strong right now, stronger than you ever thought possible. 

“You have to fight it. You have to fight him out of your mind.” She tells you. 

“You don’t understand.” You cry, head shaking as his command unravels through you. “I need to do what he asked me to do. I need to.”

“No.” She fiercely tells you, her hands anchoring you. “Fight him back.” She orders you---and something within you breaks free.

The light pours in and the pain is so devastating that you fall backwards, clutching your head as everything overwhelms you. 

You scream until your voice begins to waver, until your head feels as if it’s been chopped off and replaced. 

“I can’t.” You cry out when you still need to do as he said, only now you’re aware of it. You know what he asked and you know how wrong it is.   

“Listen to me.” Wanda’s voice orders again, and you will yourself to listen. “You’re stronger than this.”

You’re not, you’re really not. You can’t fight this command.

“I love you so much.” Wanda tells you as you try to stay concious.  “I love you and I need you to fight him out. Do it.”

“I lo - ” Your voice is hoarse and a sob breaks through your lips when you look at her. “I lo - I love you too.”

She sends you a small smile in return and you focus on the images that she’s putting in your head, images of the two of you together and you let her wander your mind until you inevitably pass out. 

…

You wake up with a start, and one hell of a headache. You’re in the medbay and Wanda is sleeping right next to you, her arm firmly wrapped around your middle protectively and you don’t know what to do.

“You kicked our asses.” Natasha casually says from a nearby chair that you didn’t notice before.

Her voice comes accompanied by a wave of guilt that washes over you mercilessly. Especially when you look at her face and catch the fresh bruises adorning it. Bruises that you put there. 

Tears rush to your eyes as everything comes back to you, and you can’t get a grip of yourself.  

“I’m so sorry.” You cry, begging for her forgiveness. Nat’s quick to walk over to you though, and press her lips on your temple for a few long seconds. 

“None of that.” She assures you when she leans back and takes your hand with both of hers. “We tracked your phone. We took precautions and we caught him. He’s on his way to the Rift as we speak. He’ll never get to you, or anyone again.”

You almost bolt out of the bed at hearing that anyone else could have been in close proximity to that man, but Wanda holds you tighter. 

“We got him.” She tells you softly and close to your ear, making you cry even harder.

You cry for long minutes that feel like an eternity. 

You were a Winter Soldier, you’ve been that kind of slave but back then you didn’t know anything, you didn’t know what you were missing, you didn’t even know who you were. 

This man made you a slave while you could still remember your name and the people that you love, he made you go after them and turned your head into a mess in order for you to do what he wanted you to.

“I love you.” Wanda murmurs in your ear again, and again and you hold her just as tight. 

If it weren’t for her---you don’t even want to think about what could have happened if it weren’t for her.

You only raise your head when you hear pouring, and you find Liho walking on your legs. He immediately pokes your mouth with his head and your nose throbs in pain, and you remember that Steve broke it. 

“They’re okay.” Wanda says, her hand on Liho’s head and her lips pressing fleeting kisses on the corner of your lips, as if she can’t be away from you. “Nothing they can’t recover from.”

“They’ll be fine.” Natasha says offhandedly as she picks up her cat from your chest and you grip Wanda’s arm to keep her close. “I’m gonna take this one up for some food, and I’ll put something together for dinner. Come up in thirty.”

You nod, still a bit uncertain that you deserve her care after what happened but thankful nonetheless.

“Thanks, Nat.” Wanda says for the both of you and then she sits up on the bed, her hands never leaving yours. You watch as she kisses your bruised knuckles, and you love her so much that your breath comes out short. 

“I think I knew.” You say and she gives you her entire attention. “When I shot Sam, I knew I should shoot him in the head, but I still shot him in the shoulder.”

“You were struggling. You were fighting him even before I intervened.” She says, leaning down to wipe away your tears and to kiss you softly. You cup her face and return her kiss.

“I could have used the rifle on Stev,e but I didn’t.” You tell her next and she nods, a proud smile on her lips. 

“I know.” 

“Do you think they’ll forgive me?” You ask her, and she kisses you again. 

“There wasn’t a moment when Steve thought that you were doing that on your own.” She tells you and then points to her head, you know she’s telling you the truth because she saw inside of his head. “Sam is slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to kick your ass but he didn’t doubt you either. Neither did Natasha.”

“And you?” You ask, your hand on her shoulder, keeping her close and revealing the weight of her body half on  top of yours even if you’re hurting, even if you can still feel Steve’s fists colliding with your ribs. 

“I believe in you.” She says, her lips close to yours. “I love you more than anything.”

You pull her closer and kiss her until you can’t take the pain on your nose, and she pulls back with a smile on her lips. You don’t know how you got this lucky, you don’t even know how she made her way into your life or how you made your way into hers. 

But God! You love her. 

“Thank you.” You tell her as you remember the things that she made you see when you were struggling. She showed you the first time she saw you, the first time she wanted to kiss you, your first kiss, images of you two watching a movie and grocery shopping, small things that pulled you right out of the nightmare you were living. 

“You continue to save me.” She frowns at hearing your words and you kiss the palm of her hand. “You came into my life and everything changed.”

“So did you.” She softly says and you smile.

“I love you more than anything too.” You tell her and she kisses you again. 

You’ll have to apologize to Steve and Sam, but for now you can just kiss your girlfriend and be grateful that you didn’t do anything that can’t be undone. 

Liho jumps on your bed soon after though, a clear sign that Natasha is already waiting for you and you have to follow him to the elevator.

….

[jadedvibes]

Some Bucky to brighten your day. ❤️

Last First Kiss

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Excessive fluff, first kisses, soft Bucky in Louisiana for New Year's Eve.

Word Count: 600

A/N: Thank you for this sweet @navybrat817. This truly brightened my day and inspired a nye drabble! Hope everyone has a very Happy New Year! 💙✨

“So a little birdie told me you’ve never had a new year’s kiss…” Bucky leaned against the wood railing beside you, taking in the sunset on the bayou.

Your eyes widened before you took a deep breath. “I’m gonna kill him.” Ever the meddler, Sam would tell your secret to the first guy you’d liked in a long time. 

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” he let out a laugh. “Sam always knows the exact right thing to do to get under your skin, it’s a gift really.” 

You shrugged casually. “He overheard me telling Sarah. It’s no big deal.” It really wasn’t, but you knew why Sam was annoyingly butting in. He’d also heard you telling his sister about how smitten you were with his dark-haired best friend. 

“Well let me know if you want to change that.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, a small smile playing at your lips. There was no way. “The killing him part or the kiss?” 

Bucky smirked, charmed and hopeful that you’d agree. “I haven’t had one in a while, so keep me posted,” he checked his watch. Only a few more hours until midnight. The Wilson household had planned a lowkey evening for the kids later, and the both of you would be in attendance. 

He’d secretly had a crush on you for a little longer than you had on him and with Sam’s encouragement he figured there was no better time to do something about it.

“Haven’t committed a murder or given a kiss in a while?” You smiled sheepishly, trying awfully hard to deflect. Of all the reactions to finding out you’d never had a new year’s kiss, this was the last one you expected. Sam’s best friend, a guy you thought was off-limits, offering to change things for you.

He let out a laugh, you were too adorable. “Think about it, sweetheart. I hear it’s good luck,” he playfully shot you a wink before heading back to the barbeque. 

Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you turned back to look at the setting sun over the calm waters. Colorful, peaceful, and captivating.

Later that night.

Sam nudged Sarah before shouting. “Guys it's 12:04, you’ve rung in the new year! You can break it up now.”

Grinning against Bucky’s lips, you felt your cheeks warm again. Busted.

Bucky begrudgingly pulled away from you, turning to glare at Sam. “Just getting as much luck from this as we can, man. Feel free to look away,” he muttered breathlessly before meeting your gaze with a soft shy smile. His thumb stroked your jawline, noting how beautiful you were up close. 

He went from menacing to cute in a split second. How did he do that? It didn’t really matter because the way he looked at you, well you sure could get used to it. 

“Yeah, look somewhere else,” you teasingly scowled at Sam before tugging at Bucky's henley and kissing him again. He cupped your face and poured himself into the kiss. He thought he was out of practice, but it surprised him how easily he fell back into step with you. Soft and sweeter than anything you could’ve imagined. Warm and careful with just the right amount of desire to leave you aching. Nothing you could have expected, yet everything you silently wished for. 

Neither of you knew it then, but what a lucky year it would turn out to be. Never did you imagine that the man that would be your first new year’s kiss would also be your last; for many years in between, and every day after. 

[sjsmith56]

Bucky Barnes, Deadpool and the TVA (or How I ended up inside the fourth wall)

Summary: A Bucky Barnes fanfiction writer finds herself in the same universe as the Thunderbolts* Bucky when she wakes up in his bed.

Length: 4.1 K

Characters: Unnamed and undescribed OFC, Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Wong, B-15, variant of OFC, OMC (OFC’s husband)

Warnings: some sexual innuendo, naked horny Bucky, no smut (sorry)

Author notes: Just a silly story that I pulled from somewhere in my mind. The part about the OFC and her husband seeing the new Deadpool movie at a matinee was based on real life.

💻 🦾 🛵

The blank page stared at me.  It wasn't blank five minutes ago, but I read what I wrote, and didn't like it, so I deleted it and then I was looking at the page again.  We met before, you, the reader and me, the writer.  I sought help from the very reason I write, Bucky Barnes.  The writing gods first sent me World War II Bucky, a sweet flirty guy who was still interested in the stories I wrote.  The version that appeared to me was from before Azzano and before the train; that dreadful transport of death that changed his whole life in a moment.  Then they sent me the Winter Soldier, the dark brooding villain ... I know, he was more than that, but that was HYDRAs use of him.  He was their Fist, brutally carrying out assassinations on targets they assigned him.  Relentless and frightening in his attention to his task he was still a sight to see; that tall, dark-haired muscular menace and the way he strutted towards his target.  No hesitation, no regrets and totally the object of many fantasies.  I still got warm thinking about the ones I read about, never mind wrote.  On that day, it was Falcon and the Winter Soldier (FATWS) Bucky who came to my rescue.  It was him as he was portrayed at the end of the series, seemingly in a place where he felt at home in Delacroix, becoming part of Sam Wilson's family as their adopted uncle.  That Bucky sat with me, helped me through my writer's block, and even gave me an idea for a Black Widow smut piece that was a gift to my husband.  Before he left, he said he would always be there for me.  At the time, he probably meant it.  Then there was a disturbance in the Force.

Wrong franchise, I know, but how else to explain how things seemed to go a bit sideways?  There were the What If? episodes, that displayed Bucky as the sidekick to Captain Carter.  Those was okay, then he was more of the dark brooding long-hair version of Wakanda Bucky in a zombie wasteland.  At least we got to see a cartoon version of him in the shower, from the waist up.  Wasn't quite enough to quench the fandom's thirst for him but it was a start.  Don't even get me started on the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas special where Nebula appeared with Bucky's vibranium arm, opening a whole can of worms over whether it was funny (not to me), cute (seriously stealing Bucky's arm is cute?) and canon (no, James Gunn, it wasn't canon to me).  Yes, I'm changing the tense in the middle of a paragraph by telling you to don't @ me if you're a believer in any of the three above.  To me, all three of those scenarios were just wrong.  I got emotional then and I still do.

I wrote since then, some AUs, lots of one shots as I explored that format, several short fiction pieces of less than 50,000 words, and a couple of long ones.  It was going well, then they brought out the Captain America 4 announcement that Bucky wouldn't be in it (what?) and the Thunderbolts* announcement that Sam Wilson wouldn't be in that (seriously?).  Why did they get us to invest our time and interest in a six-part series about these two men forging a deep friendship if they had no intention of continuing it in their movies?  The rumours about Bucky in this upcoming movie littered the pages of tumblr and Twitter (sorry / not sorry X); things like Bucky regressed mentally and emotionally, he and Sam had a falling out, he became a congressman, or he went to work for Val de Fontaine so that he didn't lose his pardon. 

Why would they do that to Bucky?  Let the man have a fucking life.  As you could see I got emotional about it.  On that particular day I decided to have a nap and clear my mind, then it all changed.

💤

"Hey, sweetheart."  I could hear the voice, then I felt a cold hand around my waist, reaching up under my T-shirt.  Jerking away and turning around I found myself in bed with Bucky Barnes, beefy Bucky, with the bad haircut shown in the leaked preview of the Thunderbolts*.   "There she is."

He had no shirt on, and I found it hard to look at him, then opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.  I noticed the smirk on his face, which made me feel warm, like really warm, the way the writers of Bucky smut describe it; a warm pool forming in my core, between my thighs, deep in my ....  What happened to me?  Where was I?

"You okay, doll?  You have a nightmare?"  His hand cupped my jaw, as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

"You're Bucky," I said, still frozen in place, because let's face it, it's not everyday you find yourself in bed with your romantic fantasy.

"Last I checked," he answered, licking his lips then running his hand over the beard he grew since he was in FATWS.  "You're my wife."

I pulled away from him, aware that he might not have anything on at all.  He looked at me funny.

"You seem different.  Tell me you're not a multiverse version of you that's been dropped here."

"I don't know," I answered, pulling the sheet up to cover my front since I realized I wasn't wearing a bra, and my nipples were doing something that was a little disconcerting.  "Am I a writer?  Are we married?  Are you working for Val de Fontaine?"

He laughed, showing those beautiful white teeth, then he leaned close, gently pulling down the sheet and began to nuzzle my neck, making me feel all sorts of things.

"No, yes, and no," he answered.  "Come here."

I pulled away so far that I fell out of bed and sat there on the floor with him looking over the edge at me with a decidedly perturbed expression on his face.  With only panties on underneath that T-shirt I pulled on the sheet, so I was covered again.

"What's got into you?"

"What's my name, Bucky?"

"Sweetheart, sunshine, baby girl, darlin' and my personal favourite, doll."  He was resting his head on his hands, looking at me in a way that was definitely more friendly than I was comfortable with.

"Those aren't names, they're terms of endearment," I answered.  "I am married but not to you and you're supposed to be an Avenger, with Sam Wilson."

"Really, just who are you married to and what is your name?" he asked, in a flirting manner.  "Gotta say, sunshine, this role-playing thing could be fun."

I told him my husband's name and my name.  "I shouldn't be part of the multiverse because it's not real.  It's fiction."

He laughed, then saw I wasn't laughing and frowned.  Angry Bucky alert.  "You have to be from the multiverse.  If you're not, where's my wife?  Why do you look and sound like her?"

I raised my hands up.  "I don't know where she is.  I look like her because I write fanfiction of you, and I picture myself in the original female character's role.  She usually becomes your love interest.  But I had writer's block because Marvel has been messing around with your portrayal and not giving out much information of how they've changed your character.  It was bugging me, so I took a nap, then woke up next to you."

"Who's this Marvel guy?  Do you think he knows where my wife is?"

He didn't know about the fourth wall, was definitely angry and all I could think of was that he looked just as angry now as he did in that leaked Thunderbolts* footage.

"Marvel's not a guy, it's a corporation that owns the copyright to your character."  I winced as I explained it to him, knowing he wasn't liking it.  "You're not real, Bucky.  You're a fictional character from the comics and the movies they made from it.  But you know this already.  I've spoken to you in your World War II persona, your Winter Soldier persona and from when you and Sam fought the Flag Smashers.  That's called your FATWS era."

I started to explain what the letters meant but he just glared at me, so I stopped.  He pulled away from the edge of the bed and got out on the other side, naked, and I did stare, I'll admit it.  God, he had a nice ass and the rest of him from the back was... wow.  Then he turned to face me, and I looked everywhere but there. 

"Get dressed," he ordered.  "You're taking me to this Marvel place and I'm going to get my wife back."

"It's not as easy as that," I replied.  He stared at me, his arms crossed defiantly in front of him while he was still showing everything the serum gave him.  I focused on his face, but it was so hard ... not that, you know what I mean.  "If this is a multiverse incursion then there might not be a Marvel in this universe and even if there was it wouldn't be possible to just walk in there.  We have to find Dr. Strange.  He's the only one who can do anything."

"Fine," he said, "but you're still coming with me.  Now get dressed."

Holding the sheet around me I approached the walk-in closet, but he was still standing there, naked, in all of his glory and he smelled so good when I slid past him to see what was available for me to wear.  Then he was right behind me, practically pressing himself into me and I had to focus, wondering if I had ever written this much raw physical sexuality into my versions of Bucky but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close. 

"You having problems, baby girl?" he asked, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath making me moist. 

"I don't know what to wear," I mumbled, still painfully aware of his naked body this close to me and I was really only separated from him by a sheet. 

"We're going on the motorcycle," he said.  "Jeans, T-shirts, and leather jackets."

"Right," I answered, hastily going through the sexy dresses, the long gowns with the thigh-high slits, the almost obscene lingerie, but there were no jeans or T-shirts.  "Um, where are they?"

"In the drawers," he grunted.  "Don't you have drawers in your universe?"

"Yes," I snapped.  "Could you stand further away from me?"

"What's the matter, darlin'? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"This close to me while naked, yes."  I rolled my eyes, which he must have heard because he huffed, but he did move away, and I was able to get out of that small space.

Quickly, I located the drawer that had jeans and pulled them on.  They were tighter than anything I ever wore but somehow, I got them on.  The bra selection left a lot to be desired as most of it was see through and really didn't offer much support.  I must have made a noise while I was searching for something more modest because he was suddenly beside me.

"Having a problem, sweetheart?  Don't see anything you like?  My wife loves all the lingerie I buy for her."

"It's not my style," I answered.  "Doesn't she have something that covers more?"

"Sports bra," he answered.  "Bottom drawer."

I pulled it open, thankful to find an assortment of sports bras.  Pulling one out I started to take the T-shirt off that I woke up in then became aware of his eyes on me.  Turning around I was startled to see him reclining on the bed, propped up on one elbow, fully clothed, with his booted feet hanging off the bed.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind at all," he smirked.  "Don't let me stop you.  I've seen it all anyways."

"But you're married.  Wouldn't watching me get dressed make your wife angry?"

He grinned in an almost wolfish manner.  "We have an understanding."

"What?  The Bucky's I write are monogamous.  Are you polyamorous?"

The grin became a broad smile as he looked me up and down.  "If the occasion arises.  Gotta say I'm curious to see if you have the same appetites as my doll."

"Out!"  I wasn't in the mood for this.  "Right now.  Go downstairs and get your motorcycle ready."

Slowly, he slid off the bed, then approached me, backing me up to the dresser, while looking at me in a way that gave me thrills at the same time as setting off all sorts of warning bells in my head.

"You sure, sunshine?"  His fingertips grasped a tendril of my hair, as he twirled it slightly.  "I could definitely make you ...."

"Out," I repeated.  "Please stop this."

He backed up, suddenly respectful of my space.  "Since you said the magic word, I'll wait downstairs for you."

Just like that, he was gone, and I quickly got the sports bra on, then a clean T-shirt.  I pulled on some socks and found some boots, sliding them on.  With a quick run through of my hair with my fingers I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what I had done to get into this predicament.

He was waiting on his motorcycle for me, with a helmet in hand.  As I stood there, he placed it on my head, adjusting the chin strap then nodding his head in approval, before putting his on.  I slid on behind him, grasping him at the waist.  His voice came over a Bluetooth speaker in the helmet.

"You okay, darlin'?  Have you ridden a motorcycle before?"

"I'm good.  My husband has one and I've ridden with him.  Where are we going?"

"The Sanctum Sanctorum," he said.  "Might as well go straight to Dr. Strange."

Suddenly, we were there, pulling up to an open parking spot in front of the headquarters of the Masters of the Mythical Arts in the middle of Greenwich Village.  This was definitely a unique universe, as we skipped over the long motorcycle ride from Brooklyn, then the frustration of finding any sort of parking.  Striding over to the door, Bucky rang the bell, and we were ushered in by an acolyte to where Dr. Strange was drinking a cup of tea and Wong was standing there wringing his hands.  Before we could even say anything the two men looked at me, then at each other, then at Bucky.

"Where did you find her?" asked Wong.

That wolfish grin briefly appeared again on Bucky's face.  "In my bed.  Says she's not my wife, so where is she?"

"That is a good question," said Strange, placing his teacup on the table and approaching me, assessing me in a way that was a little disturbing.  "Well, this explains a lot.  You're from the real world, aren't you?  Beyond the fourth wall."

"Yes, I guess.  I'm a fanfiction writer and was taking a nap.  When I woke up it was next to him."  I pointed at Bucky.  "The thing is, he's nothing like the Bucky Barnes character that I write about."

"What's different about him?" Strange's one eyebrow was higher than the other.  It was one thing seeing it in the movies but another thing seeing it in person.  "Is there a problem with my face?"

"No, no.  The biggest difference is that the Bucky's I write are monogamous and this one is polyamorous."

"And?  That's a problem?"

I became aware that I was in the middle of all three men, and they were looking at me as if I were lunch, served on a platter just for them.

"Stop!" I barked.  "Yeah, it's a problem, okay?  Is this a polyamorous universe?  Because I'm not!  I'm married to one man, and I want to go back to him.  Please, you must find a way to get me back to where I belong."

Wong backed away from me first.  "She's right.  Consent is still required in this universe.  Plus, with her being from beyond the fourth wall we could really hurt her.  She's actual flesh and blood ... we're fictional characters."

Dr. Strange backed away, returning to his cup of tea.  Bucky, well, he just sprawled on a couch as if he had always lived there.

"Tell me about what you were doing before you slept," said Strange.

I told him about the physical changes to Bucky's appearance based on the leaked preview of Thunderbolts* and how the fandom was worrying about his portrayal, and the fact that after a six part series of him and Sam becoming friends Marvel just casually split them apart into two different movies as if the other didn't even exist. 

"You care about him," said Strange, his voice neutral.  "You want him to be happy."

"Well, yeah," I replied.  "The man lost everything that mattered to him and was tortured for 70 years, experimented on, and forced to become a killer for a gang of authoritarian thugs.  My thing, my contribution to fanfiction is that Bucky gets a happy ending."

"Sweetheart, I have that," said the super soldier, from where he sat on the couch.  "I admit that I am fucked up, but my wife makes me happy and her interest in our extramarital activities is the same as mine.  Yet, you treat me like I'm some sort of deviant."

"No, it's not that."  I sighed.  "Other writers see you in this way and that's fine; that's their thing and lots of people read them and enjoy them but I guess I just like you better when you're monogamous, kind and gentle.  To someone like me, this version of you is a bit scary and overwhelming."

"That's fair," he murmured.  "You look like my wife.  Does your husband look like me?"

"No, not at all," I smiled.  "He's shorter, balding, not as fit.  But he loves me and he's faithful, kind, and gentle.  He beta reads my stories, and I even wrote a Black Widow smut piece just for him.  I think he imagines me as his Black Widow sometimes."

Bucky grinned, then nodded his head approvingly. 

"Do they break the fourth wall in this Thunderbolts* movie?" asked Wong.

"I don't know.  It hasn't come out yet and there's been very few previews of it.  I think the only Marvel character that breaks the fourth wall is Deadpool.  His movie with Wolverine just came out recently and is making a ton of money."

Both Dr. Strange and Wong perked up.  "Deadpool?  As in Wade Wilson?"

I nodded.  "Yeah, he's fully aware in the movies and comic books that he's fictional.  He often breaks the fourth wall."

My voice tapered off.  Was I here because of Deadpool?

"Sunshine, have you seen the movie?" Bucky was also sitting upright.

I nodded my head.  "My husband and I went to see the matinee just a few days ago."

A green glow emanated from the time stone as Dr. Strange went to wherever he went when he activated it.  Wong watched him carefully as did Bucky.  Then the Supreme Sorcerer stopped his permutations and gazed at me.

"The Time Variance Authority are in this movie," he stated.  "I have a feeling they're involved in this.  But why they would take someone from the real world and place them here is a mystery to me."

Suddenly a TVA portal opened in front of us, and B-15 walked out followed by me, at least a version of me, wearing only a T-shirt and panties.  Bucky jumped up from the couch.

"Doll? Is it you?"

"Oh Daddy, I was so afraid," she cried, as he wrapped his arms around her.  "I woke up in a cell and didn't know how I got there, and ...."  She noticed me.  "She's me."

"I'm sorry," said B-15, looking at me.  "A terrible mistake was made.  Beyond the fourth wall is usually forbidden to our hunters but when you went to see the Deadpool movie your presence was noticed in the theatre with your Bucky variant."

"Wait, my husband is a Bucky variant?"

The leader of the TVA smiled.  "Well, yes.  It's why you write Bucky Barnes fanfiction.  You see him as Bucky and yourself as the original female character.  You don't have to look alike to be a variant.  It's just that you're kind of the model for the OFC in your own universe where you draw your inspiration from.  It's supposed to be a private universe and off limits to the TVA.  Unfortunately, one of our hunters didn't understand that.  He removed Mrs. Barnes here as an illegal variant and installed you as the original in this universe.  He has been sent for judgement and won't be in a position to do that again.  We are also making sure all of our hunters are aware that the Bucky Barnes fanfiction that you write and read in your own private universe is just that, private, at least to us."

"So how do we get this Mrs. Barnes back to her universe beyond the fourth wall?" asked Dr. Strange.  "I have the feeling it's beyond my capabilities."

B-15 smiled at him.  "It is but not beyond mine.  As soon as she's ready to go I'll open a portal back to her universe."

It sounded simple and like many movies, a little bit of a quick fix, but I wanted to go back so I wasn't going to question it.  Wong smiled at me.

"Good luck on the next one shot," he said.

I nodded at him, then Dr. Strange looked at me in that superior way he sometimes had.  "I knew there would be a logical solution."

"Right."

Bucky was next, his wife already wearing his leather jacket.

"Oh, this is yours," I said, starting to take the one I had off. 

"Keep it sweetheart, as a souvenir," he smirked.  "Say hi to your husband for me.  Tell me something.  The lady there said something about the fiction you read.  Does that mean you do read the polyamorous stuff, since you ended up in my bed?"

I sighed as I hated being put in a position of agreeing.  "Every so often one captures my eye," I admitted.  "Doesn't mean it's something I'm interested in trying."

"If you say so."  He glanced at his wife with affection.  "You came through for me.  I appreciate it."

I looked at B-15.  "I'm ready."

She nodded at the others, then punched a few buttons on her TemPad.  A portal opened and I walked through it, then felt the touch of my husband's hand on my shoulder as I was still on top of the bed.

"Honey?  Wake up."

I sat up, saw my husband, and felt a rush of affection for him.

"Sorry, I took a nap, and I guess I was more tired than what I thought."

"No worries," he smiled.  "Um, did you go shopping today?  Is that a new jacket and jeans and boots?"

I was still in the other Mrs. Barnes' clothing.

"Yes?" I answered, tentatively.

He smiled and nodded his head appreciatively.  "I like them.  Makes you look hot.  You should wear stuff like that more often."  Offering me his hand, he helped me up.  "What do you think of taking a ride on the bike and going to a diner for dinner?  My treat."

"Sounds like a plan," I answered.  "Just let me freshen up a little."

When I got outside my husband was already waiting on his Vespa.  I know what you're thinking ... a Vespa is not a motorcycle.  Maybe not in the traditional sense but it is what we have and it's a lot of fun.  I still get to wrap my arms around my husband's waist and maybe he doesn't have a hard body like Bucky Barnes, but he's all mine and I don't have to share him with anyone.  Besides, now that I know he's a Bucky variant I understand how he knows what I like between the sheets, if you get what I mean.  When I do write smut, I'm writing about my Bucky, the one I live with in this universe, beyond the fourth wall.

One Shots Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[abarbaricyalp]

⚔️

⚔️: Hidden weapons Omg I've been meaning to write a fic like this for ages. Thank you for the prompt and nudge! I'm very sorry too. I don't know what this is lol

The first time Sam kissed another boy, he was eighteen years old and it was mid-October his senior year of high school and he'd just scored four unanswered shots around Jay in a one-on-one pickup game after school. He and Jay weren't friends, exactly. They were too competitive for that. Competitive in the classroom. Competitive on the court or the track or the field. Competitive in extra-curricular debate competitions from the Civics class they all had to participate in.

That fourth layup, while Sam was bouncing backwards to get the ball while taunting Jay at the same time, had broken something between them in the silent gym. Jay had hauled him up against the padding on the wall and kissed the daylights out of Sam.

Sam had had a lot of good kisses since then. He'd had hundreds with the love of his life and every one of those was special. But, still, there was something about that first kiss that had never been replicated.

Not until Sam was 36 years old (well, hell, that was a whole nother lifetime wasn't it?) and he was the one hauling a smug asshole up against a wall.

Bucky Barnes kissed like he knew he was good at it and like he never wanted to stop getting better. And, Jesus, had his hands always been that big? They felt like they covered Sam's entire waist, up and down and front to back.

"That a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me, Wilson?" Barnes leered, head leaned back against the wall of a shitty little hotel room that Sam had tracked him down to. Based on the way Barnes was grinning, Sam was beginning to suspect it was less that he'd tracked Bucky and more that he'd been lured here.

Sam reached beneath his waistband and watched Bucky's pupils blow wide with desire. He pulled out a large Bowie type knife and stabbed it into the wall beside Barnes's head. "It's a knife," he said. "Don't flatter yourself."

Bucky had turned his head to watch the knife and now trailed his eyes along the shaft of it, the line of the handle, back to Sam's face. Impossibly, his eyes were even darker now. "That was so fucking hot, I almost came without you even touching me."

"That'd be a shame," Sam pointed out.

"Nah," Barnes said with a shrug. "I'd come right back, what with you in front of me? I've been waiting for this a long time."

"You didn't even know your name six months ago."

"Nah, but I knew what you looked like."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the assassin in front of him. "How is this the first part of your personality that you remember?"

"Good inspiration. Now, come on, take your clothes off."

In an instant, he had them flipped, Sam against the wall and Bucky with all the free space of the shitty room to his back. He sank down to his knees and, yeah, alright, Sam's brain fuzzed out for a second. When he came back online, Bucky was pulling a knife from an ankle holster.

"You wear this all the time, or do you just get dressed up for me?" Bucky asked, looking up at Sam with bright eyes beneath dark lashes and dark hair he kept flipping out of his face.

"You're not that special," Sam lied. "Just like all the other assholes I've been having to deal with recently."

Bucky grinned. "Now, don't go mentioning all your other guys. Gonna make me jealous, Sammy."

He sat up a little, undoing Sam's jeans the rest of the way and pulling them down. His tac belt fell against his hips heavily. Bucky genuinely licked his lips as he examined it.

"This one I know is for me," he said, then put his mouth right above the holster wrapped around Sam's thigh, the one the bigger knife had been in. Sam's hips jerked forward into Bucky's face. It just made Bucky flatten his tongue against the inside of Sam's thigh and drag his tongue up until he hit the edge of Sam's jockstrap. "And this one too. You're a boxers guy normally, aren't you?"

"You go commando?" Sam taunted. Taunted? Was that really taunting? Unfortunately, Sam's brain was slow to come back to its sharp edges while Bucky kept putting his tongue to Sam's thigh.

"I like a breeze. The leather gets oppressive, y'know."

"You're so stupid," Sam breathed, dropping his head against the wall. He pushed his fingers through Bucky's hair, down his neck, and to the collar of his shirt. "Wait, do you have..." He slipped his hand beneath the shoulder of Bucky's shirt and pulled free a gun from one side, then the other. "You were going to a farmer's market!"

"You were following me to a farmer's market," Bucky pointed out, and then reached down for the gun on the other side of Sam's ankle holster without looking.

Sam moved his hand to the middle of the shoulder harness and pulled a long blade free from a sheath that ran down Bucky's back. Bucky shivered and pressed his face to the taut expanse of skin between Sam's hips, mouthing over his tac belt.

He methodically disarmed Sam, sliding cartridges and knives and mace from each pouch and hook and elastic slot. Normally, Sam wouldn't wear so much. However, chasing an assassin who had been toying with him for months had made a man paranoid and irritated.

And now incredibly horny.

"Barnes," he said lowly, as Bucky trailed the tip of a long bullet along Sam's abdomen in nonsense patterns that made everything in Sam spark white hot. When the tip of Bucky's tongue moved to follow the trail, he forgot what he was warning about. His fingers tightened in Bucky's hair and he yanked on it once, sharply.

And then Bucky really got to work.

. . .

Sam didn't have any illusions about working so quietly that he hadn't alerted the super soldier in the bed. He'd accepted that Bucky was just ignoring him as he got dressed. Fair enough. This was Bucky's shitty room, not Sam's. Bucky could pretend to sleep all day if he wanted to.

He'd already finished getting into his jeans and kicking his shoes on when he realized his belt was missing. Bucky had taken it off with his teeth, so it's not like it exactly got thrown across the room.

"Come here," Bucky said, voice all rumbled and grouchy.

Sam turned, found him sitting on the side of the bed with hair that was half controlled, and Sam's tac belt in his hands. Sam's eyes narrowed, but he cautiously closed the distance between them again, stepping between Bucky's broad thighs and willing himself not to get distracted. It didn't work.

"Why don't you put it through your belt loops?" Bucky asked.

He had to lean forward, cheek coming to rest against Sam's ribs briefly as he passed one edge of the belt to his other hand behind Sam. He didn't get much further away as he hooked the inner belt against Sam's skin. His knuckles kept brushing over Sam's stomach, over a hickey Bucky had put there half an hour before, as he worked the hook through the right holes.

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. Easier to get off when I need to this way," he supposed. He missed it when Bucky's touch left him.

Bucky continued on to fasten the outer belt, keeping it tight enough to hold everything in place. "Easier to disarm you too," he pointed out.

"It's double layered. Someone would have to be tryin' real hard to get it off of me from real close."

"I did it," Bucky pointed out. Sam wasn't sure how to take it until Bucky flashed those baby blues and a grin up at him.

"I let you," Sam corrected. He stepped away from Bucky so he could collected his weapons instead.

But Bucky was there as soon as he tried to reinstall everything. He took the cartridges from Sam and slid them back into place, then the mace, then the handful of knives Sam kept on him. He even passed over the knife and gun from Sam's ankle holster.

"Did I miss any?" he asked. "I mean, I got you naked, so I assume not."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Well, you know what they say about assuming." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket knife. "I literally used this one in a fight with you already."

"Not with me," Bucky objected. "Handlers are morons. Don't pin that on me."

"You took my pants off and didn't notice."

Bucky shrugged. "I might've been a little distracted. Not every day a hot guy bursts into your room and slams you against the wall, y'know?"

Sam flipped the closed knife between his fingers and walked Bucky back against the nearest wall. Bucky lit up like a sunrise and opened right up to Sam, going pliant and easy. "I might come around and do it again," he threatened/promised.

"Please do," Bucky agreed. "The new age was starting to get boring."

Sam trailed his fingers, and the cool shell of his knife, along Bucky's side, from his hip up to his ribs, and then reached past him to drop his knife into the pocket of Bucky's coat tossed over the dresser.

"Give me a good reason," he tempted.

Bucky hauled him back to the bed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Everywhere You Go

Warnings: this fic includes implied noncon and coercion, mentions of crime and abuse, and explicit sexual content. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The day your husband is released from prison is the day it all falls apart.

Characters: Mob!Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

Note: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty​ Week One Writer’s Activity. My prompts were Isolation + Mafia. I included all three items.

So I kinda tried something new... let me know what you think.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like the boys love milkshakes. Take care. 💖

The screen flicks to black. You stand with your arm outstretched, remote still aimed at the television. Your heart drums behind your ears as the banner sticks in your vision. ‘Stark released on mistrial’. 

The remote slips from your fingers as your arm drops to your side. It’s like you can see the air around you, feel it suffocating you as you breathe it in, as if you’re wading through muck. You turn and lean against the armrest of the sectional, hanging your head as you try to stop the spinning sensation.

You steady yourself and stand straight. You look down at the tremble in your hands. That you can’t stop. You go to the window and look out at the fading yellow grass and the peeling wood fence. This is supposed to be the end. It is supposed to be safe.

You tug the curtains shut and turn to lean against the wall. You hug yourself and stare at the rug’s edge, the slightly fraying fabric trims the worn wooden boards. You shudder and sink down to the floor, hiding your face in your hands.

“Girl like you deserves diamonds,” Tony’s fingers tickles your collar bone as he plays with the circle cut diamond, a weight reminder of his hold on you. “And every guy who looks at you, deserves to know who you belong to…”

Goosebumps rise as the shadow of his touch brushes over you with the breeze that slips in the open window. Your teeth chatter though it’s barely cold enough to be anything more than balmy. You drag your fingers down to your neck to make sure there’s nothing there. No necklace, no collar, no leash.

He’s gone. He doesn’t know where you are. You made sure of it. But that was when he was behind bars. 

You can never be safe so long as he’s free.

A week passes without occurrence, assuring you that your paranoia got the best of you. The idea of Tony getting out is hardly comforting but you’re safe. You’re protected. You’re not alone.

You go about your usual routine. A breakfast of fruit and steel cut oats, a cup of espresso with a hint of cream. You watch the birds hop over the top of the fence and the bees buzzing around the dandelions.

You have walls, you have food, you aren’t in pain. You’re safe. You keep reciting that fact like a mantra. Safe. The word becomes gibberish the more you think it.

You retreat and rinse out the small cup and set it on the rack to drip dry. A simple existence. It’s all you ever longed for in that lonely house, adorned in gems, stuck in his trap. You never wanted any of that. Not even him.

You take the basket from beside the front door and pull it open, the warmth of the sunshine fading away as you stop short on the threshold. You look down at the long stems wrapped in a white bow. The peachy orange is the same shade as those you held on your wedding day. The basket blows out of your hand with the sudden gust that surrounds you.

You stare down between your feet at the dainty petals. It can’t be. Here? 

You look out over the meadows, sprawling, lush, and green. Nothing but the ripple of the wind as it blows over the tall blades. You step back, leaving the basket to roll away and the flowers where they met you. You shut the door and lean on it, a hand on the wood as your heart hammers.

You need to leave. Now.

“Flowers,” Agent Rogers bends to scoop up the bouquet, “really?”

“It’s not a coincidence,” you insist, “I know I sound crazy but I also know Tony. Better than anyone. You know that too.”

“I can’t exactly tell the higher ups that you got some flowers. It’s not exactly grounds for relocation,” he turns the bunch in his hand and examines the white ribbon.

“Right,” you say, deflated, “but– you have everything. Go back in the evidence, check the wedding photos. Rosa Independence. A twisted joke, I know. He said he liked the colour.”

“The more I learn about the guy, the more I hate him,” he pushes his golden hair back and drops his hand, pulling back his sleeve to look at his watch, “gotta call it in. Probably won’t have a decision right away.”

You nod, uneasily shifting on your feet. You don’t know how long you have to get away. Maybe you’ll have to do it without him. Pack a bag and just go. Wherever you can.

“I’ll see if I can stay. Standard security procedure. No reason for us to take this too lightly,” he lays the flowers across the oak table that play centerpiece to the front room, “no one should know you’re up here. So, even if they’re not your husband’s attempt at reconciliation, they’re a very pointed statement.”

“Thank you, Agent Rogers,” you say breathily, “I’m sorry.”

“Doing my job, nothing to be sorry about,” he says as he pulls out his phone.

You give a half-hearted smile before he strides out. You sit inside as his low tones waft in but you can’t make out the words. You can’t focus enough to try as the curling orange petals mock you.

“I’ve been waitin’ all day for this, sweetheart,” Tony purrs into your neck as you feel the thorn stems catch on your dress. He leans you over the suede car seat as he nuzzles your throat and nips. Not even halfway to the reception and he’s got your veil askew, your skirt hiked up past your thighs. “I’m gonna fuck you just like this, every day for the rest of our lives.”

The door hits the frame and draws you back to the present. Agent Rogers tucks his phone into his jacket, “looks like I’m posting up here for the night.”

You nod, speechless as the memory lingers in the back of your head. You stand and cross the room, refusing to look at the table.

“Please, can you throw those away?” You eke out.

He’s quiet. You turn your head and watch from your peripheral as he nears the table and lifts the bouquet, the petals rustling softly. He looks at them and puts them to his nose.

“Sure,” he answers at last as he retreats with the long stems, “never understood why roses were seen as romantic. Too many thorns.”

“Kinda like marriage,” you scoff as you face him again, “thank you, Agent.”

“I’m gonna be here a while. Steve is just fine.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Steve says as you stare at the side mirror, watching the sun fade behind you.

“Yeah,” you say mindlessly and shift in your seat, “I’m sor–”

“Stop it,” he admonishes as he adjusts the air conditioner, “you’re sorry cause what? I chose to be in WITSEC as much as they chose me. I knew what I was getting into.”

“I know but I–” you swallow and rub your throat as it bobs, “I guess I’m sorry for a lot of things. I lived a long time with a man who took without thinking. By proxy, I did the same. I… was too afraid to do anything but let him.”

“The mistrial wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“It’s not. It’s the f– the bought and paid for judge sitting on the bench. You know Stark, he’s got hands in everyone’s pockets.”

“I know, but… I shoulda known better.”

“You did what you had to. That’s all we can ever do,” Steve says, “why don’t you turn on some music, gonna be a long ride.”

You clamp your lips shut and reach forward to flick on the stereo. You flip through the curated stations until you find a retro pop channel. No chance of AC/DC. His favourite.

You sit back and lean your elbow on the door and cradle your forehead. The skyline blurs by as you try not to think. That never works. It’s impossible. He’s always there, looming in the back of your mind. Just like he had for all those years.

“Must be hard,” you sit up, “doing what you do and having a family. I can’t imagine…”

He’s quiet as his eyes focus through the windshield and he switches lanes. His grip loosens on the wheel as he smoothly evens out. “Easy, actually, I don’t got a family.”

“Oh, well…”

“Don’t you feel sorry for me. I know you don’t have anyone either. I mean, I got friends, at least.”

You sniff and fold your hands in your lap. It was only ever Tony. You weren’t allowed to have friends. Friends were dangerous. Friends talked. He wasn’t stupid. Everyone was just playing politics, trying to take his throne. Did he ever suspect his own wife would turn him in to the DEA?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve says as Cher’s voice drones sonorously from the speakers, “I mean, I… I guess I don’t know what I meant. I see all the guys I work with, they got wives they leave at home, births they miss, family dinners they’re never home for. I just don’t want all that. I don’t want anyone to let down.”

“Fair,” you rub your upper arm as you glance at the rearview. For a moment, your eyes meet, placid but warm blue irises with a tint of green, “and I know you didn’t mean anything. I chose my path too. Tried to, in the end.”

It’s late. You’re restless. Like any night since the day you saw your ex on the news walking out of the courthouse. More so since you came to this new safehouse.

Maybe it’s the unusualness of having company or maybe it’s the circumstance. You’re hiding, as good as running from your husband. You knew you always would but it just feels so futile. Like you can’t get far enough away. Like there’s nothing that can hold him back, not a cell or the justice system.

It was like he always said, Tony Stark always finds a way.

You flip on the lamp as you enter the living room. The small apartment is unremarkable. You suspect that’s deliberate. 

The blinds are always done and not much sunlight gets in. The place is a dour and grim contrast to your former abode. You miss the freedom of the fields and the optimism of the skies. Even if you had neither, the illusion was there.

You take the novel from beside the base of the lamp where you left it. You notice the spine is bent in a new place. You examine the curling corner of the cover, your bookmark exactly how you left it.

“Interesting story,” Steve says as he enters.

You pop your head up in surprise and rest the book against the edge of the table. Your coexistence grows easier by the day, the week, nearly a month now. His presence is comforting. If he left, you’re not sure you would stay. He kept your fear from getting the best of you.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you let go of the book and face him.

“I was awake,” he gives a slanted grin, “I was just sneaking out to… grab a book.”

“This one,” you push your fingertip to the cover. He nods guiltily.

You look over at the shelf against the wall. He follows your gaze and scoffs.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “but none of those are holding my attention.”

You turn back to him. He’s in nothing but a pair of grey joggers, unabashed as the vee of his pelvis peeks out above the elastic and his muscular torso tempts your eyes. You focus on his face and grasp the book, sliding it off the table. You cross to him.

“All yours,” you hold it up to him, “I’m too tired to read.”

He gently brushes his hand over yours and takes the book. He’s close. Very close. You can smell his sweat beneath the dissolving layer of deodorant. You can even feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Night,” you catch a yawn in your palm and go to sidle past him.

“I could… read to you. I think I’m a bit behind but if you don’t mind a bit of backtracking–”

You look him in the eye, amused by the suggestion. He wants to read to you, like a child?

“You can close your eyes, listen,” he suggests, “might help you sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that, Steve, but I appreciate it.”

He nods and averts his eyes. His cheek ticks, “I… would you mind humouring me? I don’t know, this place, I can hear everything. I just need something to distract me.”

You smile, a small expression of commiseration. 

“Sure, I… I think I need that too.”

You don’t know how it happened. The gasp that escapes you is as much from the realisation as the pleasure of the situation. Steve’s tongue glides up between your folds as you arch your backs, the sheets twisted around your body as you writhe. You bring your thighs up, clamping them on either side of his head as he coaxes to his whim.

Just like any other night, you sat beside him and listened to him read. Nothing very riveting, a novel about a man on the run. You slumped against his shoulder and his hand rested on your thigh before you succumbed to the tension. You didn’t think, you just did.

And there you are, puffing and whining as this man covets your body. As his hands explore your thighs and hips, gripping, groping, kneading, feeling everything with intense admiration. Your fingers twine into his golden hair, urging him deeper.

It’s been far too long since you felt affection. Well before your husband. The intimacy is nearly overwhelming, nestling along your eyelids and threatening to overflow as you bask in the fiery warmth. A man, this man, touches you like you are a true treasure. He doesn’t drag, and fling, and bend you like a toy.

You tug on his silky locks, moaning his name as he follows your desperate motion. His wet lips graze your stomach, smearing between your tits as he lifts himself over you. He hovers above you, his breath sweet with your flavour. You frame his face between your hands.

“Make love to me,” you beg, a ridiculous statement from a ridiculous dime store romance. But there’s no other way to say it. You want to be loved, not flaunted, not used, “please, Steve, I need–”

He crashes his lips into yours, humming as he swallows up your words. You feel his need, his desire, the same desperation coursing through him. You sling your arms around his neck and welcome him in. Even if it’s only convenient, you want to feel him. You want to feel everything he makes you feel.

For once, you get to choose what you want.

“Steve,” you croak as he opens the car door, shoving you in as the streets like gleam in your eyes, “where–”

“Be quiet and get in,” he orders as he ushers you into the seat.

The door snaps before you can say anything else. He quickly moves around the hood and gets in the driver’s side. He turns the key and the engine rolls over. He says nothing as he backs out, his hand on your headrest as he cranes to squint behind him.

He veers out of the lot and onto the street. You buckle your belt just before you can slide forward into the dash. You brace the door as he slows and steers neatly into a lane. You wipe the sleep from your eyes.

He sighs and pushes his head back, “we stayed too long… we… we were stupid.”

“Steve,” you sniff, “I know but…”

“It was nice,” he admits, “it really was but– Fuck, I could lose my job.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I never should’ve–”

“I made the first move,” he clucks, “please, it’s my own fault. I just wanted it to last forever.”

Your silent as your vision blurs and you look out onto the street, the tall lightpoles bleary as your tears obscure them, “me too.”

“North. There’s a safehouse. That’s where they’re sending us. You.”

“What? Are you… are you leaving?”

“I have to. Orders. Procedure. I have to hand you off to a new agent.”

“Oh,” your chest pits and you hug yourself, “so this is goodbye?”

He frowns as yellow light flashes through the windows and illuminates his features. He grips the wheel and exhales heavily. His cheek dimples as he nods.

“We have leave to stop at a motel north of Cherrywood. We’ll say goodbye there.”

Steve takes the backroads. The trip is both slow and too fast. The end draws closer and closer with an inevitability that makes your heart ache. You don’t love Steve but you’ll miss his easy confidence and his warmth.

You don’t say much as the wheels roll on. You don’t know what to say. Your respite at the hotel only left you feeling worse. All you were losing was left back in that rented room. All that you’ll never know again. You know as well as Steve that this is a one way trip.

“Wilson’s a good guy,” he breaks the silence, “nice. Easy to talk to.”

He’s not you. The thought stays where it belongs as you lean your chin in your hand, “I’m sure.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“Mhmm,” you sit back and cross your arms, “where am I going?”

“Another safe house, I’d think. The less people know the better, right? That’s the order of things.”

“For how long?”

He shrugs. You scratch your neck as you stretch it. You’ve been in that damn car so long, every part of you feels compressed. You square your shoulders wide and push your legs out as far as they’ll go.

He falls back into his former lull, following the winding road between the dense crowd of evergreen. It’s oddly desolate. Even in daylight, the trunks are shrouded in blackness. You watch the passing of the great sentinels as they blur into each other, errant branches on the forest floor and twigs littered at the edge of the road.

You’re drawn from your mournful rumination of what you’re leaving behind and the mounting dread of what comes next. You look up as the tires slow and you see a dark vehicle ahead, at the dip of the next valley. Steve eases onto the brake as he pulls up, a man against the hood of an SUV waits in a dark blue jacket and sunglasses.

You look over at Steve. He gives a nod then glances back through the windshield, “Wilson.”

He doesn’t wait for you as he climbs out. You follow only after a minute, trying to gather a semblance of calm. You’ve done it before. You did it for years on Tony’s arm. You can do it again. Everything is fine. You’re fine.

“Well, here she is,” Steve announces.

“‘Bout time. I’m pretty sure I saw a bear waiting on your ass,” the other man, Wilson, comments.

Steve looks back as you linger by the car and waves for you to come forward. Reluctantly you drag your feet across the cracked tarmac. The other man flips up his sunglasses and considers you from head to toe.

“All yours,” Steve says coolly. His indifference stings. He’s acting, he has to.

The other man pushes away from the front of his car and nears you. You wince in surprise as he reaches to your belt. Before you can react, he has your hand and hooks a leather cuff around your wrists. He tightens the buckle and you try to pull away from him.

He jars you with a mean yank and twists your arm behind you. As he fumbles to secure your other wrist, you whimper, “Steve.”

Steve raises his chin, the sunlight reflecting in his crystal blue eyes. He turns to you and smirks, “that’s Agent Rogers.”

“What’s going on?” You struggle as Wilson latches onto the link between the cuffs.

“Protective custody,” Steve declares as he comes closer. You frown as you bat your eyes, an icy dagger sinking into your chest with each step, “doll, it was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”

The room is freezing. You don’t expect any different. It’s one of his warehouses. Wilson brought you there, left you on that metal chair, cuffs hooked around a bar along the back, one on each ankle, binding them to the legs. You shiver and drop your head, waiting.

You knew. You knew all along. From the day you walked into the police station. It could never work. You could never escape Tony Stark. He can buy anyone; you, Steve, Wilson…

A metal door rolls open loudly and clangs back into place. Footsteps echo across the concrete. As you raise your head, a shadow appears in the dim of the large door frame. A bulb above you hangs on wire, casting a sobering hue over you.

Tony steps into the umbrella of light and you sit back, raising your chin defiantly. It never does much to pout, to play nice. It’s too late for that now. You both know what you did.

He stops in front of you, pushing the bottom of his jacket back to rest his hand on his pistol. You watch the movement, thumb brushing along the butt. You take a breath, ready.

“Hi, Tony,” you look him in the eye.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he steps closer and brings his other hand up to cradle your jaw, pushing your head higher, “I missed ya.”

You laugh sharply, “missed you too.”

“You know, a man goes away for three years and finally gets free. He’s lookin’ forward to coming home to a warm bed, a warm woman,” his thumb caresses along your cheek, “then he finds his house as empty as his cell.”

“Let’s not do this,” you say, “get it over with.”

He tilts his head and his mouth slants. He sucks his teeth as his eyebrows rise in resignation. He sighs as he toys with your lower lip. You feel him tugging at his belt and brace yourself. You wait, expecting the kiss of the hard barrel against your temple.

A cold metal blade slides down the top of your shirt and slices through the fabric. Tony pulls back as he cuts to the hem, the fabric falling open. You cringe and turn your face away. He rescinds the knife and spins it in his hand.

“Honey, you’re home,” he says, “and we got some catching up to do.”

[swan-of-sunrise]

A Night on the Town

Summary: Steve and (Y/N)’s first date, as told through the eyes of an extremely nervous ninety-seven year old super-soldier and a lovestruck historical-fiction novelist.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! Today, we'll be getting a little look at Steve and Booksmart's first date after the Battle of Sokovia but before the last chapter of Age of Ultron, and I'll warn you now that there's so much freaking fluff in this one-shot! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

A Night on the Town May 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

Ever since taking the super-soldier serum in 1943, Steve Rogers had grown accustom to dangerous battles filled with death-defying stunts and adrenaline-inducing action. He almost never experienced pre-battle jitters and now that he was cementing himself in the twenty-first century alongside a team of other similarly super-powered people, he knew that there was no need to be nervous with his fellow Avengers fighting at his side, no matter if they were battling aliens from the opposite end of space or murderous androids controlled by artificial-intelligence. But as he parked his motorcycle on the street in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house, Steve’s heart pounded in his chest and after switching off the engine, he was forced to wipe his clammy hands off on his dark jeans.

“It’s just a date, Rogers…” He reassured himself, getting off the motorcycle and reaching into the back compartment to retrieve the bouquet of pink roses he’d carefully picked out for (Y/N). “A date with a woman who’s completely and utterly out of your league.” When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, he nudged the compartment closed and withdrew the device to see who was texting him on his day off, only to heave a sigh when he saw that it was Natasha.

Nat: Go get her, super-soldier 😉

Nat: You’d better give me all the tea tomorrow, or else I’ll decorate your shield with stickers.

Nat: Have fun!

“What the hell does ‘the tea’ mean…?” Steve murmured to himself as he shook his head at the spy’s eccentricities and tucked the phone back into his pocket. He took a moment to make sure that the roses hadn’t begun to wilt on the drive over and when he was satisfied with their appearance, he made his way up the driveway by the familiar yellow Volkswagen Bug and stepped onto the porch; nervously swallowing and wincing at how dry his throat had become, Steve ran a hand through his hair before pressing the doorbell and taking a step back, a smile making its way onto his face despite the anxiety fluttering away in his stomach.

Moments later, the door swung open to reveal (Y/N) and the breath was instantly knocked out of his lungs at the stunning sight. The historical-fiction novelist was dressed in an off-the-shoulder green blouse, short black jean skirt, sheer black tights and dark brown ankle boots, and her (Y/H/C) hair was fixed in the same intricate style she’d worn to the party at the Avengers Tower. Silver hoop earrings and a delicate book-shaped pendant accentuated the graceful slope of her neck, and her subtle touches of makeup brought out the sparkle in her (Y/E/C) eyes. While Steve stared in stunned disbelief, the hints of apprehension written across (Y/N)’s face melted away into a sweet, red-hued smile that he couldn’t help but return tenfold. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, (Y/N). You…You look so beautiful.” The historical-fiction novelist mumbled a bashful word of thanks and Steve held the bouquet out for her to take. “These are for you. I, um, I remember you saying in one of your emails that pink roses were your favorite.”

(Y/N) beamed as she accepted the bouquet of roses and took in their sweet-smelling scent. “They’re stunning, Steve, thank you! Let me just put these in some water-”

“I’ve got it, Booksmart.” A smirking Sam appeared at the doorway with his roommate’s purse in his hands, swapping her for the bouquet and giving Steve a look of exaggerated sternness. “Good to see you, Cap. So, you two’ve got a fun night planned; you’re gonna have her home at a respectful time, right?”

“Hi, Sam. I-”

“You don’t have to answer him, Steve, he’s just being a smart-ass.” After flashing Steve a smile, (Y/N) shot her best friend a glare and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday night than annoy us, Birdbrain?”

Sam dramatically sighed and shook his head. “Sadly, not all of us are lucky enough to snag a date with a super-soldier, but I might meet up with Nat later and go to that new bar that just opened downtown. You two have fun, but not too much fun!”

They stepped down off the porch and made their way down the driveway to Steve’s motorcycle, and (Y/N) waited until the front door closed behind Sam to heave an exasperated sigh. “He’s a real character, isn’t he?”

“He’s certainly one of a kind, that’s for sure.” They both chuckled as he reached into his bike’s back compartment and withdrew the spare helmet. “I haven’t been out to very many restaurants here in D.C., so I was hoping that you’d know of a good one we can eat at tonight. Whatever you’d like, I’m game.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up in excitement as she fastened the helmet’s strap under her chin. “In that case, there’s a great food truck downtown that serves, hands-down, the best Mexican food. How does that sound?”

Steve straddled the motorcycle and waited for the historical-fiction novelist to lower herself onto the seat behind him before switching the engine on. “I’ve never had Mexican food, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

“Trust me, you’re going to love it!” She exclaimed over the engine’s rumbling, and Steve smiled a little to himself when he felt her arms wrap around his waist. “1560 Wilson Boulevard, you can’t miss it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve shot her a teasing grin over his shoulder and reveled in the feeling of her arms tightening around him as he peeled away from the curb and sped down the street.

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

Seated side-by-side on a brick planter box a little ways away from Pa’ Tortas El Papi’s bustling food truck, (Y/N) and Steve enjoyed their plates of street tacos and ice-cold Coca-Cola’s and fell into easy conversation as Tejano music played in the foreground and string lights twinkled in the tree branches above. (Y/N) was pleased and a little relieved when Steve told her how delicious their dinner was, knowing how different Mexican food was to the super-soldier’s usual cuisine, and there was a proud grin on her face as she watched him eagerly finish his second plate of tacos and regaled him with stories of her many trips to the food truck with Sam. With Steve, (Y/N) felt completely at ease and all of her worries – about the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, about the legalities surrounding her breached studio contract, about Ultron’s defeat – were put out of her mind by the super-soldier’s comforting and near-addictive presence.

“I like this song,” Steve stated after they’d lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of them enjoying the last of their sodas while they people-watched from their secluded planter box. “It has a nice melody.”

“‘Amor Prohibido,’ released as a single in 1994 from the album of the same name and sung by the incomparable Selena Quintanilla…or just Selena, if you prefer, sort of like Beyoncé or Cher. It’s about forbidden love and wanting to be with someone despite everyone else’s misgivings about their relationship.” When (Y/N) glanced up from her empty glass bottle and caught sight of the awestruck expression on the super-soldier’s face, she felt her own face begin to warm in embarrassment and she awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. “Anyway, it’s a very good song…one of my favorites of hers, actually.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head in amazement. “Sometimes I forget just how knowledgeable you are when it comes to music, and then you go and knock me onto my ass with a pitch-perfect summation of a random song’s background and details. It sounds cliché, but I don’t know any other word to call it other than incredible, (Y/N).” His azure eyes were shining as he spoke, and (Y/N) knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he meant every word he uttered; her lips curved into a smile before she wordlessly pressed a kiss onto the smooth skin of his cheek and scooted closer to lean her head on his shoulder, smiling even more when she felt his large hand gently wrap itself around hers. “My Spanish is a little rusty, but I’ll bet that there’s a music expert around here that could translate some of it for me.”

“‘Aquí solo importa nuestro amor, te quiero…’” (Y/N) quietly sang along to the impassioned tune and gave Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze as she translated. “‘All that matters here is our love, I love you…’”

Although they’d finally confessed their love for one another just two weeks prior, saying those three simple words aloud again sent a warm tingle throughout (Y/N)’s body, and she was reminded of the super-soldier’s breathtaking grin and the feel of his soft lips caressing hers as they stood in the deserted hangar of the old S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier.

Instead of replying, Steve simply closed his eyes and hummed along to the melody of the song as a light blush dusted over his cheeks, and (Y/N) seized the rare opportunity to study her distracted date; his handsome face was fully free of the guarded expression he’d continuously worn when they first met, making him appear younger and resemble the ninety-five pound man he’d always been before his recruitment into Project Rebirth, and her heart warmed in her chest when she realized her role in helping him open up and slowly but surely join a world that he once believed that he would never belong in. Not many people are lucky enough to see the man behind the shield, (Y/N) thought as she rested her head back on Steve’s shoulder and smiled to herself, but right now I feel like I’m the luckiest person alive.

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

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc, uh, are you tellin’ me you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”

“The way I see it, if you’re gonna built a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?”

The auditorium echoed with chuckles of amusement at Doc Brown’s reply and while the time traveling car suddenly blazed its way back onto the screen, Steve bit his lip to hide his disbelief from (Y/N), who was engrossed in the ongoing film right beside him. When he picked a 30th Anniversary screening of Back to the Future for his and (Y/N)’s first date, it hadn’t occurred to him that it was a film revolving around time travel, and the irony of being a man out of time taking his incredibly modern girlfriend to see it was definitely not lost on him. It was a fun film that took a more science-fiction route in regard to the time travel aspect – and as someone who’d gone from 1945 to 2012 in the blink of an eye, it was a nice change of pace seeing someone go from present day to being a fish out of water in the past – but Steve started to feel slightly uncomfortable when the high school-aged George McFly was introduced.

Unsurprisingly, Steve was the furthest thing from popular in high school; he was short, skinny and interested in art and the few girls who’d acknowledge his presence were only interested in fishing for a date with Bucky. The only real difference between him and George McFly was that, despite his abysmal success rate, he always fought back against his bullies instead of cowering from confrontation like George. However, it was George’s infatuation with Lorraine that struck Steve; like him, the high-schooler was hopeless with girls and had a difficult time expressing himself around his crush, something that Steve still struggled with over eighty years later. It had taken nothing short of a world-ending threat for Steve to finally confess his love to (Y/N) and when the adrenaline of the Battle of Sokovia finally wore off, so too did his forwardness.

Bucky always made this sort of thing look so damn easy, Steve silently bemoaned and swallowed thickly, his eyes trained on the screen as he contemplated whether or not he should wrap his arm around the historical-fiction novelist’s shoulders. He reached into their shared bucket of popcorn and sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers suddenly brushed against (Y/N)’s; when he looked over at her, she was smiling at him and he felt himself smile back as she tossed a kernel of popcorn into her mouth that was accompanied by a flirtatious wink and returned her attention back to the screen.

It wasn’t until George and Lorraine’s much-anticipated dance in the school’s decorated gymnasium that Steve found the opportune moment to make his move. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he moved his arm up and slowly lowered it to rest around (Y/N)’s shoulders; he was careful to avoid the bare skin of her shoulder and curl his fingers around the silky material covering her upper arm, but the respectful gesture didn’t stop him from feeling the warmth radiating off of her or detecting the subtle uptick of her heartbeat at his careful touch. Steve’s own breath hitched when the historical-fiction novelist not only scooted closer to his side, but also rested her head on his shoulder; he didn’t bother fighting the smile that stretched across his face as his body relaxed and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, feeling nothing but love for the woman sitting beside him while they both watched George and Lorraine finally share a sweet kiss.

“Earth Angel, Earth Angel, please be mine. My darling dear, love you for all time. I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you…”

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

The moon was shining high in the darkened sky when Steve finally took (Y/N) back home. After the movie, they’d spontaneously decided to visit a nearby ice cream parlor and enjoy their frozen treats while strolling around the block arm-in-arm, and it wasn’t until they noticed several bars beginning to close for the night that they realized just how late it was; they were having too much fun eating their ice cream and laughing at (Y/N)’s many attempts to teach Steve how Instagram filters worked, but they were mainly just enjoying spending time in one another’s presence. The rumbling of the super-soldier’s motorcycle ceased when he parked in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house and switched off the engine, and silence settled over the street as he gallantly walked alongside her to the porch.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Standing on the porch, (Y/N) gave Steve – who was nearly eye-to-eye with her from where he stood at the base of the steps – a teasing grin. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Captain Rogers.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Yeah, well, you’d be the first lady to ever think that; most of Bucky and mine’s double dates usually ended with my date forgetting that I existed and both gals trying to make a move on Buck.”

“I suppose it’s their loss and my gain, then.” While Steve’s cheeks turned pink at her compliment, (Y/N) shrugged off the leather jacket he’d insisted on letting her wear when she started to shiver during their stroll, cringing at the cool night air on her flushed skin but handing the jacket over to him; she took a moment to admire the super-soldier’s muscular physique while he slid his jacket back on and was forced to clear her throat before continuing. “Well, I…I should probably head in; Sam’s probably spying on us as we speak and waiting to interrogate me.”

“I’m sure he’d be at the window if he hadn’t fallen asleep while watching reruns of NCIS.” A teasing smile of his own curved his lips upwards when (Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “Good hearing’s just one of the many side effects of being a super-soldier.”

Sometimes, it was easy for (Y/N) to forget that the man standing before her was Captain America, a bonafide superhero who could lift a ton without breaking a sweat and who miraculously survived being frozen in ice for nearly seventy years. To her, he was just Steve Rogers, a handsome man who strived to learn as much as he could, who had a dry but witty sense of humor and who made her feel well and truly loved. “I meant what I said earlier,” (Y/N) quietly admitted and reached out to hold one of Steve’s hands. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in…well, a pretty long time.”

Steve’s azure eyes softened as he nodded in agreement. “Me too. I wish it didn’t have to end.” When she arched a brow at that, his eyes widened in panic and he stammered out, “T-That’s, um, that’s not what I meant, I wasn’t trying to…not that I don’t want to, you know, but…I swear, I’m not implying that you and I should…” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck and let out an embarrassed groan. “Ninety-seven, and I still can’t talk to a beautiful woman without gettin’ tongue-tied.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s true…” Smiling, she brought her free hand up card her fingers through his hair before gently cupping his smooth jaw. “But it’s also one of the many things I love about you.”

Steve gave her a breathtaking grin and leaned forward, his impossibly-long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his soft lips met hers; the gentle and passionate way that Steve kissed her made her feel cherished and while his hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist, she couldn’t help but marvel at how the highly-trained super-soldier’s touch was nothing short of reverential when it came to her. His kisses were addictive and as they finally separated for air, she found herself moving forward to press one last lingering kiss onto his swollen lips before pulling away far enough to meet his hooded gaze. “That was…”

“Scandalous? Inappropriate?” (Y/N) jokingly offered. “Something that would’ve ruined both our reputations in the 1940’s?”

“Incredible.” Steve finished, and the tender gleam that filled his azure eyes as he looked at her caused her own cheeks to flush. “You’re incredible, sunshine.”

That was the first time he’d ever called her something other than her given name, and the added emphasis on the term of affection certainly wasn’t lost on her. In the back of her mind, she resolved to ask him about it one day but in that moment, she all but glowed and bit her lip in a poor attempt to hide her bashful grin. “I know how busy you are with the move to the Avengers’ new facility and the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, so I’m not sure when we’ll be able to go out again but I hope it’s soon.” After Steve nodded in agreement, (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek and with a small pang of reluctance, she pulled away from his arms and finally let go of his hand. “G’night, Steve.”

“’Night, (Y/N).”

They shared one final smile before turning away from one another, (Y/N) to unlock the front door and step inside and Steve to walk down to where he’d parked his motorcycle. She gave him a wave once she saw him sitting astride the bike and stepped into the house, but the brief chime of her cell phone forced her to quickly lock up before checking her unread text messages.

Steve: I don’t think that there’s an adequate enough way to thank you for such a wonderful night, sunshine, but I was hoping I could take you out again tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner and another movie?

While her heart practically burst out of her chest with happiness, (Y/N) typed out a brief but enthusiastic reply and tiptoed into the living room to wake her sleeping roommate, but not before giving the vase of pink roses sitting on the kitchen counter an appraising smile and taking note of the fading rumble of a familiar motorcycle outside.

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

A/N: And there we have it! What did you think of their first date?? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book II: “Age of Ultron” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[sokoviansimp]

Playdate

✒ Pairings : Wanda Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson x Child!Reader (platonic)

✒ Summary : Sam and Bucky take y/n on a playdate to Chuck E. Cheese

✒ Tags and Warnings : fluff? , lmk if I missed any.

✒ Author's Note : This is the first one shot of The Package AU. I’d love to hear ideas or requests for other parts!

✒ Word Count : 2704

✒ Read Time: 13 minutes

Masterlist : The Package AU

Today was an exciting day, or at least everyone kept saying it would be. Sam and Bucky were taking you to Chuck E. Cheese, you had never been there before. You couldn’t shake the nervous feeling you had about being with Bucky and Sam without Wanda. It’s nothing they did, you were just a bit shy around certain people, especially men; but Wanda was your rock, she made you feel safe. She was someone you felt comfortable hiding behind whenever the situation called for it; without your shield, you were on your own.

Wanda knew you were feeling anxious about the day ahead, but she also knows that it will be good for you to get through moments like this without hiding away. She takes the time to assure you that she’s only a phone call away, but she has a feeling you’ll end up having so much fun that you forget about her anyhow.

“Look at you, all ready to go?”

“Come wif?” You begged with doe eyes, hoping Wanda would change her mind about coming with you three.

“No, malyshka. We talked about this, remember?”

“Pwease?” you continued on softly.

She picked you up and sat you down on the edge of the bed and kneeled in front of you, “what are you so nervous about?”

“I- you won’t be dere” you replied

“Sam and Bucky want to spend time with you, malyshka. I promise you’re going to have so much fun.” she tried to reason as she moved your hair from your face.

“Ok.” You say, not totally convinced. You figure you’re not going to get your way and it’s best to just get it over with.

Wanda walks you down to the common room to meet up with Bucky and Sam. They talk for a little bit about when they think you’ll be back so that Wanda can plan her day. She wanted to do a few errands while Sam and Bucky had you for the day.

“Ready, Y/N?” Bucky exclaimed as he went to pick you up and put you on his shoulders, you let him but didn’t give much of a response. Wanda explained to them both that you were a bit anxious so they knew what to expect. The drive took about 35 minutes; and the whole time Bucky tried to get you to sing along with him to the radio. It took a few tries, but eventually, House Party by Sam Hunt came on and you couldn't help yourself but join in. Sam knew this was a major win for Bucky, so he took a lap throughout the plaza a couple of times so that you two could finish your song before he parked the car in the Chuck E. Cheese parking lot.

“We’re here!” Sam exclaimed excitedly trying to carry over the hype from the song into the good times that lie ahead. Bucky eagerly got out of his seat and headed straight for your door to let you out, “Are you ready, Y/N? I’m so excited, are you excited?!” He said like a little kid getting ready to go into a candy shop. You nodded your head in return, hoping that would be enough. You didn’t know how to feel truthfully, you weren’t sure exactly what stood through the doors but everyone said it would be fun.

The first thing you noticed about the place was that it was immediately much louder than the parking lot. As soon as you walked through the door you could hear bells, games, music, and kids making just about any noise they could. It was a bit overwhelming, you tried to look around to see what the place entailed. Right away, the flashing lights of the games caught your eye.

Soon enough you went through the gate and they stamped each of your forearms with the number 112 in a glow-in-the-dark ink that only showed under their black light. You were hesitant at first, but seeing Bucky and Sam get the stamp and not flinch put you at ease. The metal and the ink were slightly cold to your skin as it was applied but seeing it glow really fascinated you. Moments after walking in, Sam quickly found a table for the 3 of you to settle into. Bucky passed out the menus, “you hungry, y/n?” he says while scanning his laminated parchment.

“Wittle bit” you replied as you began to scan the photos throughout the menu. “Dis’ll be it” you say as if it is all you want and Bucky looks down to see you pointing to an image of chocolate cake, “yea, I bet it would be.” he chuckles back in response, “how about we split a pizza before we go play?” sam offered. “Sounds good to me, what about you, sport?” he asks, waiting for your response. You respond with a nod, “I like pizza,” you confirm and with that, a waiter is over to take your order.

“We can go on the slide?” you wonder aloud to the two boys with you as you watch the other kids having fun coming down the slide.

“We sure can, we’ll start with that after we eat,” Bucky answers you.

You’re not sure exactly how long the food took to come but it didn’t feel like long as you watched all the kids playing around you. You were hesitant to immediately want to try some things as you were content watching the other kids do them while you feel it out. Just watching them have fun was enough for you to be intrigued by the activity as you decide if it's really worth your attention.

Once you finished up your meal, you all made your way to discard your shoes onto the shoe rack so that you could head into the play gym. You hesitated on the first step, not wanting to climb up first. “You first,” You say to the two behind you. Sam, next in line, switches spots with you and agrees to be the guinea pig, “alright, alright. I’ll go first”

After the first few blocks, and bucky guiding your feet to the right spots, you were getting the hang of it. You thought the coolest part was seeing the view from the top of the room. At the top of the enclosed playpen, there was a makeshift car that had a windshield to look out over the entire restaurant and a steering wheel that didn’t really do anything but look and feel fun as you pretend you're driving a car through the air. You sat in the passenger seat with sam and then scooted to the driver seat when Bucky came up.

Sam was the first to make it to the slide since he was the first one to go. When he got down to the bottom, he immediately got in position with his phone camera to take a video of your first time down a slide.

You came down, and then Bucky next. The slide emptied into a large ball pit. It took you a bit of time to get through the balls, luckily Bucky was behind you to help you through. On your way out you grab a light blue one and hold it close to you, wanting to save it forever. There were so many balls in the pit, surely one going with you wouldn’t be missed.

“Wanna go play some games now?” Bucky asked, excited to play air hockey with you.

“Uh sure.” not really caring what you do next as long as it’s fun, and you get to take your new ball.

Once Sam noticed you had the ball over in the gaming area, he immediately said it needed to be brought back to the ball pit. Bucky could see that you were sad but you were well-behaved and didn’t put up a fight with Sam as he took it back to where it belonged. Since Sam was busy returning your ball, Bucky got the first game against you on the air hockey table, not that he would’ve let Sam go first anyway.

Bucky got 2 in on you right off the bat; but once you were able to block a couple of his shots, you got the hang of pelting the puck back and eventually caught back up. In the end, Bucky had you beaten but you played a pretty good game.

The next few hours were spent switching between games and climbing through the playground. Sam quickly had enough of the playground and chose to wait for the two of you at the bottom.

In the meantime, he noticed that some people had started to gather at the tables by the stage. This made him decide to check the showtimes and sure enough, there was one in about 20 minutes so he moved your belongings from the table you currently had to one that was in the other room by the stage.

The next time the two of you came down the slide, he motioned for you to meet him over there for the show. Sam could see some of the parents around him hyping up the show to the kids to try and get them excited, to some it was working, but he couldn’t do that to you in good conscience. To be honest, he didn’t know how you would react to this show, and whether you’d completely vibe with the tunes and animated animals or you’d see them as creepy possessed singing demons. Both were valid.

Luckily, it was the first of the two. The creepy puppetry didn’t phase you one bit as all you saw were cute animals singing catchy tunes. Bucky noticed you dancing in your seat to the beats, so he lifted you onto the floor as he turned his chair toward the stage so you could stand between his legs and dance more fully on the floor in front of him without being in the way of others.

When the show ends, Sam asks you if there is anything else you’d like to do before they leave. After thinking thoroughly through your options, you assured him you were ready when they were.

“WAIT, we have to see what prizes we can get with all these tickets!” Bucky enthusiastically reminded you.

“Prizes?” you wondered. You knew you got tickets for being good at certain games but you had no idea that you could trade them in for prizes.

“Yea! Here, put your shoes on and we’ll go see.” Bucky explained as he handed you your shoes and put his on as well. While the two of you put on your shoes, Sam neatened up the tickets that were strewn across the table so that they would go into the machine easier.

Once your shoes were on and you were ready to go, other than having your jacket on which Sam carried, you all headed over to the ticket counter. Bucky handed you the first set of tickets and guided your hand to the slot; once the ticket was gripped by the machine, it automatically started sucking the rest in as it counted it. The action startled you at first, you don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn't that. Not too long later though, you're memorized by the action and the way the number keeps going up.

Once all the tickets are in the machine, the number at the top read 582. You looked to Bucky to see what it all meant so he explained that anything behind the counter with a number less than that is something you could bring home. You scanned the case and the wall thoroughly, most of the ones on the wall were really high ticket prices but there was one stuffed animal that caught your eye and it was 500 tickets. You knew immediately the blue owl stuffie was the one you wanted.

“OWL!” you pointed to the plush on the wall.

“This one?” The worker grabbed the stuffed animal to confirm your choice. You nodded excitedly in response and hugged it tightly as soon as he handed it over.

As you left the building, you got to put your hand under the black light again to see the 112 light up on all three of your arms to make sure they’re leaving with the right child. You didn’t know the reason behind the stamps but you still found them interesting. On the drive home, you hugged your new owl the whole time. “Do you have a name for your new friend yet?” Bucky turned around to ask you.

You hadn’t thought about that yet, so you took a couple seconds to thing before blurting out, “Hoot”

Soon enough, you and Hoot were sleeping soundly together in the backseat during the ride home. When Sam pulled up to the compound to find you sleeping, he gently unbuckled you from the car and managed to take you inside without disturbing you. Once he had you in his arms you nuzzled further into him to get more comfortable as you continued sleeping.

Wanda was busy cooking dinner when they came in and softy placed you on the couch of the empty common room. At the smell of meat sauce, the two boys quickly made their way to the kitchen. “How’d it go?” Wanda asked as she stirred her pot.

“Oh, we had a great time! I think Y/N had a lot of fun.” Bucky assured her.

“She’s in there sleeping with her new stuffie,” Sam added

“That’s wonderful I’m glad she had a good time. Dinner is almost ready if you two want some.”

Once the food was ready for serving, Wanda dished out two plates to the boys and two plates for her to bring to the common room. You were still sound asleep on the couch as she gently shook you awake to ask if you would like some dinner. As soon as you heard her voice, your eyes shot open. You were so excited to see her and tell her about all the fun you had with Sam and Bucky. “Y/N, sweetie. Are you hungry?”

Instead of responding you attacked her with a hug, “mm we had so much fun, look!” you said showing her your new stuffie.

“Who’s this?” “Hoot” you respond, “Mr Bucky and me played games and den we got dees tickets and wif da tickets I bought dis”

“Oh wow, you must’ve played a lot of games.” Wanda mentioned.

“We did, and- and we went down dis huge swide dat went into a swimming pool full of balls!” “A swimming pool?”

“Yea- well der was no water. I picked out a reawy pwetty ball but Mr Sam said dat it had to stay in da ball pool and I couldn’t keep it. OH! And me and Mr Bucky pwayed hockey in da air table and den we also saw a show wif a bunch of aminals!”

“Sounds like you had lots of fun!” Wanda smiled

“We did” you answered as you took the fork that Wanda handed you. The two of you continued to eat and talk about your day.

Bucky and Sam had finished up their dinner before the two of you, Sam went off to his room to get cleaned up for the night as Bucky headed out to the common room to see you.

“Hey Y/N, I uh- I have something for you” he said as he kneels down to your level.

You turn your attention away from your food to the man kneeling beside you as he pulls something from his jacket. In his hand, he hands you the same color light blue plastic ball from the ball pit. “My ball!” Your eyes lit up when you saw it and you grabbed it immediately.

“Don’t tell Sam,” He whispers as he stands up and you nod in agreeance “Tank you, Mr Bucky!”

Wanda sat there smiling at the exchange as she silently mouthed “Thank you” to Bucky as he stood up and walked away. She wasn’t thanking him for the ball though, she was thanking him for giving you memories that you could look back on and cherish forever.

Taglist: @mymommawanda @livslifeonline @reggierizzoli @mythixmagic @lesbicentism @marvelogic @katethewriter​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen @spooky-reader1 @marvelogic ​

Lmk if you ever want to be removed or added <3

[gghalcyon]

Bucky met Sarah's warm gaze, noticing the way her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at him, and he found himself drawing closer to her, wanting badly to capture her lips in his in a gentle kiss. 

Title: The Sweetest Risk | Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson | Rating: General | Words: Part 1/1 (1053 Words) | Prompt: SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Week 1, Day 2 Prompt: “Sweet Potato Pie” | Synopsis: Bucky Barnes shoots his shot and asks Sarah Wilson on a date.

Bucky smiled as he carefully balanced two white boxes with two pies from Sarah's favorite bakery downtown in one hand and a paper bag with an armful of flowers in the other. He stepped up to her porch two at a time and knocked on her door. When she opened it, Sarah smiled widely when she saw the pies and flowers and hugged Bucky.

He had decided to bring something special for Sarah when she had invited him over for dinner with her brother Sam and her boys. He had remembered Sam mentioning that sweet potato pie was Sarah's favorite, so he had gone downtown to her favorite bakery and picked up two. He also couldn't resist buying her a bouquet of flowers, hoping it'd show her his intention to get to know her better.

As Sarah invited him inside, Bucky couldn't help but notice how the dim light of her living room made her eyes sparkle. He had always felt a connection to her, and he cherished how welcoming she was to him.

Dinner was a lively affair, with Sarah's two kids, AJ and Cass, eagerly relating stories of their school day and Sarah's laughter easily filling the room. Bucky smiled, noticing how comfortable and at ease everyone seemed in her presence. As they ate, conversation flowed effortlessly among them--talking about books they had read, the latest movies, politics, and even the quirky neighbor down the street.

Amidst all this, Bucky found himself stealing glances at Sarah from time to time. He couldn't help but be drawn to her vibrant spirit and easy warmth surrounding their dinner table. Whenever his gaze met hers, she smiled knowingly back at him, and he felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine each time they locked eyes.

After dinner, Sam challenged his nephews to a race of their new toy trucks in the living room. The kids cheered and squealed in delight as their little vehicles zoomed around on the carpet.

Bucky smiled as he watched the kids laughing and racing their little toy trucks around the living room. They were so carefree and happy in that moment, making him feel happy for them.

He and Sarah soon went about cleaning up the dinner they had shared. Sarah had prepared a delicious meal, and Bucky noticed how peaceful and comfortable the kitchen was compared to the chaos in the other room. As they worked together, they kept up a steady conversation about movies, books, and other topics easily.

Bucky couldn't help but steal glances at Sarah as they worked. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, revealing her soft neckline, and she had ditched her sweater in the kitchen's warmth. He was struck by how casually beautiful she was--he noticed how her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about or how her lips slightly curved upwards into an easy smile when she laughed at one of his jokes.

Bucky and Sarah continued to clean together comfortably. As Bucky reached for a plate, Sarah's hand accidentally brushed against his metal arm. He instinctively tensed, expecting her to recoil from the reminder of his dark past.

But instead, she simply smiled softly and gave him an understanding look. Sarah didn't flinch away. Instead, her fingers lingered, openly grazing along the smooth metal plates. She touched his arm as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Just like she had accepted every part of him since they first met, seeing him for who he was now, not who he used to be.

At that moment, Bucky felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. He met Sarah's warm gaze, noticing the way her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at him, and he found himself drawing closer to her, wanting badly to capture her lips in his in a gentle kiss. She inched forward to meet his, but Sam's voice in the other room distracted them and she pulled away.

From the living room, Sam's voice rang out. "Cass, no throwing the trucks!" Then softer, to himself, "Definitely gotta talk to Bucky about flirting with my sister..."

Bucky ducked his head sheepishly, but Sarah just grinned and playfully bumped his shoulder. "Don't worry about him," she whispered. As she slid her hand down Bucky's metal arm, he shivered pleasantly.

"It's nice getting to spend time with you tonight," she said softly. "Joining us for dinner meant a lot for the boys."

"Just the boys?" Bucky couldn't help but shoot his shot, feeling a connection grow between them.

Sarah smiled beautifully at him. "It meant a lot to me too. I figured you'd already know that."

Bucky swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest as he nervously looked into Sarah's eyes. He wanted to make the most of this moment, to express the feelings he had been harboring for her since they had first met.

"Maybe next time you'll let me cook for you, just us two," he blurted out, instantly regretting how cheesy it sounded.

Sarah tilted her head and gave him a small grin. "Yeah?"

The corners of Bucky's mouth lifted into a timid smile as Sarah waited patiently for his response. He nodded slowly, feeling bolder than before. He stepped closer and caught her hand, gently running his thumb over her knuckles. "Go on a date with me, Sarah?"

Sarah blushed and looked up at him through thick lashes, her eyes bright and her smile as beautiful as ever. "Yes. I'd really like that, Bucky."

Bucky couldn't help but smile widely and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, feeling a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. This amazing woman was going to give him a shot.

The two of them stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before Sam's voice interrupted them from the living room. "You two almost done in there?" they heard Sam call out.

Bucky and Sarah shared knowing glances and chuckled to themselves. Sarah called back to Sam jokingly, "Almost," before returning to Bucky.

Yeah, he was definitely in trouble here with Sam for asking Sarah out on a date. But one look at her glowing smile made him think some risks are worth taking.

Read More Stories @ Fanfiction Master List or G.G. Halcyon's AO3

[impala-dreamer]

Another War

A Story From The MCU (Falcon and The Winter Soldier)

~Sam and Bucky are continuously bickering... even in the bedroom.~

Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, F!Reader

1,732 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Comedy and Smuts. 

A/N: I didn't "pair them up" for a reason, but there's no Sam/Bucky action... don't worry. You'll see...

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It wasn’t an uncommon thing to bear witness to- the bickering. Sam and Bucky were constantly at each other’s throats arguing about just about everything. Not a moment would pass where one man wasn’t side-eyeing the other and or dramatically huffing. It was generally amusing, but at that moment, it was incredibly frustrating.

They stood, naked and quarreling at the foot of the bed, repeatedly gesturing towards you even as they paid you no regard.

With ankles and wrists tied to the bed with silken ropes, a white sash wrapped around your head and locked between your lips, you were at their mercy. Naked and whimpering, you had no choice but to wait and see what their plan was.

“All I’m sayin’ is that we can’t both be down there at the same time.”

Bucky scoffed at Sam’s words. “You kidding me? Of course we can. She has two holes.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I ain’t gonna be in a position where my dick touches your dick. Even by accident, even a little bit. Therefore, double time is out.”

The thought of both of them down south at once made you shiver and leak. You could feel a stream of wetness slick down your crack and into the sheets. It probably wasn’t possible to take both of them at once- your ass was untrained, your cunt too tight, but the idea was lovely. Eyes gliding down their firm bodies, you gazed at their cocks, only half hard but long and thick. Imagining them both at once, practically splitting you open was enough to make you moan.

Bucky shot a look at you and his lips curled in a tiny smirk. “Be right with you, doll,” he assured, adding a wink for good measure.

Arousal burned in your belly and you jerked your hips. Blue eyes widened slightly and Bucky licked his lips.

“She’s waiting,” he said, turning back to Sam.

“Yeah, well, so am I.” Sam rubbed a hand down his face and scratched at his jaw. “You know what? Screw this. I’m going in.”

Grabbing his cock, Sam turned to the bed and only managed to get one knee on the mattress before he was stopped by a metal grip that nearly knocked him back into the far wall.

“Not so fast!” Bucky warned, eyes narrowed and silver digits tensing on Sam’s upper arm. “We’re not finished here.”

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. “And we never will be if you don’t step off and let me get in there.”

It was hard not to laugh at their ridiculous argument, but harder still not to whine with desperation. You gnawed at the sash in your mouth and pushed it with your tongue in a pathetic attempt to loosen it and speak.

Sam had tied it well.

Bucky growled and released his hold on Sam.

“Who put you in charge of positions anyway?”

Dark eyes stared on with annoyance. “I did. You can’t make a damned decision to save your life.”

Bucky balked. “Fuck you, I can decide things. I’ve been deciding things since before your grandfather was born!”

“Here we go again, the old man talk.” Sam tossed his hands up and sighed. “You always gotta bring up that shit like it matters.”

“It does matter.” Bucky took a step towards the bed, essentially blocking Sam from getting to you. “Now, respect your elders and back up. That pussy is mine.”

Every muscle in your body clenched and your sensitive flesh darkened with heightened arousal.

Sam skirted around him and set his knee on the bed once more. “Don’t think so, Grandpa. She wants a young, virile man, not some Baby Boomer.”

“Virile?”

“You heard me.”

Bucky sneered and pushed Sam back again. “And excuse me, I’m no Baby Boomer. We were called the Greatest Generation for a reason.”

Sam chuckled. “Were. As in past tense.” Fearlessly, he grabbed Bucky’s metal arm and shoved him back away from the bed. “Make room for the future.”

More than annoyed, Bucky whipped his arm away and sucked his teeth, his jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick your ass later, just be prepared.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sam set his eyes on your cunt and puckered his wet lips, honing in on his target. “You can try.”

“I will.”

“Sure.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Almost at the end of your patience, you tried to break up the fight, but your words came on in an unintelligible mumble. You strained against the ropes, twisted your hips, groaned as loud as you could.

The men got your point and relented. They both took a deep breath and stood back up, turning once more towards each other to end the debate and get over their bickering.

A wave of relief washed over you and you set your eyes upon their cocks once more. Your mouth watered around the sash and drool spilled down your chin. You needed them badly, no matter who went where.

Sam spoke first, his arms crossed over his smooth, puffed out chest, taking charge again. “How about we spit roast her? Will that make you happy?”

Confused, Bucky squinted down at him. “What?”

“Spit roast,” he repeated.

Bucky laughed. “That’s not a thing, you made that up.”

Sam exhaled hard through his nose. “That absolutely is a thing.”

“No it’s not. You’re just fucking with me.”

“While I do enjoy fucking with you, this time I’m not. It’s a thing.”

Bucky hummed and looked over at you, trying to imagine what Sam was talking about.

“It’s when we go at her from both ends,” Sam explained calmly. “Like… putting a chicken on a spit and… well, roasting it.”

“So… I go-” Bucky gestured to your pussy, then your face. “And you go-”

“Yeah. Technically. Except I’m going there-” Sam pointed at your cunt. “And you go up there.”

Bucky shook his head. “Why do you get to go there? Why can’t I go there?”

“Because someone’s gotta go there and the other has to go up there or the whole thing doesn’t work!”

Sensing the utter decline of your evening, you yelled again and thrashed about until they stopped and stared at you.

Bucky cocked a brow. “Why don’t we just ask Y/N what she wants?”

It was as if the idea had occurred to neither of them, and Sam made a little noise of interest.

“Huh. Good idea.”

Back on the mattress, he crawled up to the headboard and gently pulled the sash from your mouth. Finally free, you smacked your dry lips together and swallowed.

“Thank you!” Flipping your head to glare at them both in turn, you let them have it. “You two are the dumbest fuckers I’ve ever met. You’re literally fighting over the stupidest thing right now. Who goes where, who does what… You’re both gonna get some so who cares! And, you’ve both already been both places so you know they’re both good- so shut the fuck up and somebody fuck me before I dry up faster than Arizona in a drought!”

At your feet, Bucky struggled not to laugh, but Sam let it go, nearly bursting out at your frustration.

“Oh my god! Now you’re laughing at me?”

Sam covered his mouth, unable to stop. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Watching Sam lose it, Bucky broke as well. He turned his back but you could see his shoulders shaking with each laugh.

“You two suck,” you sighed. “So much.”

Sam softened and leaned close, his breath wisping over your collarbone. “Oh, don’t be like that. You know you love it.”

Your pulse quickened. “Nope. I hate you both.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at you; blue eyes bright and mesmerizing. “Come on, sweetheart. No need to lie.”

The shiver was back and you squirmed, rolling your hips as Bucky flipped over onto his hands and knees. He was like a tiger and your lips were his prey.

With your eyes locked on Bucky, Sam snuck his hand down your side and scraped his blunt nails across your lower belly.

“Oh god…”

Bucky reached his goal and dropped down to lick deep into your mouth, spreading your lips with his forceful kiss. You moaned into his mouth, felt your eyes close tight as the heat spread quickly through your system.

When Sam’s fingers dipped between your open legs, you choked back a scream as the flood returned. He gathered up the slick and coated your clit with it before turning mind numbing circles right above it.

“Not dry now,” he teased.

Bucky pulled back and stared down into the very center of you. “She never is…”

Sam sat up a bit. “Well, sometimes she is. She don’t walk around soaking her panties all day.”

“She does when I’m around.”

“You know what- I’m gonna smack the hell out of you if you-”

“Enough!”

Your roar shut them both up and they looked down in awe and apology.

“I swear to god, this is the last time I let you two into my bed at the same time. I can’t take it anymore.” A deep breath calmed you slightly, but it was just too much. “Now, untie me and let’s get this thing over with. Bucky, you’re up here, Sam, you go downtown. OK? Good. Let’s go.”

In agreement and in tandem, they both set to releasing you from the ropes. Bucky gently untied your ankles while Sam leaned over you to let your arms free.

“See? Told you she wanted me down there,” Sam whispered under his breath while scooting down to the foot of the bed.

Bucky leered and shook his head. “You’re such an ass.”

Sam sat straight up and raised a finger, ready to lash out at Bucky again, reup the argument.

Before they could get back at it, you jumped up and slapped them both in the side of the head.

“Hey!”

Sam gulped audibly and Bucky rubbed at his head.

“Ouch.”

“That didn’t hurt,” Sam huffed.

Bucky gawked. “Yes it did!”

“No it didn’t, you pussy.”

“Who you calling a pussy, you fat head?”

“Fat head? The fuck does that even mean?”

On and on they went, not even noticing that you slipped away into the other room to take care of yourself on the sofa.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing to witness them fighting, but it certainly was frustrating.

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05  

[raithwithwings57]

Wip Stucky Fic

Peice of my unpublished ao3 fic that I have let lie around on my laptop for a while. Context: Bucky has been freed from being the winter soldier, Steve is still sleeping in the ice, and Bucky works with shield. This is one version of several I have of this scene. Warning: violent

Asking For The Dead

James rode up on a Harley, wearing a dark leather jacket, combat boots, and a green MOLLE bag slung over one shoulder. HIs long hair was whipping all over in the wind, and smoke drifted from the cigarette dangling between the metal fingers of his left hand. He blew out a long line of smoke as he parked one handed, and kicked out the kickstand. He threw his leg over the bike and walked over to the cluster of stressed looking agents.

Stark turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Who the hell is this guy?” He said, nudging the man at his side— Col. Rhodes he thought his name was. The Colonel frowned and shook his head. “Don’t have a clue.”

James saw that Barton and Romanoff were walking over to join them as well. He leaned back on his heels, reveling in the flavor of the smoke. One of the agents frowned and stepped forward before the other two could reach them. He held out a hand to shake, “Sam Wilson.”

James shook the proffered hand. “James.”

Wilson raised an eyebrow. “First name or last name?”

James blinked at him and brought his cigarette to his mouth to take another drag. Wilson’s eyes watched the movements of his metal hand with what looked like morbid curiosity. “Just James.”

Wilson looked mildly offended, withdrawing his hand. “Okay then.”

Barton and Romanoff joined their little group with greetings for the others. Wilson turned his attention to them instead. Barton had purple hearing aids on, a small box of pizza balanced against his hip, and a battered Styrofoam cup of coffee that he managed to hold with his teeth as he gave fistpounds in greeting instead of handshakes. Romanoff smiled and said hello to everyone. “Okay, okay, but who is that guy?” Stark said, gesturing widely to James.

They all turned to look at him. Romanoff’s expression didn’t change, but Barton grinned around his cup, reached up to remove the cup and set it to rest precariously on his pizza box and said over-loudly, “Oh hey it’s you again! The guy who jumps out of airplanes without a parachute.” Barton glanced back at his teammates. “We did an op together, this guy is fucking crazy.”

James nodded to him, “Agent Barton. I brought you Starbucks by the way. I’ve got a cupholder compartment in my saddlebags.”

“You what? Why are you being nice to me? That’s suspicious. Last time we worked together I accidentally let you get shot, I feel like I should not be accepting any beverages from you.”

James tipped his head to the side. “Oh it’s not nice. I just know that your coffee is crap and that the cruelest thing I could do is give you coffee so nice that you’re forced to think about it every time you drink that awful coffee you have, and then you’ll be pining for expensive coffee and curse my name all the time.” He smiled.

“No! Why does he look like a cute puppy dog when he smiles like that! Stop it, shield my eyes, this dude literally decapitated a guy with his bare hands I can’t fall for this façade. LOPSIDED SMILES DO NOT WORK ON ME, I’M FUCKING STRAIGHT. Okay mostly straight, no, no I’m straight aesthetic appreciation does not change my sexuality but I— ”

Colonel Rhodes held up a hand. “Back that up decapitated someone? Are we just going to conversationally move on from that or?”

“Okay yes, Mr, Dramatic eyeliner TM ripped a dude’s head off. In his defense if I had a metal arm I might do that also.”

Stark looked distinctly appalled. “I have a metal suit and I don’t do that.”

James sniffed indignantly. “It’s not eyeliner, it’s warpaint.”

“Yeah whatever you got to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

Stark said, “Yeah, I don’t think his makeup choices are having a whole lot of influence over his ability to sleep at night.”

James looked at Stark blankly.

Stark’s eyebrows rose. “Okay so that’s officially next level creepy.” He gestured to his own face. “That right there, yeah don’t do that in job interviews.”

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 1

summary: Natasha identifies a girl who needs their help and makes a case to the rest of the team. the problem? the girl who needs the help was genetically engineered to oppose their friend.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

chapter list

________________________________________

Three Months Earlier

The team filed into the conference room at The Avengers’ Compound in their usual order: Steve and Vision (fifteen minutes early), Peter, Bruce, Wanda, and Sam right on time, and Tony striding in five minutes late. 

“I have to admit, when I heard you wanted to see me, I was hoping for more of a one-on-one situation.” Sam joked as he plopped down in his chair. 

“Keep dreaming, Wilson.” She shot him a side-eyed glance, a shadow of a smile on her face. 

The room held a strange energy, remaining unusually quiet as everyone waited for Natasha to explain the reason for calling the meeting. Steve and Tony had historically been the only ones to call official team briefings. 

“I found a girl.” Natasha slid a stack of folders across the table. 

“Hey, love is love. As long as I can watch.” Tony grinned. 

“Shut up.” She ignored him and clicked a button on her computer, bringing a set video footage to life on the screen behind her. “Her name is Charlotte Julianna Rossi. She’s 21 years old, according to her Drivers’ License. According to her birth certificate, she’s closer to 100.” 

The room fell quiet, Steve and Natasha exchanging a sobering gaze. The screen on the wall showed several clips at once, all featuring a pretty young girl. Her hair was different colors across all of the clips, some showing her with long, blonde locks and some showing a cropped dark haircut with severe bangs, others showing varying shades of red. 

“She’s hardly been on the radar until the past two years. In that time period, she’s been hospitalized seventeen times for injuries consistent with overuse and extreme fatigue. Rhabdomyolysis, kidney damage, severe muscle strain, dehydration, the list goes on. Every single time, she’s admitted in a critical state but checks herself out against medical advice less than 24 hours later.” 

As the team shuffled through the documents in front of them, putting pieces together, Natasha continued. 

“I found her because she made headlines earlier this year after getting kicked out of Team USA Olympic trials for women’s gymnastics. They tried to cover it up, didn’t want to get any questions they didn’t have an answer for. From what I was able to gather, she came out of nowhere, competed at the last National Championship meet as an unaffiliated gymnast, and won every event with a perfect score. The entire gymnastics community was up in arms about it. They tried to figure out where she came from, where she trained, but there was nothing. No record. Of course, Team USA begged her to come to the tryout, she blew them away. Somehow, one of the families of the gymnasts at risk of losing their spot got her kicked off for use of performance enhancing drugs. The thing is, there’s no record of her ever even being tested.”

“No offense, Nat, but we aren’t exactly looking to start a Cirque Du Soleil Troupe here.” 

“Tony, shut the fuck up and let me finish.” She gave him an austere look as he put his hands up defensively. 

“Since then, she’s won a dozen amateur MMA matches, three boxing matches, and won fifteen straight games of poker before being banned from the majority of Vegas casinos. She’s making her money drifting, picking up random things and kicking everyone’s ass at them. Clearly, it’s not without a toll, if you look at her hospital records.”

She clicked a button and the screen shifted, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. A grainy document had been scanned in, the HYDRA symbol emblazoned on the top of the letterhead. 

“Project Mockingbird. It was pioneered two years after the Winter Soldier project. Specifically, it was initiated only ten days after a record seventeen HYDRA agents were critically injured trying to contain their primary test subject during an attempted escape.” 

Wanda spoke slowly. “You mean…”

“Bucky.” Steve breathed out. 

“Right.” Natasha was solemn. “I didn’t want to leave him out of this, but I didn’t know how he’d handle it. I figured it was better to tell him once we have more information.” 

Steve nodded, brow knit together in concern. 

“Okay, so I think I’m tracking all of this, but if you could - just so I’m clear, what exactly does all of this mean?” Peter leaned forward nervously. 

Taking a deep breath, Natasha answered. “This is just a hypothesis, but I don’t see much wiggle room. It appears that when HYDRA was working on the Winter Soldier project, on Bucky…they had difficulties containing him. Controlling him. When it became apparent that ordinary agents couldn’t do it, they took to experimenting on others. Orphans, mainly. People no one would miss. Trying to create something…someone to be able to stand against him.”

She pulled out a chair and sat for the first time, regarding all of them seriously. “They had dozens of test subjects. The majority of them didn’t survive the initial round of experimentation. A few others suffered complications in cryo. She’s the only one left.”

“Forgive me for being so forward,” Vision spoke up. “But, if I’m understanding correctly, we have reason to believe that Ms. Ross, she was created to oppose Sergeant Barnes.” 

“Yes.” Natasha avoided Steve’s eyes like her life depended on it. “I believe that Charlotte Julianna Rossi was enhanced by HYDRA as a sentient weapon with the primary purpose being containment and control of The Winter Soldier.” 

Present Day

“Thank you.” Natasha gave a polite smile to the driver as he opened the car door for her to step out. They’d arrived at the Wynn, one of - if not the nicest hotels on the Las Vegas strip. 

She’d wasted no time after the mission was approved, spending the majority of the flight putting on full glam and finishing it off with the perfect red lip. Black cocktail dress, gold heels that caught and reflected all the Vegas lights, studded clutch purse with cash, lipstick, and a pistol. Tony had offered to book her a hotel room through his connections, but she’d waved him off. 

They’d be back in New York by sunrise. 

It didn’t take long for her to locate Charlotte. Though 8pm was early by Vegas accounts, the casino was lively. Natasha dodged several attempted pick-up attempts by drunken gamblers as she wove through the tables to her end destination: the high stakes room. A sultry smile paired with her low cut dress made quick work of gaining entry. It wasn’t unusual for beautiful women to be welcomed into the high stakes room. The only thing rich men loved more than blowing money was doing it in front of a pretty audience. Nat slipped into the intimate room, the air full of cigar smoke and jazz music. 

Seated at a small table was a pretty brunette, eyes dark with smudged shadow and lips glossy. A martini sat in front of her, completely untouched, judging by the lack of a gloss print on the rim. Charlotte tapped the table in front of her, signaling for the dealer to give her another card. She already showed a nineteen, meaning standard play said she shouldn’t hit. The crowd murmured, exchanging glances. In the betting circle was a stack of $1,000 chips that Natasha estimated to be around $20,000. 

To the shock of everyone but Natasha and Charlotte, the dealer flipped a third card to reveal a two of diamonds. Blackjack. 

Charlotte grinned, leaning back and relishing in the applause as the dealer paled and began counting out chips to pay her. Nat cracked a smile but immediately felt a jolt in her stomach. The dealer had given a nod to the guard at the front, who was now touching his earpiece and speaking softly. She couldn’t hear him over the music, but his lips read clear as day: She must be counting. 

Acting quickly, Nat stepped to the table, making herself wobbly and heavy lidded.

“Ohmygod, THERE you are,” she put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, who immediately tensed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, c’mon, the girls are waiting with the Uber,”

She squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder and briefly broke character to give an urgent look, hoping she’d pick up on the fact that the drunk persona was intentional.

“Oh, look at the time,” She said in mock surprise. “It’s been fun, don’t have too much fun without me!” Her manicured hands slid stacks of chips into her purse, a few falling to the floor with wide-eyed spectators locked onto them. 

“Get yourself something nice, Gary.” She flicked a purple $1,000 chip to the dealer who fumbled to catch it. Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw two men approaching them from across the casino floor. She elbowed Charlotte, who tracked her gaze and clocked them immediately. 

Waving her arm, Natasha knocked the still-full martini glass onto the felt of the Blackjack table. The gin spewed across the cards and glass splintered on contact. “Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have taken that last shot,” She called the apology over her shoulder into the chaos that descended over the mess, linking her arm through Charlotte’s as she fumbled to close her small bag around the massive amount of chips. 

They slid out the door under the cover of the bachelorette party walking past, slipping right into the middle of the drunken parade. 

“What’s going on?” The brunette hissed through a fake smile, keeping the facade up. 

“You were about to get busted. I thought I’d help a girl out.” Nat said through her own plastered smile, eyes darting around the room in search of their next problem. 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. That’s why I’m here in the first place.” 

Charlotte side-eyed her as they walked through the casino, still covered by the herd of pink boas and giggles. 

“Stark sent you.” 

“No.”

“I’m not stupid, I-”

“He’s the stupid one. I wanted to come in the first place, it was him who thought the testosterone brigade was the way to go. We can get into that later, but right now we’ve gotta move. There’s two coming up -”

“Yeah, six o’clock. Two more probably waiting around the corner up ahead. If we cut through the floor, we can make it to the cashier before they get to us.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, impressed at how they jumped to the same wavelength. “You still want to cash out?”

Charlotte grinned, a wild gleam in her eye. “Duh.” 

A few minutes later, they’d steered the group of girls to the cashier and fanned them out so that each of the six windows had two girls standing in front of it. Each of them with roughly $4,000 worth of chips in their hands. They got through the exchanges in record time, leaving the bachelorettes in a flurry of drunken “iloveyou’s” with a stack of bills to show their appreciation for the help. 

“That should cover the rest of their weekend.” Nat smirked as they strode quickly to the lobby, positioning her body slightly in front of Charlotte so as not to draw attention to the thick wads of cash she was zipping into her bag. 

“I don’t know, I can blow three grand pretty quickly on my own, let alone with ten of my closest friends.” 

“I don’t think I want ten friends.” 

Charlotte matched her pace, the bag finally zipped. “I don’t even know ten people, I just thought it sounded good.” 

They reached the front doors, nodding at the valet who held the door open for them. 

“I have a driver, this way.” Natasha cocked her head to the front of the valet line, full of sports cars and sleek SUVs. Glancing over her shoulder at the casino, the men seemed to have lost them in the crowd. Charlotte weighed her options quickly, deciding that taking a getaway car with the Avenger was preferable to whatever awaited her if she stayed.

They slid into the backseat of the black sedan, breathing quickly from adrenaline. 

“You’re back so soon, Ms. Romanoff.” The driver called from the front seat. 

“It was getting stale, figured I could find something more fun.” 

The driver’s eyes crinkled in a knowing smile in the rearview mirror. Charlotte had a feeling he knew much more than he should, choosing to live in ignorance. 

“You hungry?” the redhead asked nonchalantly. 

“Starving.” 

_________________

The duo sat in a secluded corner booth of a dark bar. The remnants of two burgers sat strewn across the plates, a few leftover fries getting cold. Natasha signaled to the bartender for another round of martinis, extra dirty. 

“Who knew the best burgers in Vegas would come from a strip club?” Charlotte downed the remnants of her drink to make room for the new one. 

“Hey, I’m no stranger to Vegas.” 

“So I can tell.” She shifted to sit up straighter. “Do you wanna get into your sales pitch now, or should we wait for the drinks?”

Natasha remained casual, leaning against the pristine leather of the booth. “There’s no sales pitch. Just an offer. Take it or leave it.” 

“And the offer is…?” 

“Come with me. Back to New York. Live at the compound. Be around people like you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “There are no people like me.” 

“Spare me the pity party bullshit.” Nat leaned in. “I don’t know the specifics of your story, but I know enough to tell you that we are like you.”

Taken aback by her forcefulness, the brunette narrowed her eyes. 

“Enhanced individual? Pretty much all of us. Dark, twisty past? We’ve got ‘em. Done things we aren’t proud of? Goes without saying. No friends, no family? We have a very dysfunctional Thanksgiving of our own.” She gave a small smile. “Experimented on, dehumanized, controlled, stripped of autonomy? Specifically by one particular Nazi rogue science division?” Natasha changed her tone, speaking gently. “One of my very best friends knows a little something about that, too.” 

Charlotte tensed, eyes glazed as she stared into the dark room in front of them. “James Barnes.” It wasn’t a question. 

“We call him Bucky.” 

Chewing her lower lip, Charlotte seemed lost in her thoughts. A cocktail waitress interrupted with two fresh drinks, setting them down with a smile. Eyes still defocused, she reached out to sip the drink slowly. 

“I don’t think it’s smart.” 

“Why?” Natasha took a sip of her own. “There’s nowhere safer for you. The Compound is literally the most secure place on Earth, except maybe Wakanda, and before you say you’re worried about hurting someone there - don’t. We live with Dr. Banner, who you probably know as the Hulk. I’m sure you’re a force to be reckoned with, but I can assure you that even on your worst day you wouldn’t be putting us at risk.”

She spun the wooden stick adorned with olives between her fingers, thinking. “I don’t want to be an Avengers. I’m not a hero. I don’t want to fight.” 

“Then don’t.” Natasha shrugged. “I’m not a military recruiter. I just remember what it was like to be alone, scared. Unsure where to go or who to trust. I’m offering you a home and a group of people you can count on. Anything else is up to you.” 

Charlotte smirked. “You’re much better at this than the last three.” 

“Story of my life.” She rolled her eyes.

“So, what would happen if I said yes? Hypothetically.” 

“Well, hypothetically, I have a jet waiting at the private airfield. We’d go to whichever hotel you’re renting the penthouse out of, get your stuff, and fly back tonight.” 

“Why do you assume I’m renting out a penthouse?” 

Natasha grinned, biting an olive off the stick. “It’s what I would do.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Charlotte cocked her jaw. “I’m at the Cosmo.”

“Great choice.” She held her martini up, signaling for a toast. “How about this, we go out tonight. Do Vegas right. Do it big. If you have fun, you come back with me and try living with us. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll accept that I’m no better than the guys and go back on my own. We won’t bug you anymore, but the offer will always stand.”

“You know, a bet predicated on having fun in Las Vegas seems like a very unfair advantage.” She raised her own glass.

“I’ve never been much of a gambler.” 

“That makes one of us.” Charlotte grinned. “You’re on.” 

_________________

It was just after 4:00am when their dutiful driver opened the door on the tarmac. Heels in hand, two sets of bare feet walked up the steps into the sleek jet, Stark Industries emblazoned on the side. 

“I still can’t believe they kicked us out.” Charlotte rubbed her temples as she sunk into the white leather seat. 

“Well they don’t really encourage doing backflips off of the craps table.” Natasha sat down across from her. 

“Here I thought Vegas was the one place where anything goes.” She dropped her purse on the table in front of them, the thud echoing in the empty cabin. “At least we made out alright.” 

“I expect a cut for saving your ass.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

“You like pancakes?” Natasha punched a few buttons on a screen embedded in the wall.

“Um, who doesn’t?” 

Grinning, the redhead slid her feet onto the seat, getting comfortable. “They’ll be ready in fifteen. Probably best if we get something in our stomachs besides tequila.”

“If I knew you were offering private jets and pancakes at four in the morning, I might have been an easier sell.” 

“What are you talking about? You hardly put up a fight.” She winked. 

“Whatever, you won fair and square. I’m just holding up my end of the deal.” Charlotte tucked her knees under her, relaxing into the chair as the plane ascended.

“We’ve got a couple hours back to New York. Eat, rest, and we’ll be there before you know it. If you aren’t up for meeting people when we land, I’ll sneak you to your room. You can socialize when you’re not coming off of an all-night bender.” 

“What, you don’t think I’d make a good first impression right now?” She joked, fully aware of her smeared eye makeup and tousled hair. 

“Au contraire, I think you’d make too good of an impression. I’m just trying to give the guys a fighting chance here.”

Giggles subsiding, Charlotte looked out the window at the pinpricks of light shrinking beneath them. The smell of pancakes and overly sweet syrup filled the air as a stewardess wheeled the food out towards them. 

“Natasha?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you came.” 

She smiled, warmth extending to her eyes. 

“Me too.”