#marvel reader insert series

[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to. 

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.

“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house. 

“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls. 

“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You  bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you. 

Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly. 

“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows. 

You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team. 

“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly. 

Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs. 

“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back. 

With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-” 

You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same. 

Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”

You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled. 

“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder. 

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle. 

He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”

“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him. 

He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before. 

“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”

Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes. 

You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly. 

You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.

“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”

“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you. 

“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words. 

“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”

“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations. 

“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing. 

“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again. 

“Harder,” you whimper. 

Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.

The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other. 

Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”

“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial. 

“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.

“Say it,” Bucky growls.

You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”

“No, say my name.”

You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”

“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”

“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.

Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out. 

Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday. 

You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”

“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door. 

“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.

Part 2

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[pixiekiwi]

love your works! How about lokixreader (friends to lover). Where the reader decides to try to get over loki by going on a date because she thing loki doesn’t like her like that. So how loki finds out about her going out on a date and I’ll leave the rest up to you!

You Mischievous Little Thing | Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Reader

HELLOO!!! Thank you so much for this ask :3 I may have not written exactly what you were imagining, however I had a lottt of fun adding to this prompt. I also... wrote quite a bit more than I was expecting, the words just kept coming!! I hope you enjoy!! :D Reminder, asks are still open <3

Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Description: Loki finds you on a date, with another man, wearing his colors.

Warnings: Slight NSFW content, no set timeline, jealous Loki ;), feminine reader, no use of (Y/N), slight knife play.

Word count: 3.8k

mea columba: my dove

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

All Mother Frigga was not only known for being one of the smartest and beautiful women of Asgard, but also for the grand soirée’s hosted almost every other week. Typically they were hosted for events, however Frigga also loved to host gatherings for the sake of it, this being one of those times.

You had actually managed to get a date for this ball., and wasn’t an accident. Using it as an opportunity get your mind away from your childhood best friend - The Young Prince, Loki of Asgard.

You had recently come to the realization you had feelings for the man. You noticed your heartbeat would speed up at the littlest of glances, the smallest of smiles, the sweetest of looks.

How you had come to this conclusion was finding your cheeks the brightest of red in the mirror while allowing your mind to fall to the idea of the Prince. You cursed yourself that day, and cursed the God of Mischief for fooling you into these feelings.

You couldn’t help it however, his bashful smiles, his bright blue eyes that seemed to just do things to you - you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

And you knew, he did not feel the same way. I mean, he was Loki of Asgard, and you were you, of… Well, nothing really.

You had met him in the gardens when you were young. Your father was a nobleman on the war council and you had been visiting the castle for a few weeks when you had bumped into the boy. Immediately the two of you clicked, it was easy. You had the same curiosity for the world, the same mischievous and playful spirit, the same yearning to know more, to be more.

And now, centuries later, you lived in the castle. You had moved to the castle at Loki’s request, to help him with his studies to become the Crown Prince for when his brother finally was crowned. Now, you had a rightful seat at the war council - just as your father had.

It had been years of the two of you being side by side, you had become inseparable. Everyone knew it, everyone saw it.

You had both dated others, but nothing ever stuck for either of you. You didn’t mind, until you realized you had feelings for the Young Prince.

So now there you were, down in the Ball Room as hundreds of other Asgardians danced around you all the while awkwardly standing next to your date. Ironically, the only dress you had at the moment to wear was a dark green gown, laced with gold ribbon.

The man you stood beside wasn’t terrible, he was sweet, but just… Boring. It was nothing against him, he was handsome, but he didn’t get your jokes, your sarcasm, or even your compliments. It seemed he truly didn’t have a brain.

You smiled at him as he spoke about battle, in a dramatic fashion - explaining something about decapitating an enemy. You had stopped listening minutes ago, but yet you sipped your drink politely, letting your eyes wander slightly, looking for… Well you know who you were looking for. To your dismay, you had yet to see the blue eyed man.

So you moved your eyes back over to your date, whose name, you actually could not remember for the life of you. He had seemed to now be distracted by one of his friends who had come to speak to him. Seeing as they were now enthralled in a conversation, you took this as the best moment to step away.

You moved quickly, giving a quick muttered excuse to leave and moving carefully to the large banquet table. The foods and deserts upon the table made your mouth water. You reached for a rosatum, thankful for the sweetness that dissolved upon your tongue.

You let your eyes wander again, you watched as couples danced happily upon the dance floor, their lovestruck gazes never leaving each other’s. Your heart panged in an odd manner, was that jealousy? Yearning?

You didn’t know, and preferably, you didn’t want to.

As you were finishing one off of the many drinks you had tonight, you felt a pair of eyes studying you from afar.

You had grown a knack for sensing Loki from what felt like miles away. You were not one for magic, but his magic you could feel. You didn’t know why, you assumed it had something to do with the time you had spent together. However you didn’t mind, he wasn’t able to sneak up on you anymore - he had done it enough.

As your eyes snapped to his, a velvety feeling filled your lungs. A small smile crept up upon your face as you gave him a small curtsey, a running inside joke between you two.

You could see a smile creep up his expression as he bowed his head to you.

You could almost see his eyes graze your figure, but he was too far away to truly tell. Standing the upon golden steps across the room his aura bled confidence, that you could see from hundreds of feet away. He was wearing a beautiful dark green and gold suit plated with golden armor, a show of his status.

You wanted to wave him over, and you almost did - until your date grabbed your shoulder.

“You disappeared back there,” he smiled politely, pulling your attention, albeit begrudgingly, away from the Young Prince across the hall.

You didn’t see how his face fell.

“I apologize,” you smiled half-heartedly.

“I was just getting to the best part,” He laughed, his face red and flushed from alcohol, “I hadn't told you about the beheading!”

He did, a thousand times already.

You hoped your true emotions were not showing upon your face, as that would be quite rude. But truly, you could not stand to be around this man anymore. You had already listened to enough battle re-telling while on the council. You wanted to come up with some excuse to leave, maybe that you had fallen ill - but before you could even get another word out, the hairs on the back of your neck stood.

“Would you care to dance My Lady?”

You spun to the side, unaware of your date’s narrowing eyes upon the man now in front of you both.

“Loki.” you had almost gasped out in relief, he was finally here to rescue you from this horrid date.

His sharp features seemed to soften as they took you in, admiring the gown you had put yourself in. Loki’s eyes met yours again and his feathery gaze fell into an odd stoic wall you could not break through. He smiled politely at your date before holding out his arm for you to grab.

You took it willingly, wrapping your arm with his.

You didn’t even glance back to your date as Loki took you through the crowd, finding a perfect spot for the two of you to dance. You felt yourself become relaxed at the mere presence of him. His familiar oaky and leathery cologne invaded your senses, sending your heart into a frenzy of beats. His hold upon your arm was sturdy and powerful, almost as if proving something. You didn’t question it, happy you now had space between you and the man you were just with.

“A date?” The black haired man finally spoke out. His voice was solid, there was a strong lack of emotions behind his question, throwing you off.

You nodded.

“Y’know, Adrián is one of the stupidest Asgardians I’ve ever met.” He quipped. His tone was void of the typical teasing you were used to, but you smiled and laughed anyway, moving your body with his as you turned to dance with him.

“I realize that now, I actually didn’t even remember his name. I’m not sure he does either, he’s had enough mead for a lifetime.” You smiled, a genuine smile as you gazed up to Loki. Truly taking in his striking features. You had danced together time and time again before, however you always jumped at the chance to admire him. His hair was slicked back and styled, and his blue eyes almost looked green from the reflection of your clothing. “I think I could only handle the same story twice, and I have heard it enough already for a millenia.”

A small smile crept up to Loki’s face at your comment, but yet his stoic facade still stood between you and him. He spun you around once, stepping into place with the others dancing around you.

There was an odd silence between you two at this moment, it made you uneasy. Quiet was normal between you two - time spent together reading by the fire, studying in the archives, or even just spending time going on walks in and around the palace - but this quiet, it was different.

You kept your eyes on him as he failed to meet yours, “Is there something wrong?” You finally asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. You wanted to reach and brush the stray hair from his cheek back behind his ear, but you refrained.

Loki shook his head, licking his lips as he danced your body with his own. His eyes finally falling upon yours as he spoke, “It’s insulting for you to parade yourself out here in my colors, with your arm around another man.”

His words held a certain… frustration, that you could not decipher.

Your lips parted in surprise at his words, your eyes staying upon his as your eyebrows raised, “What?” A small nervous laugh escaping you.

His own eyebrow perked up, spinning you around with him as he scanned the crowd of people beside the group dancing, “Did you do it on purpose?” The irritation in his voice was certain as his eyes met yours again.

You had seen Loki frustrated before, angry even. However this was different - it was an emotion you had not seen upon the man. Your mouth went dry at the accusation, you were confused as to what he was implying - had you understood, you’d probably faint.

“I’m sorry?” You asked again, your voice still holding the nervous laugh from before. Avoiding his gaze you spoke again, “I do not understand what you are insinuating.”

While you failed to meet his gaze, you didn’t fail to notice the pink that seemed to climb up upon his neck. His own eyes flickering away from you to the crowd that surrounded you, he seemed… Nervous.

Suddenly, as if seeing something in the crowd - his eyes glowed with frustration once more before snapping to you again. He spun you around again, your gown glittering under the soft light from the chandeliers. Before pulling you close to his body, leading you two into a gentle waltz. The dancing had now become the background of your focus, giving Loki the authority to lead you was easy.

“Look at you, mea columba. You are adorned in gold and green.” Loki’s eyes scanned you up and down, a dangerous emotion flickering through his blue eyes. “You’re practically mine in those colors.”

Your eyes snapped to his blue ones in surprise. You opened your mouth to respond, but you had nothing on your mind to respond with, you were still mulling over his words in your mind.

Practically his.

You gulped as you closed your mouth, your eyes flitting from his eyes down to his lips, where a small smirk had begun to form upon them. Of course, he was playing a game with you, it seemed he always was. As your eyes met his again, you found the wall that was once there was now broken. You could see his frustration now melt into something different, confidence.

You hadn’t noticed Loki had led you both near one of the many exits of the ballroom. You now had stopped dancing, his arm still leading you two wherever he pleased. You looked around finally, seeing you had stepped past the beautiful archway leading you both down a quiet hall. You didn’t mind, the music was becoming overwhelming.

“It was the only gown that was decent enough for the ball.” The words tumbled from your lips haphazardly, it was the first response you could manage. You cursed yourself internally for drinking as much as you had. Deep down you knew that wasn’t the key to your flustered state, however it was easier to blame.

Loki’s eyebrow perked again at the excuse, leading you to an open isolated balcony looking upon the beautiful Gardens lit under the moonlight below. He turned to you, his arm unlacing with yours and taking a few steps away - keeping his eyes trained to your figure he spoke, “I thought you wore those colors for me.”

You froze, the soft chill of the wind sending shivers up your spine, or was that from him? You couldn’t tell. Swallowing thickly you moved to the edge of the balcony, looking down upon the gardens. Your nerves were on high alert, feeling his gaze upon you as you attempted to ignore him.

You couldn’t, his presence overwhelmed you in a way you couldn’t properly comprehend.

Wearing colors for him? Why would he care? Has he ever cared before?

You couldn’t recall a time where he had.

The silence enveloped the two of you, the only sound being the laughter from the ball room and the soft melody of music that echoed down the hall. Loki’s eyes fixated on you, and your own refusing to meet his. It was a silent battle of push and pull - a simple game which you knew you were losing.

You didn’t notice him pulling nervously at his fingers behind his back.

Knowing you couldn’t just let yourself lose, you pushed back. You felt confidence consume you, as you had played this game with him many times before. Straightening your posture you turned to him, your eyes finding his already upon your form.

They hadn’t left.

And finally - you spoke, bringing the silence to an end.

“I hadn’t realized you laid claim upon a color.”

As the jest fell from your lips, excitement flashed through the prince’s blue eyes. His hands falling to his sides as he moved closer. His body was now mere inches away from yours, you could feel the unusual cold chill from his body that you had grown to find comfort within. His hand reached to lift your chin, his eyes meeting yours.

It seemed as if lightning struck as they connected, your body tensed as the confidence you had just felt faltered for a moment.

A knowing smirk slowly made its way upon Loki’s face. “And anyone that wears it.”

Your breath hitched at the implication, your eyes flicking down his figure before meeting his eyes once again. You gazed at him through your eyelashes, your teeth finding your bottom lip as you returned his playful, smirk.

“Well,” You paused, taking your time to mull over your words as a certain heat rose in your lower half, “If I must, I may just have to - take it off?” You glanced away briefly, “If that pleases you,” you met his blue eyes again, “Your Highness.”

You lowered yourself into a curtsey, your head now below his abdomen. Before you could sink any lower, his cold hand grabbed your upper arm - pulling you back up to him. He was leaning over now, your faces just threads apart.

You could feel Loki’s breath upon your lips as he spoke, “Oh you mischievous little thing,” his tone low and rasping.

Lifting you and setting you upon the bench like railing of the balcony, one hand finding your lower back, his grasp the only thing between you and the gardens below sending a wave of adrenaline through you. His other hand - crawling up your leg under the flurry of skirts you adorned, your own hands finding his neck. He whispered finally, leaning over so that his lips now at your “You know I would like to do that myself.”

Stunned by his sudden actions, his declaration, and the closeness of the two of you - it had seemed as if you had suddenly lost the ability to speak. Your lips parted in surprise, his strong grasp steadying you just enough.

Your nervous gaze fell upon him - his attention fixated upon you. Your lungs shook as you took in a shuddering beeath, searching for the words to say, to continue this game.

But you couldn’t find those words, in fact, he didn’t even give you the chance to - as his lips were now on yours.

Your heart skipped eight beats at once and a small gasp escaped you. His kiss was hesitant at first, but when your eyes fluttered closed, and your hands found his hair, pulling him closer - as if giving him permission - he didn’t restrain himself any longer.

Loki’s hand on your lower back was now moving up to your shoulder blades, moving your body flush to his. The hand that resided within your skirts gripped your thigh tightly - as if he could sink claws into your warm flesh.

As he leaned closer, you broke away - your nervousness from being mere inches to the edge causing your momentous pause. Breathless and shamelessly warm, your lips parted, ready to warn him of your anxieties. His hungry eyes met yours and he spoke for you.

“You think I'd be so foolish as to let you fall?” He clicked his tongue teasingly as he spoke, “The only foolish thing I’ve done is let you be seen in this dress while not by my side.”

A wild glimmer flickered through his icy blue gaze, desperation clawed through them as they trailed down to your gown. As they flicked back up, the mischievous smirk you were used to took hold of his expression. You could see the gears turning in his mind - you knew his next actions would be bad news.

You felt yourself flush with amorous excitement.

Loki’s hand upon your back lowered once more - all the while still holding you sturdy - and his other hand loosened from your thigh. “We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong message now,” his eyebrow perked as he cocked his head to the side slightly, his tone low and commanding, but yet far from his usual Prince-like-regality, “Would we?”

You felt a cold sharp object graze where Loki’s hand once was. Your breath hitched as you heard the sharp ripping of fabrics.

Your eyes snapped down, your skirts now cut away, revealing your bare legs and a dagger gripped between Loki’s palm. As he conjured the dagger away in a fluff of green particles, feathery gasp escaped your lips at the sudden coolness of the breeze against your skin. His hand found your thigh once more - however much higher than he had before.

“Much better now,”, he pulled you against him and wrapped your legs around his lower half. His dangerous gaze never seemed to falter.

“Don’t you agree?”

You wanted to disagree, in fact you wanted to yell at him for cutting up such a beautiful gown. But hungry excitement flooded your veins.

“Loki…” You whispered out a warning. You wanted to say more, tell him that this game had gone too far - but the yearning for more clawed through your chest and down through your lower half. Something else told you this wasn’t a game anymore. Your tongue flitted over your lips - Loki’s eyes falling to them - watching as you bit back the words you truly wanted to say.

“Oh mea columba,” He practically groaned out - his voice coated with desperation, “As much as I love seeing you in gold and green, I think I’d much prefer you with nothing on.” As he spoke, his hand on your upper thigh crawled farther up - reaching the hem of your panties.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as his cold fingers played with the hem “If that pleases you, My Prince.”

As the words left you, his gaze shot to yours. His eyes glowed with hunger, so much so that even you could see that he was starving.

“What would please me, is the idea of you never wearing another man's arm -” He paused, his fingers slipping under the hem, his hand grasping the side of your hips. He lowered, his lips finding your jaw - you stretching your neck to give him access. The kisses started slowly, giving you time to move your hands around to his neck and lowering them further down his chest.

“However,” he began again - his lips now lowering down to your neck “You can wear my colors-” He stopped again, his teeth now grazing your collarbone, unbeknownst to you his piercing gaze stared up at you, “As long as I get to claim you as mine.”

You shuddered at his words, realizing this was not a game anymore. This was desire. Your hands found the back of his head once more, his once styled and slicked back hair was now a mess - his natural curls now showing through.

The goosebumps that raised on your flesh was telling enough for Loki, he smirked against your skin. Straightening himself into a stand, all the while kissing you feverishly up your neck and collarbone.

Tightening his grip upon your hip - hovering his lips just breaths away from yours he spoke, “Should we take this to my bed chambers then,” he paused, his sensual gaze now upon yours, “My lady?”

You gazed up at him through your lashes - your body warm with desperation, with the want - no - the need, for more.

“Please-” the plea was barely a word, but instead a hushed moan that you couldn’t control.

At the sound Loki’s eyes flashed - both hands now at your hips, lifting you from the railing. His arms wrapped around you, flushing you against him. You barely had time to register the green particles that surrounded you both, before your head was upon a pillow and soft silk sheets beneath you. Loki’s arm released you gently as he leaned back, now straddling you.

He whipped his hair back, brushing it away from his face as he took a steadying breath, his eyes finding yours again. You noticed he no longer wore gold armour, but just his shite undershirt and black pants that he wore underneath.

Your heart seemed to stutter as you watched him, his biceps flexing as he moved to unbutton half of his shirt. His sensual gaze looking you up and down, sending shivers through your spine, and velvet through you.

“Now,” He spoke finally, pulling your hands that laid at your sides up, above your head onto the headboard. His face now inches from yours once more, “Let’s get this torn gown off of you.”

[electric-guillotines]

An Absolute Menace

Wanda x female reader

Summary: Of course you were ovulating on a day when Wanda had to go in for what amounted to superhero office work. Obviously, the only right thing to do was make it her problem as well...

Content: 🔞 fluff, smut, mommy kink, finger sucking, dom/sub, dommy mommy wanda, enchanted strap, ovulation, dumbification, breeding (if you squint), praise and degradation

Word Count: 3, 639 Can be read below but is also available on [AO3]

This is a follow up to a previous story, Take Me Softly

You were disturbed from sleep by the press of lips against your brow and a hand gently shaking your shoulder, and despite the softness of it you can’t help but whine as you hear;

“I have to go, malysh (baby.) ”

Petulant though you were, you opened your eyes to see Wanda hovering over you, smiling so sweetly, dressed to leave, and you pouted, winding your arms around her neck.

“Don’t forget your lunch,” you murmured sleepily. “I put it on the top shelf.”

Wanda chuckled warmly at your expression. “Thank you. Always thinking of me even when you look like a kicked puppy,” she teased, stroking a finger down your nose.

Rather than fix your face, you grumbled a protest against such comparisons, only making it worse as the sound of Wanda’s laughter graced your ears again.

Warmth bloomed in your chest. 

Smiling despite yourself, you let out a dramatic sigh and flopped limply on the bed like a wilting flower. “I cannot thrive in these conditions, abandoned, alone, oh! I will wither without my hourly dose of affection, I will!”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. This is common knowledge about girlfriends.”

You could hear the smirk in Wanda’s voice, a rush of warm air tickling your skin. “Wouldn’t that apply to me?”

You looked up at her, nodding solemnly. “Which is why you should stay.”

Wanda let out a reluctant groan. “Steve insisted they need me to come in. I’m the only witch on hand after all.”

Right, the team needed Wanda’s help with something about magic.

Sighing, albeit with far less theatrics, you sat up to hug your girlfriend. “Go,” you said, kissing her cheek. “Go be amazing. I will survive. Barely.”

Wanda laughed, hugging you nearly tight enough to press the air from your lungs, like she could somehow carry the imprint of your body the rest of the day. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she assured, gently pushing you back down into the blankets, “go back to sleep, malysh (baby.) ”

You hardly needed the encouragement, drifting back into peaceful oblivion as soon as she left the room. It wasn’t until you stirred again later and stretched out in search of your absent girlfriend that the petulant yearning returned, simmering in your chest, leaden and warm.

The more you lingered in bed, contemplating the empty space beside you, the more that sour tug in your chest wormed its way down your spine, the warmth becoming heat, the yearning becoming hunger.

No.

Starvation.

Biting your lip, you rose from bed and tried to shake off the sudden longing. Despite your dramatics earlier, you were in fact an adult, capable of self-sufficiency and independence. You could get through the day without Wanda, you had been without her for longer and this would be nothing, so you showered, dressed, and went about your day.

Coffee was brewed, breakfast was had, emails were checked—the morning run was uneventful. After a quick shower, you settled into the den with your tablet, ready to pass the time by drawing whatever came to mind as you watched a guilty pleasure of yours from the late 2000s.

Lost Tapes was a speculative series centred on the existence of cryptids and folkloric creatures, using the framing device of found footage. It struck just the right mix of absurd earnestness to make it both easy background noise and a source of inspiration.

Usually, after a few episodes you would have a couple pages worth of sketch dumps, yet…

You found yourself distracted, mind wandering to dark, needy corners and nudging your hand every other pen stroke. What came to life on the tablet wasn’t a collection of monsters but a pair of tangled bodies, ravenous and sensual.

Staring down at the sketch, you chewed your lip, trying to ignore the slow burning heat in your gut.

A devious little voice in your head suggested sending the image to Wanda.

Your skin tingled.

Unconsciously, you deepened some of the details, the dip of nails into back muscles, the shine of a leather harness, the tapestry of scratches across both bodies.

The thought of Wanda pinning you down and ravishing you wasn’t a new one, but it was always one that delighted you. For whatever reason, today the thought burned through you like a grease fire spilling across the floor, dangerous and hard to control.

Swallowing, it occurred to you how sensitive your body felt. Your nerves were buzzing, the heat pulsed between your thighs, and every little movement made you painfully aware of how wet you were.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly opened the period tracking app to double check where you were in your cycle.

Of course.

You were ovulating. 

On a day when Wanda had to go in for what amounted to superhero office work.

Against the tiniest voice of reason in your head, you sent the sketch to Wanda with a text;

Did some drawing in the den, thought of you ❤️

Five minutes later, Wanda responded;

That’s quite the vivid thought you were having, malysh. The line weight is beautiful x

Tactful, composed—that wouldn’t do.

I would love to bring it to life right now, let mommy ruin me until I forget my own name, pinning me under her body as she makes me hers over and over again… 

The response took longer, the three dots stopping and starting multiple times until Wanda finally replied;

You are playing a dangerous game teasing mommy while she’s away.

All you sent in response was a heart and closed your phone. 

Determined to get through the rest of the day, you made sure to tidy up around the house, prep food for later, and do laundry, but while you took care of such domestic endeavours you continued sending messages. Little reminders of your vivid thoughts, and pictures of you throughout the day that skirted a razor fine edge between innocent and provocative.

Each time the message status changed to ‘seen’ sent a pleased little thrill through you, unconsciously clenching your thighs together and biting your lip as you waited to see if Wanda would take the bait again.

She warned you only twice more and nothing further, but Wanda kept looking at each new message, still read the words and lingered on the pictures as her icon shifted from offline to online and back again.

You knew it was getting to her and the thought of how she would be when she got home had your head feeling warm and foggy by the time you heard her keys in the door.

It was with a heavy, honey-like sense of heat in your belly that you listened for her, sitting quietly in the den. 

There was no call, no announcement of her presence in the house, she hadn’t even sent a text to tell you she was on her way back. Instead, you barely allowed yourself to breathe as you heard the light thud of her footsteps moving down the hall, the floorboards softly creaking here and there the closer she got, until finally Wanda stepped into the doorway.

Your breath caught in your throat, taking in the sight of her looming at the threshold, the bright hallway and the dim light of the cosy den leaving her partially silhouetted.

The faintest red glow lit Wanda’s eyes like embers in a campfire.

You just peered up at her, your eyes black and your limbs darkened, dressed in soft pajama shorts and a patterned red sweater that hung off one shoulder. It belonged to Wanda once upon a time, it was the first item of clothing you ever borrowed from her, and kept borrowing whenever you wanted her affection but couldn’t get it.

The weight of her presence pinned you in place, watching her approach with slow, deliberate strides until she was standing over you, eyes devouring every inch of bare skin she could see.

Finally, Wanda muttered, “you have been an absolute menace today.”

The heat in her voice made you shift on the spot.

Lifting a hand to your face, she tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, traced the curve of your cheek, and captured your chin in a firm but gentle grip.

You remained perfectly still as she leaned down until your noses almost touched, the glow of her eyes playing on your skin.

Wanda sighed, not from annoyance but in an attempt to maintain control of herself, her breath carrying the slightest tremor of energy wound tight, a coil ready to crack. “I thought you liked being my good girl.”

A whine lurched from the back of your throat. “I could not stop thinking about you,” you rushed to explain yourself, your accent thicker with the fog of your thoughts. “I felt sensitive and warm all day and I wanted you here. I am ovulating.”

The tension in Wanda softened just a little and her head slowly tilted to the side, her smouldering eyes sweeping over you with something dark and appreciative.

With gentle pressure she slid her fingers into your hair and dropped the hand holding your chin to your throat, not squeezing, simply resting there. You almost went limp in her grasp.

Wanda locked eyes with you again, calmly tilting your head back and admiring the way you arched into her touch, pliant and eager. “Ohhh,” she crooned, “my pretty little dolly just needed me so much did she?”

The playful condescension made you drip into your shorts and you squirmed, nodding

Wanda gave your hair a light tug. “Words, dolly.”

You scrambled to answer her. “Yes, Mommy, I needed you, I need you, please.”

Humming in approval, Wanda finally kissed you, slow, deep and savouring, possessive as the hold on your throat tightened just enough to be felt.

At the brush of her tongue against your lips you moaned and let her in, delighting in how eagerly she devoured you, your thoughts becoming increasingly liquid.

Wanda broke off with a shaky breath, brow pressed to yours. “I want you to go upstairs, pick out a size, and lie down on the bed,” she husked, “and don’t undress just yet, dolly.”

She pulled you to your feet effortlessly, sending you on your way with a light slap to your bottom.

You scampered upstairs to the bedroom with barely contained energy, doing exactly as Wanda asked and opening the drawer that held your joint collection of toys, a vibrant array of colours, sizes, and shapes. You picked out a girthier one than usual, grabbed the harness, and placed both on top of the drawers.

Climbing up on the cool sheets of the bed, you laid down on your stomach, knowing full well how Wanda wanted you.

It didn’t take long for her to enter the room, and though silent her presence was like a heavy fog washing over you, the weight of it secure and reassuring.

Obediently, you remained still, listening to the rustle of fabric, to metallic clinks and leather scuffs, and you could feel her approach the bed, stopping just short.

Gently, she asked, “what is your colour, malen’kiy prizrak (little ghost) ?”

You blinked slowly as the question registered. “Green, mommy,” you said, calm and clear.

Finally you felt a dip in the mattress behind you.

Wanda climbed over you, straddling your thighs. She barely gave you enough time to register her bare skin against yours before she rocked against your clothed ass, trapping the toy between your bodies.

The desperate whimper would have embarrassed you in any other situation. As it was, all you could think to do was raise your hips for her.

Leaning down, Wanda pressed flush against you, licking a searing path from your shoulder to the hollow space below your ear. She dragged her teeth against the shell of it, “you’re just a needy little slut for mommy, aren’t you, dolly?”

Heat flushed your face, her tone dripping in faux sympathy that had you trembling.

She smiled against your skin, rocking against you and letting you feel just how big the toy you’d chosen was. “All day with such big thoughts swirling around that pretty little head of yours,” Wanda cooed, “you don’t have to think any more, dolly. Mommy can do it for you, can’t she? Mommy knows what’s best for you, doesn’t she?”

Between her words and the hard length pinned against your ass, it was becoming quite hard to think anything coherent, sinking into that warm liquid haze where all you had to worry about was being her good little dolly.

Whimpering, you nodded. “Yes, mommy.”

Wanda’s hand snaked down under your belly and hooked into the waistband of your pajama shorts. She pulled until the seam rode up against your cunt, providing sudden friction to your throbbing clit.

You jolted, moaning shamelessly. “Mommy!”

Wanda ground down, forcing your hips to move and rub against your shorts.

The heat in your gut began to tighten and you clawed at the sheets, whining low in your throat.

With a dark chuckle, Wanda pulled back. “Such a naughty dolly.”

You shook your head frantically.

Wanda leaned down, stroking a hand through your hair. Her nails lazily scratched at your scalp, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine.

She looked at you with a sympathetic pout, the red glow of her eyes all but mesmerising you. “No?” she asked, sweetly mocking. “You don’t think you’ve been naughty?”

“No, mommy, please.”

“Mmh, no, you’re right, malysh.”

She sighed, kissing your hairline. “It isn’t your fault your cunt is so needy,” she said, her voice like dark honey that had your pussy clenching around nothing. “My pretty dolly is just too dumb to know what her body is doing, isn’t she? She needs Mommy to take care of it.”

The nod was automatic. “Yes, Mommy.”

Wanda kissed you, licking into your mouth as if she could sweep every last thought out of your mind with her tongue. It certainly made your head swim.

Pulling away, Wanda grabbed one of the pillows and murmured soft praise when you lifted your hips high enough to slip it under. She hooked her fingers into the back of your shorts and pulled them down just enough to expose your soaking cunt.

Wanda hissed, “ yebat (fuck) .”

You briefly heard the slick sound of lubricant being spread on the toy before the cool, rounded tip pressed against your folds, sliding down to your clit then up until it caught against your entrance.

Pressing a hand flat against the small of your back, Wanda slowly worked the toy inside, stretching you out in deliriously wonderful intervals, every inch making your breathing heavier until her hips were flush with yours and you felt delightfully full.

Wanda cursed again, her breath coming out shaky as she were trying to contain herself, and it occurred to you that she must have enchanted the strap.

Then she swivelled her hips in a lazy, stirring motion and an embarrassingly needy whimper tumbled out of you.

Shame was quite beyond you. “Please,” you begged. “Use me, Mommy, want to be your toy.”

You smiled when you heard Wanda growl above you.

Glowing threads of scarlet energy wrapped around your wrists and pulled them to the small of your back, allowing Wanda to slide a hand into your hair and push your head down against the mattress, steadying herself with her other hand on your hip.

Raggedly, Wanda said, “don’t hold back, dolly, Mommy wants to hear how much you love it when she uses you.”

There was no further warning and you wouldn’t have it any other way, crying out as Wanda began to fuck you in earnest, from deep, hard thrusts that knocked the air from your lungs to the indulgent rol and grind of her hips that had you seeing stars. You begged and moaned and babbled through it all, utterly helpless beneath her and loving every second of it.

The way you stretched around her cock over and over again, the sting of the harness against your skin each time your hips met, the fabric of the sweater riding up your body and your shorts digging into your thighs, her fingers in your hair—you could barely focus on any one sensation.

The heat built and coiled in the pit of your belly and you yelped, “mommy, close!”

Wanda dug her nails into your hip. “Go on, baby,” she urged, voice dripping with pride.

The orgasm crashed through you in shuddering waves, bright and burning and delirious, and not enough, but your mommy knew that. That’s why she didn’t stop, she continued fucking you, cooing sickly sweet praises that made you whimper and shiver in her grip.

Wanda moaned above you, her rhythm deepening, slowing. “Mommy’s going to make you forget how to walk, dolly,” she husked, emphasising her point with a particularly harsh thrust that had your eyes rolling. “Keep you here in bed, use your pretty body whenever I want.”

You flushed at her words. “Please, Mommy, fill!” you pleaded, barely grasping for what you wanted.

Wanda crooned. “My little slut, so eager for whatever Mommy gives you.”

You whined under her, trying to angle your hips so she could fuck you deeper.

She noticed, of course she did, and she laughed, the sound hungry and sweet.

Pleased, she released the magic around your wrists so she could press against your back, the hand on your hip sliding up to your throat. “Pretty little dollies like you don’t need to think, do they? They just need to take it, and you can do that, can’t you, baby?”

You opened your mouth to answer her and whatever you were going to say dissolved and dripped out your ears as her fingers slid between your lips.

Sucking on them, you let go of silly things like words or thoughts and surrendered completely, moaning as you felt Wanda’s hips stutter against you.

Warmth erupted inside you, pearlescent liquid magic like shimmering glass spilled and spilled until you could feel it dripping around the stretch of her cock.

Wanda growled against your skin, her hips picking up to go again.

Willing though you were, the position was beginning to feel a little too much, and you had just enough awareness to grab her wrist, squeezing twice.

Yellow.

Immediately she stopped and pulled her fingers from your mouth, holding your hand. “What is it, malen’kiy prizrak ?” she asked, firm and gentle.

“Need to see you, Mommy. Need to hold you.”

“Of course, thank you for telling me.”

She kissed the crown of your head and carefully withdrew, helping you turn over.

The pajama shorts were slipped off your legs and you wrapped them around Wanda’s hips, arms looping around her neck to pull her close again. The warm length of her strap rubbed up against you, nudging your clit and making you shiver.

Wanda brushed her nose against yours. “Better?”

You nodded. “Yes, Mommy.”

She smiled, her eyes soft. “Colour?”

Sliding a hand into her hair, you kissed the tip of her nose, almost shy. “Green.”

Pleased, Wanda slipped back inside, making both of you groan. 

She worked her way up to a pounding rhythm, hissing praise every time your nails raked across her back hard enough to draw blood, muttering into your ear how much she loved the way you clenched around her, whimpered for her, eager to take everything she could give you. And oh, how beautiful you were each time you unravelled, twitching and gasping beneath her, glistening with sweat, clinging to her like the only solid ground in a storm.

Sometimes she let you arch away from her, eyes falling shut as the pleasure overtook you, but other times she gripped your hair and dared you to look away, staring into your eyes and watching your face shift as you made a mess of her cock all over again, the intensity of it overwhelming in the best way.

When at last you were both exhausted, all you could feel was a heavy warmth in your belly, no longer burning and tight but the last remnants of a bonfire, smouldering down to ash, your body liquid and spent.

Registering movement above you, you tried to reach out to stop the pleasant weight on top of you from moving away, whining and pawing needily.

Red eyes settled on you. “Shhh, dolly,” Wanda soothed, brushing hair out of your eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s okay. We just need to get cleaned up.”

The tone calmed you more than the words, a collection of syllables you only vaguely grasped in your current state of exhausted bliss.

Wanda gently pulled out much to your displeasure, though the feeling of loss was quickly followed by the syrupy sensation of her magic leaking out of you, making you quake.

After removing the harness, Wanda fetched a warm washcloth and gently wiped you down, murmuring sweet praise as she did so. You sank into the feeling, letting it and the sound of her voice slowly pull you back to yourself.

Briefly, she disappeared into the bathroom again only to  return with a glass of water, coaxing you to sit up and take a drink. The cool liquid felt like it washed away some of the lingering fog.

With a sleepy smile, you nudged the glass back to her, a silent demand for her to drink as well and she did.

Finally crawling under the covers, you settled against her chest, soothed by the sound of her heart and her arms around your shoulders.

You smiled against her skin. “You were wonderful,” you whispered, snuggling closer. “Thank you.”

Wanda kissed the top of your head, squeezing you as if she could physically impart all her love by doing so. “Of course. Thank you for trusting me, malysh. "

[anonymityisfunwriter]

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

[auroralwriting]

ice ice, baby! the masterlist

the brooklyn thunderbolts and the manhattan avengers are the biggest rival hockey teams. filled with friendships, ex-friendships, relationships, and drama, no one can get enough of the rivalry; including the teams themselves.

warnings: i do not play hockey so there might be some inaccuracies, injuries, graphic language, hockey level violence, inspired by @/loveisstxnge on tiktok pairings: bucky barnes x reader (yelena belova x ava starr, bob reynolds x joaquin torres, steve rogers x natasha romanoff, tony stark x pepper potts)

introduction | chapter one | chapter two

chapter three (out soon!)

[parkers-gal]

leave you behind J.B.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

timeline: civil war (bucharest romania)

wc: 1.1k

warnings: use of 'malyshka.' not proofread

a/n: really wanted something with bucky's dog tags but didn't have any ideas so wrote this... not as fluffy as the ideas in my head...

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

romania is beautiful. you spent a year in constanta, gazing out to the black sea and discovering how to live life after fleeing america, tired of the old life you left behind. you migrated inland, settling in bucharest like millions of others in the city. 

you spent many nights learning the city, the language, and the people in it. it was how you met bucky three months ago. 

“te-ai pierdut?”

bluish steel eyes blink back at you, no response. 

you stare back at him, thinking. you try again, switching tongues because your gut tells you that he’s not from around here. “are you lost?”

a small grunt precedes his first word to you. “market.”

you nod, motioning for him to follow you out of the side street.

he follows in step quietly and almost robotically for three blocks until you reach the farmers market. it’s midday and bustling, some trying for a bargain and others window shopping the open tents. 

you let him pass you, watching as he makes his way to a fresh fruit stand. he pauses and stares at the produce and the person running the booth. 

you step forward. “do you need help? i can translate if-”

your words are cut short as the man speaks fluently to the vendor, inquiring about the various fruits. as he finishes picking and paying, you stand in slight shock a few steps behind him. he turns around, shocked to see you waited around for him. he doesn’t smile at you, but the look in his eyes tells you that he wants to. but he doesn’t.

“i’m sorry.” you say at last. “i wouldn’t have bothered you if i had known you didn’t need help.”

the man shakes his head, his long brown hair swaying as he does so. you glance to the metal laying against his chest, not quite reading the name engraved into it. 

“i’m bucky.” he offers a gloved hand. you look at it before shaking it, smiling as you introduce yourself.

you spent the rest of the day looking at the vendors together, getting lunch and talking in the park until the cold came with nightfall.

three months later, you’re back at the same farmers market, grocery shopping with the same man. you practically live together, surviving off of the pay you get from your part time job and the money bucky earns on random side quests. 

it’s not like you don’t know him – you just don’t know what he’s done, how he got to romania, why he stayed. it’ll come with time, is what you always told yourself, especially when you wanted to ask bucky to be yours officially. the term ‘boyfriend’ scares him, and you’re not sure if either of you are ready for that level of commitment. 

“meet back at the dairy shop?” you let go of his hand, ready to part into the sea of shops.

his smile is soft as he nods, kissing your hand as he releases it. you smile as you walk in the other direction, weaving through the crowd to shop. 

you pass a nearby bar, scanning the area through a propped-open door. glancing up, the news outlet displayed on the television catches your attention and you stop in place, reading the headlines. images flash across the screen, and a magnified picture of bucky pops up. the color drains from your face as you finish reading the headlines. your feet move faster than your mind, footsteps picking up as you race to find bucky in the field of people.

you weave again, almost slamming your bag into a woman as you near the next corner of the market. 

“bucky!” you call. his back is turned to you but he’s barely 20 feet from you. the sea of people doesn’t part for you and you’re forced to wait for the people to slowly depart. 

he turns around just as you reach him, his gloved hands holding a newspaper with his face on the front of it. 

“what’s happening?” tears well in your eyes as you reach for his hands. “you couldn’t have done those things. you were with me.”

he doesn’t respond but he faintly nods. his jaw clicks and he grabs your hands, dragging you away from the market and the sea of people in it. “i need to leave.”

“leave?” you stumble after him, barely able to keep up as he pulls you along. “leave where? what about me? bucky, i’m scared.”

he pulls you into an alley, bringing your hands to his chest and steadying you. “i know, malyshka. i’m-” his eyes droop in disappointment. “i’m sorry. i never should’ve let you get this close. i- i shouldn’t have risked getting you involved.”

“involved?” your brows furrow. “involved in what?” you drop your bag on the asphalt. 

“me.” his eyes search yours as you try to understand what he means. “i’m dangerous, malyshka.”

“not to me.” you reach for that familiar metal hanging around his neck, forehead resting against his. “i’ve never felt safer than with you.”

as you exhale shakily, your breath fans his face and he glances to your lips before pulling you in a deep kiss, hands cupping your head gently. 

“you need to leave.”

“what?!” the shock on your face almost breaks him. you step back in shock. bucky picks up your bag, pulling it to your arm. 

he goes through his pockets, giving you what he doesn’t need and closing your bag securely. 

“what? bucky, go where? why can’t i go with you? what’s-”

both his hands hold your face, now ungloved. the sight of the metal plates in public has you quiet. he never takes his gloves off in public, never anywhere other than the safety of your apartment. 

“y/n, i need you to focus.” he carefully pulls off his dog tags, pulling them over your head until the metal tabs rest on your chest now. “keep these safe for me, okay?”

you’re crying now. you can barely see him through wet lashes. 

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to go.” you sob. “i love you.”

the confession has bucky pausing, the pads of his thumbs wipe away your fallen tears. his lips meet your forehead in a calming kiss. 

“i know, malyshka. i… i love you too.”

more tears spill out.

“but i can’t risk losing you.” he pulls you into his chest, hugging you so tight because you both know you won’t see each other for a long while. “get out of the city. go back to constanta if you have to. just-” you feel the uncertainty in his exhale. “get as far away until it’s safe.”

you peer up at him, sniffling. “okay.” 

“i’m coming back, y/n.”

“okay.”

he kisses you again. “i won’t leave you behind.”

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

bucky masterlist

i'm thinking of writing a second part

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2700+

A/N Note: OK! Here we go! I'm excited to share this mini-series and what's to come in it. It's a lot more in-depth than I thought it would be, but I love it. I hope you do as well :) Anyway! As always, please let me know what you think, and all comments are welcome!

_____________

“And you chose those two to go on a task together? Why?” Steve exasperated, running a hand over his face as he looked over the video footage in front of them.

“Everyone else was on a mission,” Tony exclaimed. 

“That and it doesn’t matter what their petty vendettas against each other are. They’re professionals at the end of the day that better get their God damn acts together before I personally make them regret it,” Fury countered. 

“Undercover newlyweds seems like a risky assignment for them,” Nat added. “Steve and I have done it before. We can-”

“No, you can not,” Fury cut them off and clicked a button on his desk that swapped the video footage of druglords to a file slowly scrolling. “You both have an assignment I’m sending you in the next hour in correlation to this case. So without your work, theirs is pointless. Got it?”

Nat and Steve shared a quick look before the blonde gave him a curt nod for him to continue. 

Fury went on to explain how an insider of the criminal group had confirmed shipments, including hostages working as drug mules and other illegal substances that hadn’t been tested yet across US borders. A whole operation in itself, but Bucky and Y/N’s job would give them information the current insiders they had on the job weren’t able to attain. 

Y/N and Bucky’s undercover assignment was to act as newlyweds, infiltrate the front runners of the group, and try to become a proven alliance in hopes of joining the group in their ‘business’.

“So we’re on standby with information until they have leads to help our end?” Steve concluded. 

“Yes. And vice versa. You’re running tactical, and they’re running intelligence, although a mix in between,” Fury nodded, handing them a paper copy of the mission.

“And it can’t go the other way?” Nat asked. 

“Your faces have become much too well known in the last few years for it to be passable,” Tony added, arms crossed and reclined in the rolling office chair he couldn’t see to keep stationary. “Bucky doesn’t care for the public eye and has changed appearances since his run from the government, and no one can forget America’s sweetheart over here,” he motioned to Steve.  

“I’ve changed identities enough to get by,” Nat shrugged, watching the billionare carefully. 

“Yes, but Y/N’s face hasn’t graced the nationwide flatscreens nearly as much as yours,” he smiled spryly and fluttered his eyelashes. “Plus, it’s already been decided, so we’re moving on from the argument.”

“How long of an operation are we talking about here if the two have to create a relationship with the front runners of this?” Steve asked.

“Depends on how well the couple can sell it,” Fury crossed his arms. “Speaking of the couple.”

“Shove me again, and you’ll lose another limb that you’ll miss far more than that arm,” Y/N growled as she pushed past the massive body blocking her way into the meeting room. 

“There’s a thing called manners, and it’s free to use them,” Bucky grunted as she shoved him with surprising strength that made him slightly teeter. 

 The group outside of the new additions gave each other a hopeless look. 

“I give it two days,” Steve sighed, resting his head on his fist and watching them as they struggled to find the last open chair. Y/N came on top of the scrabble and shoved him again for extra measures. 

“Jackass,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind her, kicking her chair in extra annoyance. 

“Bitchass,” Y/N retorted, throwing a middle finger behind her. 

“I think you give them too much credit.” Nat let out a dry chuckle before turning to Fury. “Please, break the news to the two idiots so I can have a highlight of this night.” 

“What news?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows to Fury. She was one of the few people who didn’t show fear towards the walking intimidation of a man. 

“Your next mission,” Tony answered in a long breath. “Where you and Barnes will be known as Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky gawked and stood straighter in his spot.

“What’s the date today?” Y/N asked at the same time. 

Bucky came around from her back and gave her a worried yet disgusted look. “I’m sorry. For what reason are you worried about the date?”

She never took her eyes off Fury. “I’m just trying to clarify if it’s April 1st or not because this is a poorly done April Fools joke.” She held an equally intimidating stare at the master in front of her. 

“It’s June. You’re off by a few months,” he replied, unphased and unbreaking. 

“Then I’d like some clarification on who needs a fucking lobotomy, considering that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve heard today. And I’ve been around this dumbass for the last 12 hours already,” she jabbed a finger back at Bucky, whose nostrils were flaring. 

“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly. 

“Thanks, I like to keep it that way, Cyborg,” she replied without turning to him. “But seriously, is it you, Fury, that needs a Psych eval because there is no way in hell you thought this idea would actually work out in your favor.”

The room was silent as the two most intense people in the room had a stare-down. Eventually, Fury spoke up with a smirk on his lips. 

“You better figure the fuck out how to make it work in my favor because any other way isn’t really an option for you, Sergeant Y/L/N.” 

Before Y/N could fire another remark that would likely have put anyone else six feet in the ground, Bucky cut her off. “What’s the mission?”

Y/N finally gave Bucky her attention with a stern face freckled with annoyance. “Teacher’s pet.” Bucky made a face at her before she turned around. 

Fury went on to explain the mission on both their end and Nat and Steve’s. From the sounds of it, it was going to take months of convincing some dicks in the drug trafficking business (covering as presidents of the homeowner association club) that they wanted in on their scheme in order to get the information no one else seems to be able to steal.

“How many sundresses do you own, Y/N? Because I don’t think your rock band, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens are going to convince anyone you’re the baked-you-a-fresh-pie-as-a-hello-to-the-neighborhood-kind of wife,” he added, emphasizing the label he had already created for her undercover character.

“How are they going to take to a half-robotic husband?” She shoved his vibranium hand off the back of her chair.  

“I have technology for that,” Tony jumped in. 

“And I have your credit card for a new wardrobe, so I guess that solves both those problems,” she flashed a fake smile at Tony before crossing her arms snuggly across her chest. 

“You’re gonna have to leave that attitude at home, too,” Bucky got down to whisper in her ear, and he moved fast enough before she could sucker punch him in the face.

“Why not just arrest these two? Why go through the whole process of undercover work if we know they’re running the operation?” Y/N questioned, shifting side to side in her rolling chair as she thought aloud.

“Because there isn’t solid evidence, thanks to their associates being connected enough to cover shit up,” Fury answered. “And we believe there are multiple parties of their stature in the game. Meaning, we arrest them, the others scatter, and we risk losing a lot of information and take 20 steps back from where we’re at.” 

“Hmm,” she nodded as she stared off into a void space in the room, calculating her approach to this. 

“You’re actually considering this?” Nat asked. “I expected more of a fight.”

“I’m telling myself that it’s the drugs and possible human trafficking I’m doing this for, and tormenting Bucky along the way will be a bonus instead of a nuisance,” she replied with a weak smile like she was still in the process of convincing herself that.

“Smart,” Nat shrugged and gave an agreeable face.

“Your flights are leaving in four and a half hours, so I suggest packing your bag of necessities before we ship you off,” Tony sat up from his chair, stretching. “Any other things you need will be provided at the house already set up for you two to play the part of newlyweds. And get used to that word because it's about to become extremely annoying hearing it on repeat. Barnes, come with me to get that looking more human-like when you get a chance,” he pointed at his arm before walking out. 

Bucky scanned over the file in hand and let out a sigh. “We couldn’t get stationed at a beach somewhere in Hawaii?” 

“You’ll find the mountains rather eye-catching this time of the year,” Fury typed a few things on his desk and clasps his hands behind his back. “And you don’t have a choice either way. Dismissed.” 

___________________

Y/N’s POV

The amount of junk they had pawned off to us as “newlywed cargo” seemed excessive. Brand new appliances were still in boxes unopened, letters on them saying who had gifted them to us as our “wedding gift” littered the kitchen and entryway. 

I was currently in the guest room unpacking a box of linens and bedding in the spare closet. My mind was a hundred miles away from my physical body, but somehow, I had managed to organize the closet in a surprisingly efficient manner while on autopilot. 

“Honey,” Bucky’s voice came from the hallway, and I took advantage of the times I wasn’t being watched to roll my eyes at the pet name. Before I could respond with a snarky comment, he followed up with, “The next-door neighbors are here to introduce themselves. Wanna come say hi?” 

Showtime. 

“Be right out!” I shouted back, standing from my spot, crouched to the ground, and brushing off one of the many new sundresses now taking up space in my closet.

For clarity, it’s not that I was against them; it just wasn’t my usual taste. Though the freeness of no pants was starting to rub off on me…

Coming around the corner of the hallway to our homey new abode, I plastered an award-winning smile on my face and scanned the two individuals in front of Bucky. I gave Bucky a silent look that read, “Hey sweetheart,” to outsiders and, “The assholes in question?” to a trained eye. 

“Doll,” Bucky started, nodding his head once at my true question and matching my step to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me close for extra show. “This is Reginold and Bethanne Bauer. They’re our neighbors right across the street from us,” he introduced, adding a squeeze to my hip that I countered with a pinch to his side that he chuckled off. 

The physical touch was for show, but I knew he used it as a way to irritate me further, too. Lucky for me, it’s a two-player game. 

“Please, call me Reg,” the middle-aged man offered his hand.

The man looked like he played the role of a typical white male living in a cookie-cutter home, but his build showed he wasn’t on the unfit side of things. From the files, he was 42 years old, and he obviously had kept his health a priority because he could have been in his mid-30s, from what I gathered. 

“You must be Charlotte,” Bethanne said, jumping in when her husband didn’t release my hand in a timely manner. “My my, you’re far more beautiful up close,” she said with a sweet smile, though any woman could recognize the hint of judgment in them. 

Bethanne Bauer was a 5’6”, 38-year-old lady with darker blonde hair and a figure that showed she likely was a pilates guru who didn’t take many days off. Her Lululemon leggings and slicked-back bun confirmed this assessment. 

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I replied with a nose crinkle and a firm squeeze of my hand before drawing it back to rest on Bucky’s chest. “We appreciate you coming by and introducing yourself.” I smiled up to Bucky, who was already looking down at me (what a showman). I leaned my head in the nook of his shoulder as I turned back to them. “We were so nervous about starting over in a new state and weren’t sure what the community would be like. But everyone’s been so kind here in Montana, and you guys are just proving that point.” 

“Oh, this neighborhood is like a family,” Reg replied, keeping his eyes on me. I'd feel uneasy if I didn’t know how to disarm a man in five hundred ways, but I knew more than 500 ways to get a man like the one in front of me to grovel. “So much so, you may be under careful watch for a while,” he winked, and I forced a laugh out, Bucky pulling me closer to his side at the harmless threat. “I’m just joking with ya,” he waved off with a boisterous laugh of his own, and Bethanne rolled her eyes. 

“He thinks he’s a comedian,” she playfully patted his shoulder. “But really, if you guys need anything at all, we are just a shout away. Or, our welcome to the neighborhood gift basket has our phone numbers in it, too, if you prefer to call.” 

Off to the side, I noticed a cellophane wicker basket with baked goods, a wine bottle, and some gift cards in it. Bucky must have accepted it before I got in here.

“You all are too kind,” I gushed, putting a hand on my chest in appreciation. “See honey,” I swatted Bucky’s chest, getting a tiny grunt from him. “I told you we would find a home here. I have a good feeling about this community,” I winked back at them with a wide grin. 

I could see the studying eyes on the woman and decided to act oblivious to her assessing. 

“Can I ask y’all a quick question?” I asked, a twinge of a southern accent I hadn’t pulled in ages coming out casually. “Where is the best grocery store around here? I’ve heard mixed things about the two stores y’all have, and you guys seem to have great taste, so...” I motioned to the gift basket. 

Bethanne listed a few of the stores they go to, ones I had researched on our flight here to get a better grounding of our new home. Of course, they were the more high-end stops. Eventually, the Bauers excused themselves for a neighborhood meeting they had planned, and Bucky and I were left alone. As soon as the door shut, I moved to the kitchen to grab a notepad. 

“Have we unpacked the pens, Beau?” I asked loudly, using Bucky’s fake name, which he seemed to know why right off the bat.

“Second drawer by the fridge,” he motioned, opening the basket and going through it, our charades still continuing. 

“I had a few things we need to grab from the store and thanks to our helpful neighbors, we know the best spot now,” I mindlessly talked as I wrote on the note; Check for bugs.

A welcome basket was fine and dandy, but considering who it was from and how quick they were to be at our doorstep—not even three hours into the moving vans' pull-up—I knew the drill, and so did Bucky as he listed out aloud what was in the gift. 

“Wow, they got us Doordash gift cards,” he smiled, placing them on the marble counter. “Wanna eat in tonight? Maybe a local spot?” 

“Sounds good to me,” I hummed, coming around the island corner and placing the notebook beside it. “Oh, did you find their number? We can ask if they have any suggestions.”

Placing the pen on top of the notepad for Bucky to respond, I moved to look in the basket myself and grabbed the note they had attached to it. 

“Eat in, drink some wine, and,” he circled the word ‘bugs,’ confirming the suspicion before leaning on the counter and looking at me with communicative eyes that didn’t match his words. “Watch a movie if I can get the TV set up by then.”

“Sounds like a date,” I smiled, but the annoyance that we had to be playing our characters until we could dispose of the bug was playing in my eyes.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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[writersblockedx]

Wedded Under War: Chapter Two

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - When learning you're being pawned of to marry Bucky Barnes, you demand to join the latest meeting. Warnings - Mentions of violence, alcohol use Words - 2.4K

A/n - If anyone would like to be added to a taglist for this series, I'm happy to make one, just let me know :)

< Previous Chapter // Next Chapter > Masterlist

It hadn't taken you long for you to storm out of the office; what else had they expected from you? Your life had suddenly taken a 180. Before now, you were desperate to be a part of the real team, to fight alongside your two closest friends and brother. Instead of that, you got a marriage offer.

You wandered into Tony's living space for one thing only: his bar. One of which consisted of the most expensive aged whiskeys he could get his hands on. And while it may have only been lunch time, you found yourself severing an on the rocks rather than a sandwich. It went down much easier when you were faced with what your future could now hold.

You always liked coming to Tony's. It was spacious and modern. Despite it only made for him and Pepper, it must have had at least three other guest rooms, a party room with pool tables and a dart board. Expensive bottles of alcohol dotted in each room. The perfect place for his many extravagant parties.

"Should have known I'd find you here." A voice broke out. You spun around from the back of the bar, facing Steve as he wandered around the leather sofa to meet you. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

You shrugged, "Better than Barnes getting down on one knee." You were certain that would have ended in blood. Instead, you were forced to gaze upon the red mark which still littered Steve's cheek. "Sorry about slapping you."

He too shrugged before taking a seat at one of the barstools, "I deserved it. I should have told you what Tony was thinking." That you couldn't disagree with.

You reached for a clean glass, mixing together another whiskey for Steve. "You're my best friend. I trust you to tell me things my brother is too stupid to." You poured the drink in front of him, sliding it across the copper surface.

"Tony's not stupid," His blue pupils gazed up to your own. "He's protective."

To such, you scoffed. "Protective? Really? That's why he's pawning me off to Barnes like I'm some object."

"No, it's not like that-"

"Really?" You always admired the way Steve was able to keep the peace from within SHIELD. But, now it just seemed frustrating the way he wouldn't see your anger. "I've been begging for him to let me be involved. Instead of handing me a gun, he's handed me a ring and married me off without even asking. It feels like I'm stuck in some 1920s, sexist bullshit!" Quite frankly, you needed to get that out.

Steve practically sighed into his drink before taking a gulp. "If it's any consolation, I don't like the idea either." He offered. "But this is the way we have peace."

"Yeah, and I just have to give up my future." A price that no one else had to pay.

"Not necessarily." He hesitated with his next words, "It might open more opportunities for the job."

While that sounded enticing, you didn't believe it. "You think Barnes is gonna have me helping him out?" You may about to be his wife, but he wouldn't trust a Stark. No matter what legal name connected you.

"We can suggest it." Steve attempted to baragan. "We have a meeting later today at his manor downtown."

"Tony didn't mention that." You commented, taking another sip from your glass.

"Tony didn't want you there." Of course, he didn't. "I think you should be there."

You shook your head, "Tony doesn't want me at a meeting about how my own future." To them, this wasn't your future. It was the future of New York. It was about how they were finally going to bring peace to a city which had been at war with itself for years now. "I'll be there." You decided, chugging the rest of your drink and began to head for your own guest room.

"Y/n!" Steve yelled after you, not moving from the bar. "Don't make a scene."

You felt like if there were any time for scene, it was today.

--

Without another word to your brother or Steve, or even Natasha, you got ready for the meeting you hadn't been invited to. But was certainly one you were determined to pretend. You should have been used to it. No matter the severity of the situation, Tony never left the office door open for you to join during the most important meetings. It seemed your only way to get there was to force your foot in the door.

You exited the guest room, preparing for the argument you were sure to ignite simply by your presence. Instead, you seemed to walk right in on it. The distant sound of Steve and your brother battling against one another. "Tony, this is her future. She's right." You overheard Steve backing your corner.

You kept your figure hidden as your back pressed against the hallway wall which led out into the living area. "You saw her earlier. She's gonna waltz in there with no intention for peace. This entire solution is gonna be tarnished because she can't keep her head." Quite frankly, your definition of peace wasn't marrying Bucky Barnes.

"She deserves to be there." Steve attempted to reason.

"Not yet," You heard Tony reply, causing your eyes to roll. "Not until she's accepted this."

"You know that's never gonna happen."

You chose that as your cue to enter. The sound of your shoes hitting the wooden floors, prompting the men to gaze over at you, the words suddenly falling silent. "He's right." You finally spoke up to break their silence. "I'm not going to accept that the only reasonable solution to all of this was to pawn me off. But I want to be there."

Tony took a cautious step forward, "You can't-"

You cut him off, "No I can. You just just don't trust me to not make a scene." If you were honest, you wouldn't trust yourself either. "Look, I promise not to slap anyone." You gazed over at Steve with your words. "Even if they deserve it."

The two men glanced over at one another. A silent conversation relaying between them; one of which you still weren't a part of. "Wel,l I believe her." Came another voice from the doorway: Natasha. "We don't have time for a debate, Barnes is expecting us."

You smiled towards Natasha; at least she wanted you there. However, it still left the two men who had yet to speak. Tony finally let out a sigh and you knew you had won. He took a step forward, a finger pointed right at you. "Don't make a scene." He warned before leading the way out of his penthouse.

You were left smirking to yourself before Steve offered out his arm for you. "Happy now?" You linked your arm with his own, following Tony out with nothing but a smirk planted on your lips.

The four of you headed into the car, ready for the 30-minute drive to a place you had never been: The Barnes Manor. You'd heard about it from Natasha. Something big and fancy to fill Bucky's ego while still being close to the city - despite the fact he had several properties in the city. You watched as the metropolis skylines swiftly started to change into gated communities and suburban homes. It didn't take you long to spot Barnes' house.

At the end of the street, the biggest house there. A gate which soon opened, revealing the two henchmen stood outside the front door. A garage big enough for at least five cars with a vintage, black chevy parked out front. It was everything you expected it to be: luxury, modern, pristine.

You followed Steve out of the back seat of the car as your head gazed up at the three stories the house contained. You tried your best to act natural, to pretend this was normal to you and your rustic apartment back in the city. The truth was, you'd die for a house this big. To have the ability to have such a luxury.

Tony faced the henchmen first. He nodded and awaited the door to open. Instead, they began patting him down, searching for weapons. They pulled a gun from his inner blazer pocket, "Seriously?" Tony complained.

The henchman straighten his back, "No weapons today."

Natasha and Steve stared and looked before the woman responded. "Will Barnes and his men be following the same rules?"

Their reply was silent. You leaned over to Steve, "We're not really going in unarmed, are we?" You had to check.

Steve simply grasped his own gun and handed it over with a smile. When Natasha did the same, Steve took that as an opportunity to respond, "Just make them think we are." He answered.

So you pulled out your gun from the hem of your jeans and you too handed it over while leaving your dagger safely tucked under your sock. But the man didn't take it. Instead, he turned to look at Tony. "Who is she?"

You could have laughed; even Barnes' men hadn't expected you to be there. "I might be your boss's future wife." You answered ever so sternly before Tony had the chance.

At that, the man took the gun, gazing you up and down. He gave a nod to the other man who opened the door to the house. You barely had a chance to take in the marble floors and the floor-to-ceiling windows before Rumlow was facing you all. "This way," He started before his eyes found your own. "She's here."

You truly were getting tired of how surprised people were at your entrance. "She is." You replied.

"Not a problem is it?" Tony questioned.

Rumlow waited a moment as his gaze lingered. "Not today."

With that, the group of you followed behind Rumlow, passing the grand stairs towards the back of the house. You caught a glimpse of the outside where there was a pool situated, sunbeds and even a bar. This was a level of rich even you hadn't seen. The closest you came to it was Tony's penthouse.

When you entered the meeting room, you spotted Bucky waiting at the head chair, Sam Wilson beside him. Inside this room was different. A slick wooden table and matching chairs. Classic paintings dotted around that you wouldn't be too shocked to know were the authentic. "What took you so long?" Was the first thing you heard Barnes say as he stood from his chair.

He got his answer when his stare finally locked on to you. He had changed a little since you last saw him. His hair was longer, coming down to his neck. His face was now painted with a clean-shaved beard and a scar on his forehead that never fully healed. "Y/n," He stated as he moved closer, offering his hand for you to shake.

You stared between such an offer and Tony's expression. He was silently reminding you to be nice. So you took it, feeling his firm grip grasp your skin once again. "Barnes," You greeted.

When his touch left your own he returned to his seat, "Sit. Let's get to business."

Of course, Tony took the opposite seat to Bucky. Steve and Natasha at either side and you next to Steve. All while Rumlow slipped into the right side of Bucky.  "While the details of the wedding can be sorted out at a later date, we should begin to plan engagement dates, press releases etc-"

"Who said I agreed?" Your words cut through his like a knife. There was silence. Even from Bucky. He wasn't used to people cutting him off so ruthlessly. "I get that you all think it's the best idea, but no one's stopped to tell me what I'm gonna get out of this...partnership." You hated the word marriage. Especially when it was attached to the Barnes name.

Bucky leaned back in his chair, holding his fountain pen between his two fingers. "Look around you, little Stark. Properties, money, travel. What more do you want from this?" The nickname made you tense. It was a common one that had spread around the mobs. And God you hated it.

"Funnily enough, money isn't everything to me."

You felt Steve's knee hit yours at that. A warning for you to choose your next words wisely otherwise either Bucky or Tony might just flip; you weren't sure which was worse. "For once, this isn't about you. This isn't about us. It's about safety." Bucky snapped. "If money isn't enough for you, I should hope your life is. Because if we don't do this, you won't keep that either." He threatened and it should have scared you, but you had the Stark name. That made you untouchable at times.

His words should have stopped you from arguing, "Can't the two of you just sit here, put your egos aside and decide to have peace? Why do we have to have a wedding?"

You heard Sam laughed to himself at such. The room was quiet for a moment. All you could was watch Tony's eyes as they avoided your own, stuck facing the table. "You haven't told her, have you?" Barnes realised. "You're too protective of her, Stark." He commented.

"Told me what?" You pushed.

You felt Steve's hand fall onto your own, "Y/n-"

You snatched away from his touch, leaning your elbows against the wood of the table as you stared across at Bucky. "What?" Your tone was stern, demanding to know what your brother had hidden from you.

"We're not getting married for peace, we're getting married so we look united." He explained.

However, it did little to fill in the gaps. "What-?" You looked between Natasha and Tony who had yet to speak a word. "One of you tell me what's going on!"

Tony sighed before finally daring to meet your pupils. His next words put a shiver through your spine like nothing else ever had. "Tracksuit Mafia are back in town."

And that could only mean, "Kingpin?"

Steve nodded, "Nothing's been confirmed but we'd be stupid to assume he isn't right behind them."

The boss who slayed through cities like a sword. Taking down anything, anyone until he gained the power, leaving nothing but destruction and death. The same man who had taken the life of your parents like it was nothing. And he was on his way. Suddenly, you found that Bucky was right; this wasn't about you anymore. It was about the safety of everyone you had ever cared for. 

[vyxcondessa]

── COMING IN HOT

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

SUMMARY: When your best friend Sarah recommends a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession, and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be.

Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent type of problem.

Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

WORD COUNT: 70k; Completed.

A/N & WARNINGS: As I write the sequel to one of my favorite stories, I'm editing and sharing again the first part here. This is an Alternate Universe. Earth -1999. Mature content ahead, so minors DNI.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMASTERLISTㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTERS . ONE ; . TWO ; July 7th . THREE ; July 9th . FOUR ; July 11th . FIVE ; July 13th . SIX ; July 15th . SEVEN ; July 16th . EIGHT ; July 18th . NINE, July 20th.

[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Hi babies! I've missed you so much, here is the new chapter. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think :)

Let me know if you want to be TAGGED!

Warnings: Domestic abuse.

Words: 2.790K

Chapter Six

Bucky made the kid wear the helmet, and together they rode to 24/7 open shop, Y/N’s second job. He didn’t want to look like a predator and also didn’t want to be an asshole but he had a good excuse now. Helping the kid getting something to eat, and keeping him company was something he wanted to do and also seeing her was a cherry on top.  He only wished that Steve one day would grow up to be a nice gentleman. Once he parked the bike on the same spot he removed the helmet from the kid and helped him get off, ‘’You’re going to meet a friend of mine so be nice. She is very important to me.’’ He warned playfully and nudged him, Steve chuckled and made fun of Bucky, all he did was roll his eyes. ‘’Alright alright. Let’s go.’’

The doors opened and they walked inside the store, the fluorescent lights welcomed them first and then he watched her get up from the most likely uncomfortable chair and smile at them. Bucky could see the questioning in her eyes, ‘’Hey Steve, this is Y/N.’’ his hand was on the kid’s shoulder, they approached to the desk. ‘’Hello Steve.’’ She extended her hand to the kid, even though she looked tired Bucky could see the shine in her eyes, it was rare and he was happy to experience it. ‘’Nice to meet you ma’am.’’ Steve said as Bucky thought him once, he always told Steve to address women who were older than him as ‘’ma’am’’ even though this was modern times it was obvious that Bucky was a nostalgic man with seeking interactions from his past. Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, ‘’Nice to meet you too little man.’’ She replied with a sweet voice that Bucky wanted to record and listen to it later. ‘’Steve, why don’t you skim the aisles and find something to eat, and pick a treat for Alpine?!’’ Bucky told the kid and he just nodded and left them alone. Bucky turned back to Y/N, ‘’Alpine?’’ she asked rather curiously, ‘’My cat.’’ Bucky responded shortly. There was a pause between them, she sat back down, ‘’He seems like a nice boy.’’ She commented to get a reaction out of him, was Steve his child? His nephew? Because she had noticed the bruise on the kid’s face and she wasn’t happy about it, and the only reason she kept her calm was to not make the child uncomfortable. She knew how it could be once the wounds are recognized by a pair of peculiar eyes.

Bucky immediately picked up on that, ‘’Yeah he is, he is uh.. my neighbor’s kid. Brought him here so that he could have some break from his parents fighting.’’ He had to explain to make it clear. Y/N couldn’t believe her ears, every time she had given up on humanity someone or something would prove her otherwise and this time Bucky, the stranger she had met few weeks ago was bringing his neighbor’s kid to the store so that the kid would be away from the trauma for a while. She had this sudden urge to jump from the counter and hug him, thank him for looking out for someone without expecting anything in return. She had to put her body’s pressure on her heels so that she wouldn’t do that, ‘’That’s kind of you to look out for him.’’ She commented, her eyes on his blue ones, so easy to get lost in them so she busied herself with something on the counter. Bucky only shrugged his shoulder, didn’t know how to respond when someone, especially her made a sweet comment about something he did. They stood there in silence, before Bucky could ask or say anything a group of young men entered and Bucky stepped aside to watch to be honest… glare.

They were a group of four and in their mid 20s, probably college students. Bucky observed them and the way Y/N greeted them, she like always she had a smile but it was small and hollow not like the ones she gave him which made his chest and pants feel tighter than usual. The three of the men went to get whatever they wanted but one of them stayed to chat with her, Bucky’s hands were in the pockets of his pants, he was leaning against the near wall, glaring holes at the back of the man’s body.

‘’So… do you always work here beautiful?’’ he dared to ask her a question, he wasn’t a skinny man but not beefy either, he had golden locks and a charming smile, he was leaning slightly on the counter, ‘’Yes.’’ She replied nonchalantly, ‘’I should come here more often then.’’ The scumbag was about to lose his vocal chords if he kept talking at her like that and Bucky was happy to do it with his bare hand. ‘’Everyone is welcomed here to shop.’’ Y/N was keeping herself busy on the counter, she had always experienced something like that so it was normal to her but with a quick glance what she saw was that Bucky’s crystal blue eyes turning dark, his lips were a flat line and he looked like if she gave him the word he would jump at the guy, she felt powerful in a way but maybe she was imagining things, maybe Bucky was just waiting for Steve to finish shopping. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, every time she did that she was disappointed to her bones. The blonde guy’s friends came with snacks and packs of beer, Y/N scanned them and then one of them paid, ‘’See ya later!’’ the blonde said with a wink, she didn’t say anything, only gave him an empty smile and thankfully the group left, Bucky pushed himself from the wall he was leaning on, he approached, his boots were heavy on the white floors. ‘’Does this happen often?’’ of course it did, with a pretty face like that Bucky was surprised she wasn’t kidnapped, that thought gave him a nasty idea which he pushed away, he wanted things to be smooth and natural. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, ‘’I don’t mind, mostly they’re harmless.’’ She couldn’t face him, she couldn’t show that she was scared but she also felt somewhat safe with his presence. Bucky sighed in frustration, she had a ‘’boyfriend’’ who let her work for hours and deal with disrespectful and potentially dangerous men…. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her so hard that she would wake up from her trance but no, she had to come to him willingly. Soon Steve came with a sandwich, a juice box and a treat for Alpine. ‘’Finally found the one you like?’’ Y/N she asked as he scanned the items, ‘’Yeah, Bucky always gets me this one, it’s delicious.’’ It was true, Bucky would get that sandwich for him or give him the money to buy it as he went to school. ‘’Oh?’’ she looked at Bucky, ‘’Maybe I should try it, since you said it’s delicious.’’ Little Steve was oblivious to the chemistry between the adults so he was eager to eat his sandwich and drink his juice, Y/N got a pack of gums also but didn’t scan it, ‘’Here you go.’’ She gave the items to the little kid, ‘’I thought you might enjoy gums, it’s on me.’’ And she winked, ‘’No please-‘’ Bucky began but she silenced him, ‘’I want to, Bucky.’’ Her voice was soft and she was looking under those lashes, the way she said his name almost made him drop to his knees. ‘’Alright.’’

He raised his hands in defeat, ‘’Say thank you Steve.’’ Little kid was tearing the package of the sandwich, ‘’Thank you ma’am.’’ He said in hurry which made Y/N chuckle and Bucky liked the sound of it. ‘’How about giving me a hug?’’ Y/N asked Steve as she left the counter and came to stand before the duo, she knelt and gave him a hug, she liked children and in that moment she slightly hoped for a child but then she pulled her back to reality, Leo wasn’t interested in that, he never brought it up and when she did Leo would always say he wasn’t ready and would always bring out the negative aspects of having kids, she had given up on asking and talking about that topic long ago. ‘’See you around kid.’’ She got up and turned to Bucky who was watching the scene in awe, she was an angel and Y/N was slowly making him believe that there is still good in this world. ‘’See you around too… Bucky.’’ She addressed him, her hands on her hips,  he was trying so hard to sound normal, ‘’Yeah, see you around.’’ Bucky said, his eyes boring into her soul deeply, ‘’Let’s go Steve.’’ He reluctantly announced and they left the shop together. Bucky rolled his eyes at little Steve’s comments and helped him on the bike, he rode back to the apartment, made sure Steve got inside safe and then he gave quickly gave the treat to Alpine who was happy to see him, he pet her head and told her that he had to go back and guard Y/N’s work place, like a bodyguard.

He parked at his regular place, leaned on the bike and watched. He could see her walking inside, carry stuff, label things, he wanted to just go inside and pull her out of there, what kind of a man would let his woman work at a place like this? Or even let his woman work at all? He didn’t care if he was perceived as a cave man, that’s what he believed in. He made a mental note that if that little boy in his 20s ever came here again he was going to find his address and maybe pay a visit. He didn’t want to kill anyone but if it ever got to it then… he wouldn’t mind it since his intention would be protecting her. His blue eyes were scanning the area also, his super soldier mind calculating the fire escape route, or places to hide. A stray cat jumped from the trashcan near him and rubbed itself on his boots, he knelt down to pet the cat, it was black, long fur, it looked like a hybrid of Maine Coon. It looked the opposite of Alpine, Bucky’s cat Alpine was white as snow and this one was as black as coal. Stray animals have always been approaching him so he was used to it. Soon the cat left him, crossed the street and marched to the shop Y/N was working at, he checked his watch, her shift was over and then he looked at the shop’s door and there she was, out and feeding the black cat. So she was also a cat person like him, to find a common interest between them was a delight to him, Bucky thrived on that thought. Maybe she also wanted a cat but didn’t have the budget, or her ‘’boyfriend’’ didn’t want an animal in the house.. he rolled his eyes on that thought.

From the dark alley he was unseen by her so it gave him a comfort and a certain luxury to watch her, once she was done petting the animal she started to walk and that was his cue. He wore his helmet, got onto his bike and waited a little so that she wouldn’t be able to hear the engine, later he started to follow her like a shadow. Her routine was simple, she was going home and he knew. The city was getting louder and louder by the time sun rose to its rightful place. Bucky saw her stop for a second and looking up at her building, what was she thinking? And then with a defeat she lowered her head and walked inside. Bucky’s job was done for today.

Till next Monday Bucky couldn’t make his presence known, it would be too obvious so he lurked behind the shadows, leaned on the corners and watched her from afar. He was getting a coffee from that café closer to the flower shop, hanging around for few hours and then when it was evening he was in that same alley, leaning on his bike and making sure she had nice customers shopping there.

For Y/N the only nice day she had was when Bucky and his neighbor’s child came to the shop she was working because Leo was back at home, little happiness she had with her new acquaintances was gone and replaced with constant stress and feeling of threat. Whenever Leo took off and came back he would be in a very bad mood so they would argue a lot, she knew how to speak without provoking him but sometimes something would slip from her lips, a remark or a sarcastic comment and then she would be in danger. Tonight was one of those nights, it was Sunday and she was getting ready to sleep, Leo was drinking in the living room and she asked him to not leave any empty beer bottles on the floor because she had cut her feet early this morning, thankfully she had bandages at home but she was limping, it wasn’t going to be easy walking to her jobs for a few days. Leo, with a rush bolted to his feet and then started screaming, it was unintelligible but it was about something ’’I can do whatever I want! I live here!’’ etc. She tried to calm him down but he was getting worse and she said ‘’This isn’t your home!’’ it was true, it was her little home where she was happy and content until he came. That comment was the reason why Leo grabbed her by her throat and smashed her to the nearest wall. She was struggling for air, her hands trying to push Leo away from her but it was in vain, he was much taller and stronger than her. Soon Leo came to his senses, maybe he realized that he needed her even though she didn’t need him at all. Once she could breath normally she saw Leo walking back to the couch and finishing his beer, she slowly walked back to her bedroom and locked the door.

The next morning, Y/N had to wake up earlier than usual because she was limping and that was slowing her down. She got dressed, wore her blue jeans and a simple shirt, got her bag and left the apartment without a single sound, Leo was on the couch, snoring so she didn’t make him breakfast. On the way to the flower shop she had only one thing in her mind, Bucky. Was he going to come? Every Monday he came to purchase red roses, suddenly she wanted to hide, she wasn’t feeling well so she didn’t want to face him, his deep blue eyes seemed like they knew things about her that she didn’t even know. Maybe she could pass the rose order to Melanie, she would be very happy to attend him… and with that thought she had a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t like the idea. Y/N started working as soon as she arrived, so many orders to handle, Melanie was a bit late but Y/N wasn’t going to say  anything to their boss, she was a university student and probably had her assignments and finals draining her. ‘’Oh my God! What happened to your neck?!’’ Melanie froze as soon as she saw, in that moment Y/N cursed herself for forgetting to cover it with something, her hand instinctively went to her neck, ‘’It’s nothing..’’ she had to find something to change the subject and thankfully a customer entered. Throughout the day Y/N avoided Melanie, she kept herself busy and attended the customers, of course Melanie noticed her limping, she wanted to ask but she also felt like Y/N didn’t want to talk about it.

She dropped the topic for now. On their lunch break Y/N insisted on going to get some sandwiches but Melanie didn’t let her, she was limping so Melanie got her purse and just waltzed out of the flower shop in her long dress and wavy blonde hair, she was beautiful and Y/N noticed how the heads turned every time she entered a room, she looked healthy and happy which were the opposite of Y/N at the moment… and for a long time. Y/N sighed heavily and then jumped on the counter, waiting for Melanie, before she could react to what was happening it was too late because he had walked in.

Tag List: @pao-prazz @ruexj283 @lacey-mercylercy @idontcareforausernamesblog @the-mess-in-my-head @chiyayaa @shadyfestivalperfection @noblesoule-16

Thank you for reading. :)

[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most. Now dealing with the aftermath makes you question everything.

A/N: Hi friends! Thanks so much for your patience. We lost my mother-in-law last month and it's been a difficult time. But, I've got part two up and have got a good head start on parts 3 and 4. Hopefully updates won't be so far in between. As always, I have to say a special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby who is also my hype princess and most darling friend. I hope you enjoy!

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

In the two days since you returned to the compound, you had rarely left your room. Your body was incredibly sore the first day but it had started to lessen. You were glad the medbay kept a supply of morning after pills. Dr. Miles, your most trusted doctor, had examined you after the fact and said that you should be fully healed in a few days. The examination was a necessary requirement but it had felt like yet another invasion. 

Your emotions were a mess and the doctor had suggested a visit with a counselor to help you work through them. Now, you were starting to wonder if she had been right. Compartmentalizing wasn’t working, you had strange dreams, and your mood was all over the place. You had avoided everyone while you were off-duty to heal. The thought of facing any of them,  especially Bucky, made you sick. By now, you were sure they all knew what happened. Bucky had probably gloated that he had-

You couldn’t even finish the thought and shake it away. When you filled out the mission report, you had simply stated that there was an exposure to an unknown substance that had caused a short-lived fever. Quarantine and a battery of tests had cleared you to return home to the compound. The only person who knew what happened was Dr. Miles and Bucky, of course. Your gut clenched whenever you thought of him, which was often now. Hell, it had always been often. You had been enthralled by his story and excited to join the team. Unfortunately, he had proven to be nothing like you imagined. He seemed to hate you from the moment you were introduced. His comradery with your other teammates was fun and friendly, but with you, he was always scowling and defensive. You had given up after a few attempts at striking up a conversation. He had shut you down and moved away every time. 

And now, you’re a notch on his belt. Not that either of you had chosen it. It was just horrible luck- or was it? Had he purposely led you to that lab? Had he known what was there? What would happen? No, you stop yourself from spiraling. Even if he was a jackass, he wasn’t that kind of person. He had been just as surprised and affected. The thought of how affected he had been made you clench. You hated him but, fuck, that had been the most amazing sex of your life. You wondered if it was the drug or that thick-

Stop it! You hate him! You yell at yourself in your head. You felt concurrently turned on, ashamed, and angry. It was frustrating and eating at you. 

Thinking of eating, your stomach rumbles. It was late and you thought it would be safe to make a quick trip to the kitchen. You had exhausted the supply of snacks in your room and needed some real food. Peeking into the hall, you find it empty and quietly make your way to the kitchen. You make yourself a plate and raid the pantry for more snacks. As you were tip-toeing back to your room you saw Bucky coming out of his room at the other end of the hallway. He froze when he noticed you and watched as you made a mad dash for your room. Inside, you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. Tears streamed down your face for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint. You set everything on your desk and crumpled into a ball on the floor. You rocked as you tried to calm yourself while also berating yourself for your weakness. It was just sex. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like you wanted it or even asked for it. It was just a mutually agreed upon need. 

All your rationalizations did nothing to stop the surge of emotions taking over. So, you decided that maybe Doc was right. You needed to talk to someone. Someone to help you sort out your own feelings. You just hoped that you could feel normal again because, right now, you are not yourself.

–

Bucky stared at the space you had occupied a minute ago. He hadn’t seen you since you’d returned from the mission. You hadn’t been able to look at him in the small amount of time you were together during exfil. You’d both been put through quarantine and testing. He had no long lasting effects from the exposure but he knew you had to be bruised and sore from the experience. He felt immensely guilty about that but he could no more have stopped what was happening than you could. Sometimes he wondered if he could have even if it wasn’t for the pollen, it was the best thing he’d felt in seventy years. You were so soft, wet, and perfectly tight. 

Berating himself as he felt his body react to the memories, he reminded himself that you hate him. You had good reason to. He had been an absolute ass since you joined the team. Hethinks about his terrible behavior. He didn’t like new people to start with and then, out of seemingly nowhere, you were put with the team. It roused his suspicions and he viewed you as a potential threat. So, he had questioned your every motive, idea, and process. He wanted to hate you but the more he saw your work with the team and interactions outside of it, the more he found you intriguing. Rather than apologizing or correcting his behavior, he had doubled down. He couldn’t explain it but some small, stupid part of him had hoped that this incident would create an opening for him to reconcile with you but now you couldn't even look at him.

Who could blame you after the way he had treated you? Both before and during. He had been lost in the feeling and had stopped fighting the effects of the pollen the first moment he entered you. Hell, he hadn’t really fought it from the beginning. He had burst into that bathroom as if he had every right to enter it. You had to hate him even more now with what he’d done. He felt the need to talk to you, to apologize, to ask you to forgive him. He hadn’t told a soul what happened and had been deliberately vague in his mission report. He hadn’t wanted to make it any worse for you. 

Retreating to his room, Bucky paces trying to figure out his next move. Should he approach you or wait for you to come to him? He shakes his head. You wouldn’t approach him. Not the way you, no doubt, feel about him. You probably never wanted to see him again. What did you think? Did you hate him even more? Most likely. Did you think he had done this on purpose? That he had taken advantage of you? The drug had taken both of your ability to really consent. Did you feel… What are you feeling? He couldn’t stand the thought that you hated him even more or that you thought he hurt you purposely. 

He grabbed the doorknob, determined to speak with you but his hand slipped from it before he could turn the knob. You needed more time. He shouldn’t push you. He’d wait until you were at least healed. That was a better idea, he decided. It wasn’t that he was chickening out, he was just waiting until the wounds weren’t so fresh. That was the best thing to do, wasn’t it?

–

You nervously bounce your legs as you wait for the office door of Dr. Victoria Montesi to open. Dr. Miles had gotten you an appointment within thirty minutes of messaging her that morning. You wonder if she already had Dr. Montesi on standby. It wouldn’t be surprising with how well Doc seemed to know and anticipate your needs medically. 

When the door opens, you turn to look at the woman smiling softly at you. She was lovely with dark hair and eyes, and she radiated a calm demeanor that immediately put you at ease. 

“Hi. I’m Vicki Montesi,” she introduced herself.

Giving a polite smile, you give your name but don’t extend your hand. Touch was too intimate a thing to do currently and Dr. Montesi seemed to instinctively understand your body language. You felt so weak and hated it. You had been through major disasters, espionage, a host of events that would fell another person. Why was this the one thing that affected you so deeply? 

Dr. Montesi motioned for you to follow her and closed the door behind you softly, “Sit wherever you like. Do you mind if I take some notes?” 

“Uh, no, that's fine,” you shrug.

She grabbed a pad of paper off her desk and took a seat across from where you had settled on the couch. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing up occasionally. You knew she was waiting for you to start but two could play at-

“What brings you in today?” She interrupts your train of thought. 

“I, um,” you stuttered, thrown that she hadn’t followed the pattern you expected. “What did Dr. Miles tell you?”

“That you needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh…” you trail off suspiciously. 

“Your privacy is tantamount to both of us as your doctors,” Dr. Montesi says gently. 

“Right. So, I, um, we, I,” you stop yourself. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you begin again, “I was on a mission with a teammate. We were exposed to a powder that… forced the need for, for. Fuck! It made us burn up with fever and feel intense pain unless we were actively having sex. It felt like we were dying if we weren’t fucking. And of all the people in the fucking world it had to be with Bucky fucking Barnes. I can’t stand him and knowing that we- goddammit.” The words had become rushed and your frustration grew as you tried to explain. 

“So, you were put into a situation you had no control over, and your only relief was provided by someone you don’t like? Am I understanding you correctly?”

“Yes and hate. I hate him. He’s such a jerk, He’s probably told everyone who would listen.”

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Montesy probes. 

“Because he always undermines everything I say, anything I bring to the table. What better way to knock me down a few pegs than to tell everyone that he got me in bed?” You explain. 

“Have you spoken with him since it happened?”

“No, I haven’t really spoken to anyone since, ya know.” You look down at your hands. 

“And you feel that Bucky has after what happened?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” You scoff.

“Do you think the situation was different for him?”

“Yes! No, I… I don’t know,” you look away for a minute gauging what he could possibly be feeling. In your mind you think through your prejudices towards him, realizing many were sexist assumptions of what men are supposed to feel and others never took his past into consideration. Most of your thoughts had centered only around the hatred you felt for him and his constant attitude towards you but underneath all of that was a real person who was probably struggling with aspects of this as well. You admit in a near whisper, “Probably not.”

“It’s good that you’re able to look outside yourself. Can you tell me how you feel about the situation aside from him?”

You nod, taking a moment to assess that yourself, “It sucks to not have control over a situation to not have any good choices. I didn’t want it to happen but it’s part of the job. Sometimes you end up in these situations where no matter what you do, you’re going to come out on the other end with regrets. This one was just much more intimate than most. I want to blame someone and I keep blaming myself. That I couldn’t control myself, that I led both of us straight into that trap, that I used him and allowed him to use me. I just feel ashamed.”

“That’s common in situations like this but you did the one thing you were supposed to do. You survived.”

–

You saw Dr. Montesi again a couple of days later. She was helping you process and you appreciated it. She had a way of pulling things out of you that surprised you. Like when you continually called him Barnes rather than his first name and anytime she said his first name, you corrected her immediately. 

“There’s something more here. What is it about his name that bothers you?” She asks. 

“He… made me say it during,” you shrug, looking away. 

“Why does that bother you?”

“I never call him by his first name. It's always Barnes or asshat. Never Bucky.”

“And he made you call him Bucky?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t, you know, um… let me-”

“Orgasm?”

“Yeah, until I did. It felt… awkward,” you finish softly. 

“Just awkward?” She pushes. 

“Infuriating. Like a violation, another way control was taken from me. I mean, why? Why would he do that? What possessed him?”

“Well, the pollen for one thing, but have you considered that might have been the way he found some control in the situation?”

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t take it personally? It wasn’t about bringing me to heel but about him finding a modicum of control? But should that negate how I feel?” You ask, confused.

“Not at all. Your feelings are valid but what I want you to understand is there is a why for him that may have had nothing to do with you. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Why have you never called him by his first name?”

“Because I hate him,” you shrug. 

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“It’s like I told you before, he treats me like a subordinate. Like I didn’t earn my place and I don’t have anything to offer.”

“Even after you’ve worked together for the last several months?”

“It lessened after a while I guess but he still acts like an ass all the time.”

“How have you handled that?”

“I tried to be friendly, to prove myself, and then I gave up. Why waste the energy?”

“Is it a waste? There’s no hope?” Dr. Montesi tilts her head. 

“I mean, I don’t… I don’t know. I just… I don’t know,” your voice trails off as you think back over all your interactions with Bucky. What if you had missed an opening? Was there some point when he tried to let you in but you had closed yourself off and delivered only sass and smartass remarks? But was that your fault? Was it all up to you?

“It’s okay to not have an answer but it is something you might think about until we see each other again.”

–

You saw her again early the next week. Each time it helps you see more clearly and feel more like yourself. Her guidance through your feelings and assumptions both good or bad, right or wrong without judgment or censure allowed you to explore more than just the situation with Barnes. It was the question she had posed about his motives that had stuck with you. 

“I think I'm ready to talk to,” you pause as your stubborn nature still fights against you calling him Bucky, but Barnes seemed even less apt now. You finally settled on just using the noncommittal, “him.”

“Oh?” Dr. Montesi waits for you to elaborate.

“I feel like I need to know his motives and feelings,” the last word was hard to push past your lips. You hadn't considered his feelings ever really. At least, not since he had proven himself to be a royal jackass. There was still a part of you that loathed him but somehow concern for his reaction to all of this had wormed its way into your mind. 

“What do you think that will do for you?” She asks, tilting her head.

“I don't know. I read his mission report on what happened. He was even more vague than I was on the details. Whether he was protecting himself or me, I wasn't sure but,” you take a deep breath before admitting the next part, “then I went through the other reports for missions we had been on together. He's always succinct but never fails to highlight others' contributions to the outcome. Even mine. It was obvious reading them that at some point he had started to see me as an asset. So, I guess, I think it'll give me some closure. Either we can start building a more respectful comradery or that's never going to happen and it's time for me to think about moving on.”

“How would that make you feel?”

“Disappointed but I want to be part of a team that has mutual respect for each other. If he can never give me that respect, I don't want to work with him. I'm not asking to be friends, just teammates. Preferably ones who can hold a conversation without all the snark.” You paused for a moment as a feeling of pride suffused through you. You were stronger than you realized and you were ready to find happiness and fulfillment on your terms. You smiled to yourself and then looked up to share it with Dr. Montesi. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt you could see it in her eyes, too. 

When you left her office a little while later, you pulled out your phone and sent a short text. 

You: Hey. Can we talk?

It was only a few minutes later that your phone dings. 

You let out a little laugh. That was probably the most civilized conversation the two of you had ever had. You started feeling the nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation but you needed it to happen. It was time to face this head on. As you make your way, you practice breathing techniques and make mental notes of what you wanted to say and ask. You even jotted a few down to help you remember when you know you're going into an emotional situation. 

Barnes: Yeah. On the phone or do you want to meet up?

You: I’d prefer face to face.

Barnes: Where? I can come to you. 

You: I’m on my way back there. I’ll come to you.

Barnes: Okay.

There is still the confusion in your own head of what to call him. Such a simple thing but rife with emotion for you. Barnes was what you called him because you hated him and now you weren’t sure you did. James is his first name but no one calls him that. Bucky felt too friendly and intimate especially when it triggers reminders of that night every time you even think about it. Sergeant was too formal and felt harsh and rigid. Asshat was fitting when he was being one but you could hardly call him that all the time. You think back to what he calls you but, in just the way you have, he calls you by your last name mostly. You don’t ever recall hearing him say your first name. Occasionally, your designation and more than a few times he’s referred to you as “pita.” His way of calling you “pain in the ass.” You let out a scoffing laugh when you think of that and then shake the conundrum away. Maybe after this talk, you’d figure out what to call him or you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore if you decided to move on. 

Part 3

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[electric-guillotines]

Dolls Are For Playing With

WandaNat x Female Reader

Summary: You flushed lightly, blurting out, “I think I really like Tasha.”

A mischievous light entered Wanda’s eyes at that and she leaned forward, lowering her voice to something teasing and conspiratorial. “Oh, Tasha? Is that what we call her now?”

Content: 🔞 Fluff, light angst, praise and degradation, mommy kink, Dom/sub, enchanted strap, dumbification, Natasha is "Auntie Tasha" during playtime, mild age play if you squint, aftercare

Word Count: 5,856 Also available on [AO3]

Part 3 of "Her Lovely Shadow" series

Ever since the two of you settled in Sleepy Hollow, Wanda began hosting get togethers for her female friends, most of them people you at least knew in passing, and all of them rendering you helplessly outnumbered by a pack of dommes who loved nothing more than flustering you with playful banter.

More often than not, those evenings left you feeling small and pliant, and Wanda didn’t discourage you from feeling that way, at least when it was appropriate. She made sure you knew it wasn’t to be expected of you just because you were, for the most part, a submissive. Your boundaries were paramount. But if you happened to feel softer and quieter around those friends that wasn’t anything to feel guilty about.

It took a while to get used to others playfully teasing and cooing over you like an adorable treat, so at odds with your own self-image no matter how beloved Wanda made you feel. Now, you looked forward to seeing them, happy to soak up the attention.

Pepper was almost always the first to show up, elegant, put together, and relieved to truly relax for once. She was the most like Wanda with you, sweet and doting, but always conscientious about touch and what you were comfortable with.

Next was usually Natasha, confident and casual, already familiar. She was comfortable, safe, and yet a source of increasingly confused feelings, the one Wanda gave the most slack when it came to you.

Maria tended to arrive with or just after Natasha. Quieter than the others, she seemed to take the most joy in catching you unawares with a sly comment.

Carol was always last, making up for any tardiness with a platter of baklava after learning it was your favourite. She would wink as she handed it over, like she was sharing a secret with you.

Despite the collective teasing it often brought, you enjoyed the gatherings not only because the company was great, but because the atmosphere of understanding and acceptance put you at total ease. No one batted an eye if you felt the need to snuggle in Wanda’s lap, and if they did comment it was out of affection, sending your Mommy knowing smiles or cooing over your clinginess.

For the most part, it didn’t go further than teasing remarks. If it did, Wanda wasn’t above getting territorial, touching you with deliberate, bruising purpose that left your knees weak and your cunt dripping, all the while her eyes were fixed on the offending individual. You flushed red whenever it happened, yet you couldn’t help but feel giddy over it, and there were never any hard feelings when all was said and done. It was just easy , and while you’d grown comfortable with all of them you were especially fond of Natasha.

Natasha who happened to be the exception to that territorial response, who could get away with familiar touches, hugs, and even a cuddle if Wanda was dealing with something in the kitchen.

It occurred to you that perhaps, at some point along the way, certain wires had gotten crossed in your brain, and the moment it occurred to you was during a particularly frustrating session in the gym.

The problem started when you shared feelings of discontent with your fighting techniques one evening. The last mission had seen you forced into a close quarters brawl and though you survived it wasn’t without significant bruising both to your body and your pride.

Wanda had smoothed her hand across your brow, tucking some loose hair behind your ear.

“Oh, dorogaya (darling), you know Natasha would help if you only asked her. She hated seeing you like that as much as I did.”

The suggestion was so simple you felt a little embarrassed for not thinking of it sooner.

Truthfully, the thought had occurred to you, swiftly shanked and stuffed in a closet by the aforementioned bruised pride. But Wanda was right, for all her worry and fussing on the way home, Natasha was eerily quiet, checking you for breaks with the utmost care, her gentleness catching you off-guard.

Of course, when you approached her Natasha was more than happy to help work on your weak areas and you trusted her. She was a teammate and a friend, it just made sense to feel comfortable around her, defer to her superior rank and knowledge, follow her lead—it’s what you did on missions when paired and it’s what you did in training.

Embarrassing was the only word for it as you hit the mats with a damp thud, your legs swept out from under you in a move you should have seen coming.

With an annoyed huff, you sat on your knees, hands clenched in your lap as you replayed the last few seconds in your mind and immediately noted at least three things you’d done wrong.

“That’s alright,” said Natasha, a little breathless. “Take a minute to breathe.”

She was so certain, standing over you in the same tight fitting gym clothes as you with every perfectly sculpted muscle glistening in sweat and looking so much more at ease, so much more capable .

Your stomach curdled with something sour.

The voice of your old ‘instructor’ back in Hydra flitted through your mind, as harsh and unforgiving as his boot on your neck, berating your mistakes, your shortcomings, how pathetic and embarrassing you were for not meeting their standards.

With no small amount of effort, you pushed the memory down.

”I’m not getting this,” you sighed, picking at the hem of your shorts. 

Natasha shook her head. “You know improvement doesn’t happen overnight,” she said, measured and understanding. “It takes time, malen’kiy prizrak (little ghost.)“

The moniker was meant to soothe, to mollify, yet it only highlighted how useless you were being.

How pathetic, to need such coddling over a mistake you shouldn’t have made to begin with.

Worthless .

Bitterly, you muttered, “and I am a waste of yours.”

Warm fingers lifted your chin, holding you like steel wrapped in velvet, immovable and gentle at the same time, and found yourself staring up at Natasha with a look you had never seen on her face before.

Her jaw was tight, the line of her lips flat and humourless and her eyes were sharp and bright, piercing like a scalpel poised against the jugular.

It made your spine straighten.

She searched your eyes, letting you sit in the sudden heaviness wrapping around you. “No,” she said, low and firm. “No, you aren’t. I never want to hear you say that again, do you understand me?”

The words caught in your throat.

It wasn’t suffocating, the weight, rather it felt grounding, like being held from all angles, fixed to this point in time and space. Everything else fell out of focus, leaving only the warmth where her fingers held your chin and the intensity of her eyes.

Natasha’s brows raised. “I said, do you understand me?” She repeated, still in that hard, quiet tone of voice that should have made you cower if not for the obvious tenderness behind it.

Swallowing thickly, you wet your lips and answered her with a soft, “yes.”

When she continued to stare, you spoke again, louder. “Yes, I understand.”

Natasha searched your eyes again, scrutinising, looking for a sign you didn’t mean it. You did, you didn’t want to upset her, and on some level you knew what you said was both unwarranted and cruel.

Finally, Natasha relaxed and the piercing steel of her eyes softened. She brushed her thumb across your chin, a small gesture of affection. ���You’ll get it right, it just takes time. Now, are you going to behave?”

With a hasty nod, you tried to hold on to some kind of coherent thought and Natasha pulled you to your feet. The rest of the session passed in a mild haze you didn’t fully shake off until you hit the showers, and Natasha was never far, only leaving you to your own devices once she was sure you’d had something to eat and drink.

She squeezed your shoulder, smiling apologetically as she encouraged you to head home. “You did good today.”

You murmured a thank you and watched her leave, the lingering warmth of her touch curling in your chest.

---

Upon returning home, Wanda seemed more attentive than usual, like she expected to find you out of sorts.

Sitting down with you at the kitchen island with a fresh pot of tea, she laid her hand over yours, brushing her thumb across your knuckles.

“How was your session with Natasha?” she asked gently.

Her eyes were warm and soft, yet intense in a way that made you want to melt into her presence.

“It was…good,” you said, a little lost. “Nat was good with me. Patient.”

Wanda hummed encouragingly.

Taking a breath, you tried to articulate yourself better. “I got frustrated with myself and she corrected me,” you said, meeting Wanda’s understanding stare. “She was gentle. Held my chin and told me to stop beating myself up.”

She tilted her head slightly, stroking the back of your hand in slow circles. “And were you okay with that, malysh (baby)?”

Rather than rush to answer, you took a moment to consider how the interaction had made you feel. Not negatively, you knew that much, quite the opposite and that brought with it a wealth of other feelings.

Taking a breath, you nodded. “Yes. I felt safe.”

Wanda smiled, eyes sparkling with pride as you gave yourself space to think it through. “I’m glad you felt safe, thank you for telling me.”

You flushed lightly, blurting out, “I think I really like Tasha.”

A mischievous light entered Wanda’s eyes at that and she leaned forward, lowering her voice to something teasing and conspiratorial. “Oh, Tasha ? Is that what we call her now?”

Blushing, you looked away and started chewing your lip.

Wanda lifted her hand to your jaw, thumb brushing across your chin. “Tch, none of that,” she chided gently. “Look at me.”

You met her gaze without hesitation, making her smile, a little smug. “Tasha is very pretty, isn’t she, dolly?” Wanda teased, adoring the way you squirmed.

Helplessly, you nodded.

Wanda grinned like a fox who’d caught the hens. “How would you feel if she could see what a good little toy you are for me?”

The thought was like a pulse through your body, making your heart jump and an ache settle between your shifting thighs.

A tiny whine escaped your throat.

Chuckling, Wanda slid from her chair to move closer, pressing light kisses across your brow, your cheeks, your nose. “Words, baby,” she urged quietly, “how does that thought make you feel ?”

You wet your lips, trying to filter out the fuzz rapidly building between your thoughts. “Excited,” you whispered. “Nervous. Shy. Wet.”

Wanda leaned back enough to meet your hazy stare, her expression softening. “Then we should talk about this when you’re feeling a little more grounded,” she said, cupping your face with a care meant for spun glass. “What do you need from me, sweetheart?”

Feeling a little restless, you bunched your hands in the soft fabric of her blouse. “Jammies in the den?”

She laughed softly, kissing your hairline. “And all the cuddles you could ever need, malyshka (little one .)”

---

You did talk about it, of course, thoroughly, and you knew Wanda discreetly discussed the matter with Natasha.

That didn’t make you any less nervous the next time Wanda hosted, welcoming everyone in for a night of movies, wine, and decadent snacks.

While the den was a preferred location, it was small and cosy, and the living room was much more practical for an entire group to comfortably fit, not that it stopped Wanda from trapping you between her and Natasha. You half expected to be teased within an inch of your life only for Natasha to flash you a soft smile and Wanda to casually lay her arm around your shoulders, both actions anchoring you to the immovable fact that you were genuinely cherished.

After that, the rest of the night was easy as you relaxed, snuggling between them, enjoying the atmosphere as jokes and commentary flew at the film's expense.

Eventually, the evening wound down and as guests began to leave you took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, saying your goodbyes as you passed.

The cold water on your face was a relief, bringing back some clarity for the conversation you knew was going to happen.

Wanda had already spoken to Natasha separately. Doubtless, Natasha would be the last to leave tonight.

If she left at all.

Heat bloomed low in your stomach.

Taking a grounding breath, you finished drying your hands and stepped out into the hall.

You found them in the kitchen, standing close enough that they looked positively conspiratorial , like they were scheming together, and that thought sent a heady shiver down your spine.

Wanda spotted you first and made a ‘come hither’ gesture, her smile so disarming that you almost forgot your nerves.

“There you are,” she murmured. She slid an arm around your waist and kissed your brow. “It’s time for that talk, malysh (baby.) ”

You glanced up at Natasha to see a gentle look on her face you’d never seen before, open and warm in a way that immediately put you at ease, soothing the butterflies in your stomach.

“Okay,” you said.

Leading you into the den, Wanda sat down and pulled you into her lap so you were sitting sideways, easily able to see Natasha at the other end of the corner couch and allow Wanda to stroke your back.

“Firstly,” Natasha started, “thank you for trusting me, both of you.”

You nodded, as did Wanda, and she continued, “secondly, I want to be clear that whatever way this goes, it’ll be done at the pace you’re comfortable with. And, if you decide this isn’t what you want, there will be absolutely no awkwardness or hard feelings. Your comfort is paramount.”

A small smile turned your lips. “Thank you, Tasha.”

Her brows raised ever so slightly at the name, and she smiled.

Wanda smirked, brushing some hair behind your ear. “Now is that the name you want to use?” she teased.

You shivered, shyly ducking your head. “Thank you, Auntie Tasha,” you mumbled, heart pounding against your ribs.

Wanda gently forced your head up. “It’s rude not to look at someone when you address them,” she whispered, her warmth breath on your neck making you twitch.

The heat in your belly was warm and thick like honey as you raised your eyes to look at Natasha properly again. “Thank you, Auntie Tasha,” you said without looking away, loud enough to be heard clearly.

Natasha didn’t look surprised in the slightest, the smile on her face shifting to a playful smirk. “Of course, kukolka (little doll) ,” she purred, a hint of condescension dripping into her raspy voice, “Mommy’s polite little girl, hmm?”

Swallowing thickly, you tried to keep your thoughts somewhat coherent and looked at Wanda.

She tilted her head at your imploring expression. “What is it, malyshka (little one )?” she asked warmly, running her finger down the bridge of your nose in a gesture that immediately soothed you.

Gathering yourself, you glanced across at Natasha. “Can Auntie Tasha stay tonight?”

Wanda and Natasha shared a look, before Wanda asked, “would you like that?”

You looked at her and nodded firmly, feeling a little bolder. “Yes, Mommy,” you said, and turned your head to give Natasha your best doe eyes, “I want her to see you fuck me.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, from Wanda or Natasha you weren’t sure but it was probably both of them, the tension in the room suddenly feeling like the jaws of a beartrap about to snap shut, and you were quite happily poking the trigger, willing it to close on you.

Natasha’s eyes darkened, locked onto yours with a hunger you hadn’t seen before.

Warm lips brushed your throat. You shivered, clutching at Wanda tighter, your hips jolted in search of friction. The tingling between your thighs had become a persistent ache.

Pulling herself away from your neck, Wanda asked, “boundaries, malysh (baby.) Do you only want Natasha to watch us?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Wanda rubbed at the small of your back. “I know you have an idea in that adorable little head of yours,” she said encouragingly. “Let us hear it.”

You hurried to speak before your nerves could get the better of you. “I want Auntie Tasha to warm me up before I ride you, Mommy. Want to kiss her while you fuck me.”

Heat burned its way up your neck as the words escaped. “W-would you like that?” you asked quickly.

Wanda hummed with satisfaction. “Oh, I would, dolly , I would,” she husked.

Natasha leaned forward on her knees, her dark eyes more intense than ever. “Dirty girl,” she said, her tone somewhere between teasing and ravenous, “I would love that.”

Carefully grabbing your chin, Wanda brought your eyes back to her. “You remember what to do if you want to slow down or stop?”

Nodding, you answered firmly, “traffic lights, and my safeword is Basilisk.”

It was a word you could never forget and even saying it now made your shoulders tense, bringing a shot of clarity to your thoughts. The codename Hydra used for you when you were still just a weapon, an experiment. No one but the people involved in your rescue had that information, the public knew you by the alias ‘Revenant,’ so this was the only time you would hear it. Cold, startling, and immediately anchoring.

Wanda’s expression softened, like she was looking at something impossibly delicate, held you like something delicate, and kissed the tip of your nose. “Thank you, dorogaya (darling).”

A warm feeling fluttered through your chest, light and soothing, easing the tension in your shoulders. You pressed close, kissing Wanda properly, sliding your hands up her neck and into her hair, sliding your tongue between her lips and drawing a low moan from her.

After a moment, Wanda broke the kiss and smirked. “Now, now, dolly,” she said, “you wanted Auntie Tasha to get you ready for me didn’t you?”

Blushing, you looked over at Natasha, who was now reclining, watching the two of you with a mix of amusement and desire.

She lifted her chin with a smirk and made a ‘come hither’ motion. “Come here, printsessa (princess.) ”

The command hooked somewhere low in your stomach, Natasha’s voice low and coaxing, like honeyed smoke, and you easily got up from Wanda’s lap to stand in front of Natasha, unsure if she wanted you in hers or standing.

Natasha held out her hand like she was offering to help a princess down from the carriage.

Taking her hand, you sank down and straddled her. It wasn’t a new experience to be so close after training and fighting alongside her, that wasn’t what made your heart flutter, it was the way her eyes dropped to your lips.

Her hands slid confidently up your thighs and pulled you closer by the hips, slipping over your waist, the dip of your spine—the firm pressure of Natasha’s hand on the back of your neck almost made you go limp. Instead you leaned in and kissed her, grasping at her leather jacket.

Natasha kissed you at an indulgent, unhurried pace, taking the time to savour this new experience. She slowly kneaded at the back of your neck, helping you relax against her.

You couldn’t help your soft moan at her touch and the moment it escaped her tongue slipped between your lips, the silky sweep of it sending your thoughts into a tailspin.

Just as you began to need air, she pulled back, briefly catching your bottom lip between her teeth. She dragged them down the line of your jaw, nibbling and kissing her way to your throat.

You whined, sliding your hands into her hair so you could pull her against you.

She nearly growled, making you tremble. “Oh, I would mark you, kotenok (kitten,)” she sighed, “but your Mommy would be very upset with me. You don’t want that do you?”

Looking over your shoulder, you were met by the sight of Wanda casually lounging in lingerie, faint red wisps lingering around her body, and your cunt throbbed. The lingerie was sheer and silky, the black material stark against her pale skin, and your eyes were immediately drawn to the scarlet strap-on jutting between her thighs that almost seemed to pulse with its own unearthly light–you knew immediately what she’d done.

Gracefully, she rose from her place on the couch and leaned over you, trapping you between their bodies as she pulled Natasha into a fiery kiss.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from their lips, watching Wanda plunder Natasha’s mouth with such ease that you briefly imagined Natasha on her knees for your Mommy. Wanda casually resting a hand on Natasha’s throat only reinforced that particular little fantasy.

Pulling away, Wanda smiled down at Natasha, who looked more than happy with her position. “You are both very overdressed,��� Wanda husked, “shall we change that?”

You and Natasha hurried to agree, and in a sweeping rush of red energy both of you were rendered naked.

A shiver of delight ran through you feeling Wanda pressed against your bare back and Natasha’s breasts against your own, your thoughts scattering as they caught up with the sight of her naked body beneath you.

You whimpered, squirming between them. “Please,” you begged, “need you both.”

Natasha chuckled softly. “It’s okay, kukolka (little doll) . Mommy will take care of you soon,” she soothed, slowly moving her hands down your body, teasing your breasts and rubbing your nipples in slow circles with her thumbs. “We just have to make sure you’re ready for her don’t we?”

Nodding helplessly, you whimpered and moaned as Natasha pinched your nipples hard enough to make your spine straighten. One hand she returned to your neck for stability, the other slid further down, skating across the lithe muscles of your stomach and finally meeting the soaking heat between your thighs.

Her fingers slipped through your folds, gathering your wetness and rubbing it over your throbbing clit. “Oh, your little dolly is very needy, Wands,” Natasha crooned. “Her pussy is just begging for Mommy’s cock.”

The words made you flush all over again and you whined, hips rocking in search of more relief.

Natasha grinned, pressing harder on your clit in slow, rough circles that made you tremble between them, arousal starting to drip down your thighs.

Wanda’s hands moved down your shoulders and the slope of your back, nails dragging against your skin just hard enough to raise red lines in their wake. You relaxed at the warmth of her palms sliding into place around your waist, holding you steady just as Natasha leaned in to kiss you again.

With the two of them on you you couldn’t decide where to focus your attention, pulled between the newness of Natasha and the comforting familiarity of Wanda, it was making your head spin. Not that you could do anything about it—you didn’t want to.

Something big and firm pressed between your thighs, making you squeak and cling to Natasha. You canted your hips and felt a pleasurable rush down your spine when Wanda chuckled darkly, murmuring praise you heard as intent more than words, your thoughts becoming loose and soupy.

Wanda slowly rocked her hips, grinding the strap against your slick cunt, the ridges catching against your swollen clit and making you moan into Natasha’s mouth.

Breaking off, Natasha trailed kisses down your jaw and softly bit at your ear. “Hold still, kotenok (kitten) ,” she said, sliding a hand into your hair and gripping just hard enough to keep you in place as she lavished your tender neck with attention.

You trembled but did as you were told, trying not to squirm and buck and whine for them to fuck you already. You knew if you were good you’d get what you needed, and you so desperately wanted to be good for them, even if it meant fighting your own body so you didn’t try to take Wanda’s strap before she decided to give it to you.

Wanda laughed, leaning close so her lips were next to your ear. “You’re trying so hard, dolly,” she teased, all faux sympathy, “what a good little slut you are.”

Heat rushed to your face. Your thoughts were so easy for her to hear in this state, but you trusted her completely, you knew you were safe, so all you had for her was love.

With a telling softness, Wanda kissed your temple. “I love you too , ” she whispered.

Straightening up, Wanda slid her hands down to your hips, kneading appreciatively at the swell of your ass before she carefully guided the strap to your dripping entrance. It slipped in easily, stretching you open in one long, slow push that left you trembling in Natasha’s lap, whimpering when Wanda finally bottomed out.

Natasha smirked at the slack look of pleasure on your face. “Oh, does that feel good, printsessa (princess) ?” she purred, lazily toying with your clit.

You could barely find the words to answer her and Wanda didn’t give you the chance, withdrawing only to thrust back inside hard enough to force a keen from your lips.

Her pace was steady and forceful, your eyes beginning to roll back each time she plunged into you, hitting a spot that had you clenching hard around her. Wanda growled at the sensation, pulling you back to meet her thrusts, the smack of skin on skin easily filling the small space of the den.

At a tug on your hair you refocused to find Natasha staring at you mesmerised, a lazy smile on her face. “Is Mommy making you feel good?” she teased, sweet and condescending at the same time. In a clearer headspace you might have assumed Wanda told her what effect that tone had on you, as it was all you could do was nod dumbly, whimpering and moaning as Wanda fucked every last thought out of your head.

Natasha chuckled. “Are you gonna cum on Mommy’s cock like a good little slut?”

The tightening in your belly certainly said so, but you knew better than that, quickly babbling, “please may I cum? Mommy, can I cum, please, please, please?”

Wanda dug her nails into your hips. You could hear the smirk in her voice when she said, “I don’t know, dolly. What does Auntie Tasha think?”

Desperately, you wrapped your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, doing your best to focus and look at her pleadingly.

Natasha cupped your face in her hands, staring at you like an intricate treasure she could spend hours appreciating.

The tension in your belly was only getting worse. “Please, Auntie Tasha,” you begged, “please may I cum?”

She pretended to think about it, watching every little twitch and shudder as you got closer to falling apart between them despite your best efforts to hold on. “Of course you can, kukolka (little doll),” she purred, “give me a show.”

And you did, babbling your ‘thank yous,’ your eyes rolling back, your spine arching, and the tension in your belly finally snapping, rippling through your body from head and curling toes like fire in your veins. Wetness gushed around the stretch of Wanda’s cock, your walls milking her length and making her groan, her hips stuttering against you.

Growling, Wanda fucked you harder, prolonging your orgasm while she chased her own, hissing what a filthy girl you were, so desperate for Mommy to fill you.

Natasha echoed the sentiment, “the little whore wants to feel Mommy’s cum dripping out of her needy cunt, doesn’t she?”

You keened, unable to find the words, clutching Natasha’s shoulders like an anchor in a storm.

Finally, Wanda bottomed out with a snarl, rocking into your ass as her cock throbbed inside you, spilling silken heat against your fluttering walls until it started to leak, glassy and shimmering.

You had a moment to breathe, sagging against Natasha who stroked up and down your back, kissing the top of your head soothingly. “You’re so beautiful when you fall apart, printsessa (princess) ,” she murmured.

Wanda gently pulled out, rubbing your hips when you whimpered at the emptiness. “You did so well, malysh (baby).”

A single coherent thought passed through your head and you grabbed it immediately, looking over your shoulder at Wanda. “Mommy, can Auntie Tasha fill me too?” you asked, far too innocently for what you were saying.

Both women inhaled at that, a beat of silence passing between them.

Natasha raised a brow at Wanda, silently deferring to her, and Wanda smirked. “Of course she can, sweet girl,” she said.

They easily manoeuvred you between them, Wanda reclining in the corner of the couch with her thighs spread and you nestled between them, her hand in your hair as she brought your mouth to her cock.

She smiled sweetly at you, “you made such a mess of Mommy, malyshka (little one), it’s only right that you clean up after yourself.”

You were more than happy to open your mouth for her, letting her slide her cock passed your lips and set the pace as you diligently licked and sucked all traces of yourself from the warm silicone.

Wanda lifted her free hand, scarlet energy snaking across her fingers.

Behind you, there was a brief flash of red and your heart jumped, moaning around Wanda with excitement.

She chuckled, staring down at you with adoration and just a hint of sadism in her eyes. “Yes, dolly,” she said, adjusting her grip on your hair. “Auntie Tasha is going to fuck your needy little cunt now.”

The head of Natasha’s strap found your entrance, soaked and still dripping with the syrupy magic Wanda left behind. She found no resistance when she started to push, slipping inside you so easily that she bottomed out in one swooping motion.

Both of you groaned and some distant corner of your mind wondered if this was the first time Natasha got to feel it, but now wasn’t the time for thoughts, quite the opposite.

With your hips raised and a cushion placed beneath them, you relaxed completely with Wanda’s hand in your hair and Natasha’s on your waist, both of them moving you as they wished, using your body for their pleasure.

Wet, muffled noises escaped you as she guided your head up and down her cock, sucking at the tip and rubbing your tongue against the underside when she had you all the way down. All the while she cooed at you, equal parts mocking and sweet, “aw, is dolly’s head all fuzzy?”

Words were impossible so you hummed in agreement, staring up at her with glazed, adoring eyes.

Natasha growled a quiet curse in Russian, thrusting with a steady, pounding rhythm that had the heat in your belly stoked higher and higher. Even with the new sensation, she was careful, methodical, paying attention to every shift of your body, any cues from Wanda that this was too much, only getting rougher when you canted your hips so she could fuck you harder.

Wanda smiled darkly, giving your hair a light tug and sending a tremble through your body. “Are you just a mindless little slut for us?” she teased.

You moaned loudly at that, sucking harder on her cock and making her breath hitch.

Panting slightly, Wanda held your head still and began rocking up into your mouth. “She’s such a pretty toy, isn’t she, Nat?” she hissed, her lips curling in a satisfied sneer, her eyes glowing with a faint red light you wanted to lose yourself in.

Natasha wrapped her arms around your waist, leaning down until she was flush against your back as she drove her hips into you. “ Prekrasnaya printsessa ,” she said raggedly, “ ty sozdana dlya nas (beautiful princess, you are made for us.)”

Whoever came first it didn’t really matter, one set off another, and another. All you knew or felt was a bone melting heat rushing through your body, happily swallowing what Wanda gave you, feeling Natasha throb inside you and fill your cunt with more pearlescent cum. Every nerve felt electrified and you shuddered between them, loose-limbed and hazy without a single clear thought passing through your mind.

When it finally calmed, you went slack, utterly worn out.

If they spoke you didn’t notice, all you really paid attention to were the gentle touches, the soft, soothing tone they spoke with to you as they gently extricate themselves from your body and began to take care of it. Soft, slender fingers stroked through your hair, and firm, calloused hands slowly rubbed up and down your back.

The second pair of hands withdrew when you responded to a question with a hum, recognising the intent rather than the words themselves.

A warm damp cloth began to wipe the sweat from your skin and you whined when you were encouraged to roll onto your back, clinging to Wanda whose lap you were in.

She leaned down until her hair fell in a red curtain around your faces, touching her nose to yours. “You did so well for us, sweetheart,” she said warmly, “you were perfect.”

You jumped slightly when you felt the cloth gently clean the slick mess between your thighs, whimpering from the sensitivity.

Wanda hushed you softly, kissing your brow. “It’s okay, malysh (baby) , just Tasha taking care of you just like I do.”

You blinked sleepily, looking down to see Natasha doing exactly that. When your eyes met she smiled so kindly it made your heart flutter, her stare utterly disarming like she was looking at a tired kitten.

Natasha set the cloth aside and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your stomach. “All done, malen’kiy prizrak (little  ghost) ,” she said fondly.

Lifting your arms, you made grabby motions at her, prompting her to glance at Wanda who just grinned. “I should have warned you,” she said with no trace of apology, “aftercare cuddles are mandatory.”

Natasha rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Alright, just let me grab us some water and snacks first,” she said, smiling down at you, “can you be a good girl and wait a little longer for me?”

You pouted but let your arms drop, grumpily twisting to hide your face in Wanda’s stomach. “Okay,” you mumbled.

Natasha got up on slightly unsteady legs and disappeared to the kitchen.

Glancing up at Wanda, you found her watching you with amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Did you have fun, malyshka (little one)? ”

You nodded vigorously. “Yes! Did you, Mommy? Did Tasha?"

She smiled, scrunching her nose at you as she leaned down to kiss your brow again. “I did, malysh (baby)," she said, "and why don't you ask her when she comes back? But I think you know the answer already."

[anonymityisfunwriter]

To Know Him Is To Love Him

summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.

Anon's 1K Celebration

to know him is to love him.

to know him is to stand by him.

to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.

to know him is to hope that one day he'll finally see.

to know him is to be broken by him.

you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.

three months ago...

you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.

you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.

"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."

"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.

"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."

your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"

"you know what i meant. you're my friend."

you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.

"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."

two months ago...

"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."

"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."

"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"

"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.

"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.

steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.

sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."

you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."

"soulmate?" sam teases.

you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.

how blind can he be?

one month ago...

"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."

"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"

you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."

"please, i need you."

putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.

his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.

you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.

you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.

to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.

he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.

you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.

you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."

"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."

his best girl.

he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.

"i missed you so much."

you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."

"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."

you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."

an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"

you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."

"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."

"i understand."

2 weeks ago...

you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.

each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.

you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.

in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.

time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.

you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.

still, he sought you out.

you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.

you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.

at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.

your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.

"steve?"

"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."

"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"

"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."

you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."

"thank you," he sighs in relief.

"what happened?"

"the worst date of my life."

you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.

and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"

"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."

you suck in a breath, "steve..."

these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.

suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.

and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.

you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.

"steve.." you sigh against his lips.

and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."

you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"

"i should go."

and he leaves without another word.

your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.

1 week ago...

he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.

to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.

he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.

"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.

you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.

you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."

you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.

now...

you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.

the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.

"steve," you try to interrupt.

"and all i want -"

"steve."

"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"

"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."

his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"

"you know why," you spit at him.

"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."

"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."

"i don't understand."

"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."

"they why do you answer the phone?"

"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."

"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"

"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."

"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.

a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."

"before? before what?"

each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."

"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."

"and then you kissed me!"

he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."

"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."

"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."

your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."

steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."

"why did you call me the other night?"

"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."

"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."

he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."

you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"

"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."

"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."

"i do love you."

you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."

"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."

"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."

he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."

"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."

steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."

you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."

"please," steve begs.

"goodbye, steve."

you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.

a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.

to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.

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[auroralwriting]

ice ice, baby! chapter one

pairings: hockey player!bucky barnes x hockey player!reader

summary: the first game of the season doesn't go so well for either teams, regardless of who won

warnings: i do not play hockey so there might be some inaccuracies, injuries, graphic language, hockey level violence

: ̗̀➛ series masterlist | masterlist

It was too early, the ice was too cold, and everyone looked like they hadn’t slept properly since the game.

Which was fair. Because they hadn’t.

Practice was mandatory. Alexei made that very clear. He hadn’t yelled after the loss — just muttered something in Russian and slammed the whiteboard into the wall. Now, two days later, the punishment had arrived in the form of a full-ice workout that felt more like boot camp than hockey training.

“Move your feet, Barnes!” Alexei shouted across the rink, smacking his stick against the boards. “What is this? A fashion show? You skate like you’re modeling your regret!”

Bucky grunted and dug harder into his stride, hair stuck to his forehead, sweat stinging his eyes. “I think he likes me,” he muttered.

You skated beside him, barely winded, grinning through the burn in your thighs. “He’s obsessed with you. I’m starting to feel jealous.” He didn’t laugh, but the look he shot you was something of affection.

On the other end of the rink, Ava skated laps with her jaw tight and her eyes sharp. She hadn’t said a word since lacing up. Yelena followed her like a shadow, deliberately skating just a few strides behind, like she wasn’t watching her—but she was.

“You’re avoiding me,” Yelena finally said, loud enough for Ava to hear.

“I’m skating,” Ava shot back.

“Skating with vengeance.”

“Maybe I’m just focused.”

“You’re never just anything,” Yelena said quietly.

Bob was on stick-handling drills with Walker, and it was... not going well. “Why do you hold your stick like that?” Bob asked, baffled.

Walker scowled. “Like what?”

“Like it’s a lightsaber and you’re about to duel Obi-Wan.”

“I played defense in high school, man. Give me a break.”

“You’re in the NHL. No breaks.”

Across the ice, Alexei blew his whistle three times. Everyone groaned in unison. “Line change drills!” he called. “We’re gonna do it until you stop looking like a group project gone wrong!”

Everyone dropped to the benches.

Ava was the first to sigh, "This sucks."

"We suck," Yelena corrected, rolling her head to help stretch out her neck better.

You sighed, tongue in cheek. "We do not suck. We're in the NHL for a reason, y'know. We're in our heads or something, I don't know. We don't normally play like this. I mean, Walker, I've never seen you trip over your own skates more than the last two times we've been on the ice," John gave a small shrug. "Ava, I don't think I've ever seen you lose the puck before now, either."

"It's losing me, actually," Ava mumbled a soft defense.

"I mean, come on, guys! We're the Thunderbolts!" you exclaimed, standing up. "We have fans all over! Instagram fan pages and twitter update accounts. I mean, we're sort of fucking celebrities. We are far from losers, and we're far from bad."

Bucky, who had been silent until now, sitting on the bench with his elbows on his knees and his gloves dangling between them, looked up slowly. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead, his expression unreadable in that classic Bucky Barnes way. But his voice, when he finally spoke, was softer than usual — measured.

“We are the Thunderbolts,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we’re untouchable. Doesn’t mean we’re immune to messing up.” He exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking toward the scratched-up ice. “We’re in our heads. You’re right. We’ve all got something going on. And I don’t think a single one of us is talking about it.”

He looked over at Ava, then Yelena, then Walker, and finally back to you.

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t care. That game… it sucked. Not because we lost, but because we didn’t lose together. We fell apart in six different directions instead of holding the line.”

You sat slowly, meeting his gaze. “So what? We just keep skating until it clicks again?”

“No,” Yelena said suddenly. “We skate and we start acting like we’re on the same side again.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that to me or—”

Yelena didn’t look at her. “To everyone.”

“Cool,” Walker muttered, rubbing his jaw. “I’ll try not to bodycheck Bucky in warm-ups next time.”

“I would appreciate that,” Bucky said dryly.

Bob leaned forward, squinting. “Wait, are we having a… group therapy moment right now? Like, are we emotionally maturing as a team?”

“We’re venting,” you corrected. “Therapy costs money.”

“Well then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “My name is Bob, and I have unresolved tension with every one of you.”

That cracked the tension just enough for someone — Yelena, probably — to snort. And then Ava, quietly, “Okay, fine. I have been distracted. But it’s temporary. I’ll get over it.” Yelena looked up at her, but didn’t push.

Walker shrugged. “I keep tripping because I’ve got new skates. Or maybe it’s karma.”

Bucky gave him a look. “It’s definitely karma.”

And you? You stood again, this time calmer. “Look, we’re not perfect. We’re probably not even okay right now. But we’re us. And that’s still something worth skating for.”

There was a pause. Then Bob raised a hand. “Can we make that a team motto? ‘Not perfect, not okay, but still skating.’”

Yelena pointed at him. “Print that on a shirt.”

And just like that, for the first time in days, something inside the room felt lighter.

"Hey," Bucky said as he skated over to you, slow and easy, the toe of his blade scraping the ice just enough to announce his presence without fanfare. You were leaning against the boards near center ice, watching the rest of the team lazily skate out their cooldown laps. Your arms were crossed, breathing finally steady.

"Nice speech you gave earlier," he added. "Really inspiring."

You chuckled, half-sarcastic, half-flattered. “Just wanted to air out my thoughts, I guess. Before we all internally combust.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said. He came to a slow stop beside you, resting one gloved hand on the boards. “I think you stopped Yelena from murdering Walker today. That’s worth something.”

“Small victories,” you said, smiling faintly. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, just heavy. Familiar.

You and Bucky always had something… unspoken. It lived in glances that lasted a second too long, in the way he always seemed to skate a little closer to you during drills, in the way you always heard his voice first when the team got loud. The way he defended you if anyone got too close — like Clint had in the previous game. It was in the pauses. In the quiet. In how neither of you pushed the other to name it.

“I meant it, though,” he said after a moment. “We don’t play like that usually. We’re not… like that. Off. Disconnected.”

“No,” you agreed. “We usually feel like… us.”

Bucky nodded, but he was still watching you instead of the ice. His eyes were clear, a little tired, but focused—on you, like you were something worth figuring out.

You looked back at him, one brow raised. “What?”

He shook his head slowly. “Nothing. Just… you ever have one of those moments where you’re realizing something that’s probably been true for a long time?”

Your heart did that stupid little lurch thing it did sometimes when he looked at you like that. Like he already knew something he wasn’t sure how to say.

“Maybe,” you said carefully, your voice quieter now. “You realizing something now?”

He glanced away for a second, then back to you. “Maybe.”

You let the silence stretch again. You didn’t want to break it — not with a joke, not with a question. It felt fragile in a way that meant it mattered.

Bucky finally pushed off the boards, slowly skating backward, giving you one last look over his shoulder.

“You skate like you believe what you said,” he called. “That we’re not bad. That we’re still us.”

You straightened. “Because I do.”

He nodded. “Then I’ll follow your lead.”

"Funny coming from the Captain," you mused, leaning against the wall a little heavier. More relaxed than before — Bucky had that effect. "But I guess I'll take it."

"Yeah, very funny," Bucky replied sarcastically. "But I'll still make you do drills when Alexei is out." You stuck out your tongue at him teasingly, to which he laughed and gently shoved your shoulder. "Alright, guys! Come're," Bucky called to the others who were skating around the rink, laughing and joking together.

The sound of blades carving through ice slowly faded as the team drifted toward center, half-hearted grumbles mixed with laughter trailing behind them. They were tired — sore, bruised, mentally frayed — but for the first time since game night, they were something close to whole again.

Bob was the first to arrive, still catching his breath from the sprint. “Please tell me we’re not doing more suicides. I will physically lie down on this ice and become one with it.”

“We’re not,” Bucky said, amused, “unless you keep talking.”

Yelena pulled up beside Ava with a theatrical groan. “You called us over here just to bully Bob?”

“I call that community bonding,” Walker muttered.

Ava looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. It looked almost like a smile. Almost.

Once everyone had gathered, Bucky shifted slightly — not stiff, not overly formal, but there was something steady about the way he stood. Natural. Like being at the center of this team wasn’t something he asked for, but something that kept happening anyway.

“Look,” he started, voice low and even, “I know we’ve all been off lately. That first game… it wasn’t just messy. It was weird. And I don’t think any of us felt like ourselves out there.”

He glanced at you briefly — just a flicker — and then out across the rest of the team.

“But today? You showed up. Even with sore legs, bad attitudes, and Walker’s tragic new skates—”

“Hey,” Walker snapped. “They’re broken in now.”

“They were born broken,” Bob mumbled.

Bucky smiled. “Point is, we’re not perfect. We never have been. But we don’t have to be. We just have to be together.”

A beat. Then you added, softly but firmly, “We play better when we remember we like each other.”

“That’s debatable,” Yelena said, but she nudged Ava’s skate with her own.

“I like some of you,” Bob offered helpfully.

“I tolerate most of you,” Ava deadpanned.

Walker just nodded. “I guess this is what friendship sounds like.”

The group slowly shifted, loose and warm, laughter bubbling to the surface again like the first hints of spring after a long winter.

Bucky skated closer to you again, bumping your glove with his.

“You really believe in us?” he asked, voice too quiet for anyone else.

You looked at him, steady. “Always have.”

His eyes softened. “Then we’ll be fine.”

And with that, he turned to the team. “Alright — hit the showers, hydrate, and maybe ice your entire body.”

Yelena raised a fist. “Team stretch in the locker room?”

“No,” everyone said in unison.

As the team scattered, you and Bucky lingered behind. The rink was emptying, echoing with the last fading sounds of blades on ice, gear clinking, and laughter trailing through the tunnel.

He looked at you, eyes warmer now than they had been in days. “I meant what I said,” he said quietly.

You tilted your head. “About following my lead?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I trust you.”

And for Bucky Barnes, that was everything.

The city air hit different after a late skate. Cooler. Quieter. The kind of chill that settled into your hoodie and burned gently at your cheeks, but not enough to make you want to go inside just yet.

The sidewalks were damp, shimmering under streetlights, and traffic hummed far off like it was respecting the peace Brooklyn had finally found.

Bucky walked beside you, bag slung over one shoulder, gloves tucked into his pockets. You had your hands shoved into your hoodie, still slightly sore from gripping your stick too tight during drills. Neither of you had said much since leaving the rink — not because there was nothing to say, but because some silences just felt good.

“I can’t feel my thighs,” you said finally.

Bucky let out a low chuckle. “That’s how you know practice worked.”

“Or that Alexei’s training regimen is a hate crime.”

“Honestly, could be both.”

You glanced sideways at him. His hair was damp, curling slightly at the edges. He hadn’t bothered to put on a hat, like the cold didn’t bother him, or maybe like he didn’t even notice. His stride was relaxed, but there was a quiet alertness in his posture, like he was always keeping an eye out—on the street, on the shadows, maybe on you.

“You didn’t have to walk me,” you said, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“I wanted to.”

You let that sit for a second, surprised by how warm it made your chest feel. “Thanks,” you murmured. “For earlier. You pulled everyone back together when it could’ve all gone sideways.”

“You’re the one who made the speech,” he said, glancing at you with a small smile. “I just… reminded them who we are.”

“You reminded me too.”

That made him pause a little. Just a hitch in his step. “Yeah?”

You nodded, slowing as you reached your building. “You’re good at that, you know. Pulling people in without making it look like you’re trying.”

He looked at you for a long moment. The kind that makes your heart beat just a little too loud. “I do try,” he said, voice low. “Especially with you.”

You swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. The porch light flickered overhead. The world felt very still. There it was again, that unspoken something. That current running between you two that had always been there, but never really named.

“I’m glad we’re on the same team,” you said finally.

Bucky’s smile softened. “Me too.”

A pause.

Then, “I should let you get some rest.”

You stepped back toward your door, but hesitated. “Bucky?” He looked up.

“Do you ever think maybe... this—” You gestured between the two of you, suddenly unsure. “—should be something we talk about?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “All the time.”

You breathed in slowly. “And?” You wanted to hear his next words more than anything, but they also scared you a little, too. Bucky also had that effect — exciting you and scaring you at the same time. He was a little older, more experienced, and incredibly handsome.

“And I’m not rushing it. But I’m not walking away, either.”

You smiled, small but honest. “Okay.”

Bucky stepped back, hands in his pockets again, eyes gentle in the lamplight. “Goodnight, Rookie.”

“Goodnight, Captain.”

And as he turned and walked back down the sidewalk, you watched him go — heart steady, steps slower — already knowing this wasn’t the end of anything. It was the beginning.

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bucky taglist: @shortandb1tchy @xoxpetals @crazyangel222 @messrkarmaismygf13

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part five❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?

♡ Warnings: self hate, mentions of parent death/family death, panic attack, heavy angst, fluff, literally sobbing i love them

Part 6

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

It was almost becoming a mantra, reminding himself daily that he needed to keep things strictly professional. He just didn’t realize how hard it would be. You were so easy to be around, it was a different change of pace with you, he felt he could actually think— slow his mind down around you.

He had tried to digest the thought many times.

I could be her friend, nothing more.

Would it be unprofessional though? He tries to think how Pierce would react to that. He feels completely and utterly confused— the devil and angel on his shoulders battling constantly.

Even then, he was already a bad friend— if that. He was keeping something from you— something extreme. He had caught himself thinking of where you could be in the house— the part of him deep down wanting to tell you. He knew he should, but he knew that’s not what Pierce wanted. If anything, Bucky didn’t want to mess anything up— or he’d never see you again. The thought shouldn’t of scared him as much as it did, but he didn’t like it.

That’s where he found himself in the bathroom of his room, staring into his own eyes through the reflection. He had showered and caught himself trying to find a nice shirt amongst his clothes— immediately he stopped. He had to take a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself how ridiculous he was being.

It had been so long since he actually cared about his appearance. But as he was scanning every line and wrinkle on his face in the mirror— he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt insecure, and for once it wasn’t about his arm. His mind was consumed with the thought if he was good enough. While he felt overwhelmed, because he had never worried about such a thing. Well, in awhile at least.

You had kept yourself busy in the library for most of the day, and while you looked to be buried into the books— your thoughts were of him. You couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that his words gave you— his want to get to know you better. Maybe, just maybe— he wanted to be your friend.

Just as you were about to get up and leave to seek out Bucky, you heard the sound of the library doors opening. A smile worked its way onto your face, excited to see him— though you had just seen him not that long ago.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the space, and soon revealed a handsome looking Bucky. Your mouth hung slightly open, his appearance looking sharper than usual. He was wearing his classic black shirt, and had the black leather jacket over— along with his jeans that hugged him just right in all the areas. He wasn’t dressed all that different, so why did he look so good.

You cleared your throat and broke your stare— yes he looked good. But you shouldn’t stare.

“You look great James, I wish I would’ve put something better on.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts— along with your different colored socks.

Bucky on the other hand, thought you looked fine. He was pretty sure you could wear pretty much anything and look good in it. He also shook off your compliment, thinking you were just being sweet like you always were.

“You look fine, (Y/n).” He assured you.

Truthfully, standing here in front of you now— Bucky wants nothing more than to go back upstairs, choosing to avoid getting to know you better. He wasn’t sure why his walls were coming down so easily, but he hated it. Oh he hated it— he hated you.

“So…” You started, walking back to your seat. Bucky followed after and took his spot from the nights before. “I know this kinda takes the fun out of this but— I had a list of questions.”

Bucky shook his head but chuckled lowly, not surprised at all.

“Of course you do.” He acknowledged, and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

“Uh— but there are rules! I made them up of course— but there aren’t many.” You rushed out, sitting crisscrossed in your seat.

Bucky exhaled annoyed, but couldn’t really argue otherwise. This was his idea. Was it to distract you from going out? Yes. But a part of him really did want to get to know you better.

“Alright, what’s the rules?” He asked, crossing his leg over the other— leaning back in his seat.

“Okay the first one— you have to answer the question that’s asked, no matter what.” You told him, watching him raise his eyebrows.

“Easy.”

You giggled, remembering how fast the conversation ended last time because he didn’t want to answer. This would be harder than he thought— but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

“Second rule— Can’t ask dumb questions.” You told him, and he chuckled again.

“That’s the second rule?” He chuckled, and you nodded your head.

“Yup.” You confirmed, “Okay— who should go first?”

You were ready to jump right into it, while Bucky was still thinking about your rules— rethinking his decision to do this.

“Why don’t you start doll, since you apparently have a list.” He spoke sarcastically, and you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname.

He never called you that before, and you didn’t know what to think of it.

“Um… okay yeah,” You thought about your first question, deciding to go easy on him at first, “What’s something you like to do on your free time?”

Bucky squinted his eyes, expecting a more personal question from you. He also had to think for a second— what did he like to do? He used to have hobbies at one time, but he couldn’t recall any in the moment. He felt he was a pretty boring person. There was one thing.

“I like to read sometimes.” He answered, and you smiled at that.

“Really? You don’t seem to spend a lot of time in the library for someone who likes to read.” You joked— knowing he was rather busy with his job as a bodyguard.

“Well, if I had free time— I’d probably be here.” He pointed out, slowly melting into his seat, his muscles relaxing against the couch.

“Okay your turn.” You told him.

Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he as well had a list of questions for you. Things he was dying to know about you.

“What do you want to do in the future?” He asked, and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

“What’s your dream job— like, what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Besides read.” He added at the end, making you giggle.

You thought about your answer for a moment, smiling to yourself when you came up with one.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever stay in one spot, there’s so much I want to do. But whatever happens, I wanna volunteer places. I want to help people— help them heal, cope. I just wanna do good.” You explained happily.

Bucky was not surprised by your answer by the slightest— of course you wanted to be helpful. It only made sense with your bubbly personality. He cleared his throat, fighting down a smile.

“Your turn again.”

You nodded and took a second to think of a question again, closing your eyes in thought. An idea popped into your head and you were hesitant about it. Last time you’d brought it up— he left.

“What’s your family like?” You asked anyway, keeping your voice soft in hopes he’d feel more comfortable.

Bucky tensed immediately and just glared at you for a second. His jaw clenched, and his eyes squinted at you. He was annoyed at you pestering him with this question— he’d answer every single one but this one. He’d play dirty if you were.

“My family… isn’t around anymore.” He answered quietly, his anger lacing his words.

His tone had you swallowing nervously, and deep down you regretted asking him. You didn’t mean any harm by the question, and you immediately felt bad. Your heart hurt for him, the way he didn’t have a family.

“I— James I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t o—”

You tried to apologize but got cut off.

“My turn.” He interrupted, sitting up in his seat now. His whole body tense again, his relaxed muscles no more. “Why does your Father hate you?”

He couldn’t stop himself from letting the words out, but as soon as they passed his lips— he was ashamed of himself. His face softened immediately at your face dropping, the way your fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the hem of your shirt.

You were shocked— at a loss for words. You probably deserved his anger, but you weren’t expecting such a harsh question. You felt your chest tighten, and suddenly you weren’t in denial anymore. Everything you’d ever thought— the nights you wondered if your Father really did hate you. You pushed away with a laugh, knowing he could never. But now as someone else witnessed it, and pointed it out. It ought to be true— and you felt sick.

“Um… He’s just having a h-hard time with the passing of my…” You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighter than usual. “Hard time with my mothers passing is all.”

You repeated from the first day meeting him. Your head pounded— your ears thumping loudly. Your fingers were numb and you felt like you couldn’t swallow.

Were you having an allergic reaction to something?

You tried to take another deep breath and felt your chest stop expanding. Your eyes widened in panic for a second.

Bucky felt so shitty— he couldn’t control himself for a simple question. The fact that you had answered it anyway broke his heart. He watched as your eyes darted around, in search of help. The way he could start to hear your breathing— the way you were beginning to wheeze.

“(Y/n), you ok—”

“Excuse m-me for a s-second.” You rushed out, stumbling out of your chair and towards the library doors.

Bucky was concerned for you, standing up immediately to go follow you. He was so ashamed of himself, angry that he let himself lose control like that. He had sensitive topics that just brought up a defensive side in him. The image of your face as soon as he had said the words was burned into his brain. You didn’t deserve that— you had been nothing be sweet since you two had met.

Making it up the stairs, he started down the hallway— body tensing in alert at the sight of you sitting up against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, kneeling down to your curled up form, scanning over you for injuries.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked frantic, he noticed your hand clutching the area above your heart.

You shook your head, but seemed confused— and only panicked more when you couldn’t get the words out right away.

“I c-can’t breathe!” You wheezed out, your hand not clutching your chest— reaching out to grab onto Bucky.

You held onto him like he was your lifeline.

“I-I think I’m having a-an allergic reaction.” You panted, fisting Bucky’s sleeve in panic.

Bucky didn’t know it was possible for his heart to break anymore— but he swore he heard the cracking sound. He felt it drop to his stomach, his own throat tightening with emotions. You were having a panic attack— and it was because of him. You had no idea, and yet here you were still clinging onto him when he was the cause of it all. He was disgusted with himself.

“(Y/n)— you’re not having an allergic reaction. You’re having a panic attack.” He explained to you clearly, holding onto your shoulders, trying to bring you comfort.

You nodded in understanding, feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen to the brain. Tears began to escape your eyes, you felt helpless— you felt like you were dying.

“James…” You whimpered, “I’m s-scared!”

Again, he felt his non existent heart break again— falling into his stomach. He felt sick watching this go down, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a nightmare.

He had experience with panic attacks and luckily knew what to do— he just couldn’t get over the fact that he caused it.

He grabbed your hand fisting his sleeve and put it above his heart. You lifted your flushed face, your bloodshot eyes watching your hand. You could feel the strong thump of his heartbeat, the feeling soothing against your palm.

“I want you to try and breathe with me, okay? I want you to match my heartbeat. You feel it?” He asked you softly, his voice gentle like honey.

You nodded your head, trying to focus on slowing your breathing— stop your chaotic mind from spiraling.

“In… and out— In… and out.” He started breathing, and you struggled to match him at first, but as your eyes met with his— you felt your heartbeat start to match his rhythm.

His eyes were comforting and warm. You felt safe in his hold— and you could already start to feel your everything relaxing.

“Good, just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you— you’re gonna be okay.” He assured you, rubbing your shoulders up and down soothingly.

You knew you’d be risking it, but you slowly moved forward— wrapping your arms around his bulky frame.

Bucky tensed up at first, a part of him knowing he should push you away— this wasn’t professional. But he knew he couldn’t— not after what he did. He relaxed, and wrapped his arms hesitantly around your back, hugging you tight against him. He could feel your quick heartbeat thumping competitively against his. He could feel your breath fanning his neck— as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck.

He hadn’t felt such affection in so long— he had missed how much he craved the protection— the security he felt being in someone’s arms.

Now, in Bucky’s hold— you felt at peace. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. You still trusted him with your life.

“Doll,” You smiled weakly into his neck, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t of asked you that— I’m an asshole.”

You held onto him tighter— enjoying the embrace while you had it. You were sure it would never happen again.

“It’s okay James, I’m sorry too.” You weakly replied, your body drained of energy. “Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”

He wanted to scoff. You wanted to thank him for helping you out of a mess that he caused. You had the right to scream, punch, kick him. But he knew you’d never do that— and that’s what killed him.

He didn’t know how to respond to your thanks, and stayed silent instead. Holding onto you— never intending to let go until you did first.

“I’m tired James.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I’ve got you doll.” He whispered, easily standing with you in his arms.

He slowly and carefully carried you to your room, setting you down gently onto your bed. He was having déjà vu— memories of when he first carried you to bed that one night.

He lifted the covers, tucking you in. He watched you for a second, examining your face like you were a piece of art. His eyes danced all the way from your chin— passed your lips— to your eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. You sighed and leaned into his touch, and this time— he didn’t fight the smile down. He gazed down at you warmly, genuinely smiling for the first time in awhile.

“Stay with me.” You mumbled sleepily, just as you had wanted to that one night.

Bucky took a deep breath, staring down at you with sudden tenderness. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.

“Okay.” He told you, watching you give a small smile in your sleep. Snuggling your face into the pillow.

Although both of you didn’t really get to scratch off every question of each others list— you both felt more connected after today. You just wanted someone, someone constant in your life. Bucky needed more light in his life— like you.

You both needed each other more than you realized.

🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍

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[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt-Mini-Series (Masterlist)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: This was a one-shot turned mini-series!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Bonus Chapter

Pool Olympics (Bonus Chapter)

(Finished: June 1st, 2024)