#marvel reader insert series

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 7.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Word Count: 4500+

TW: Torture, cussing, and blood. 

A/N: I’m hoping to get chapter 8 out in time, so bare with me! Thank you for reading:) 

Chapter 7:

“Y/N?” Nat asked, slowing her steps closer as she took in her new look. 

“Hey,” Y/N said with a quick smile while walking toward the red head. 

They were now face to face and Y/N was semi-avoiding eye contact as she could tell Nat was studying her. 

��I have a favor to ask you,” Y/N said softly as she tried to move the attention away from her. 

“If it has anything to do with helping you with your new look, I think you’ve got that down,” she smirked, crossing her arms. “I’ve been through enough identity crises to know a thing or two about drastic hair changes.”

That lightened the mood like Nat had hoped to and Y/N smirked slightly at the comment. 

“Thank you. I,” she paused, debating if she should confide in her or leave out her true reasoning like she was used to. But Nat had become a very understanding and sympathetic female friend that Y/N bonded with quickly, and the second guessing thought process was becoming easier to ignore with her around. 

“You don’t have to talk about it right now if you’re not ready,” she answered for her. “If you want to talk about it later we can… Or not. Whatever you want.”

Y/N was thankful for the deflection because she knew her own reasoning, but didn’t know if it sounded like stupid reasoning. The second guessing thing was something she was going to need to become better at ignoring herself.

“I appreciate that,” Y/N nodded. 

“Of course. Now… What kind of favor are we talking about?” Nat asked.

Instead of answering, Y/N looked back at the boxing ring debating if this was actually a good idea. 

Nat followed her eyeline and caught onto her thinking.

“Well, this could go a lot of different ways,” she thought out loud. 

Y/N turned back to her, getting her explanation out.

“Last night,” she started. “Last night was a really… ugly night,” she closed her eyes at the thought of seeing herself in the bathroom mirror right as the attack happened. 

“It was a really fucked up night, Y/N. You can call it what it is,” Nat encouraged, feeling for the other woman and everything she’s gone through. 

Y/N couldn’t help but feel comfortable with her casualty and agreed with her statement. 

“It was a fucked up night,” she sighed, and Nat let out one big laugh and a huge smile lit up her face. “What?” Y/N couldn’t help but smile a touch at the giggle spy in front of her. 

“You said it,” Nat grinned. “I’m proud of you.” Y/N tilted her head in confusion at the sudden pride Nat had for her. Nat caught on and chuckled before walking and putting her jacket on the chair next to the ring. “You’re allowed to be angry,” she explained. “No matter how much people tell you to look past it and move on, you're allowed to be angry that it happened to you. And sis,” she walked turned back to Y/N with a smirk. “You went through hell and back. I will be proud anytime you speak your true feelings on something.”

It was a sweet moment. One Y/N didn’t expect in this conversation at all, but a sweet and healing moment nevertheless. 

“Sorry, I keep redirecting the conversation,” Nat apologized, walking back to the ring and looking around. “What business are you trying to meet up for, in here?”

Y/N weighed her head back and forth softly while trying to find a way to convince Nat to help out.

“I need help trying to find a memory,” Y/N said in an exhausted and worn-out tone. As if she was becoming frustrated and sick of this process of stepping on eggshells in order to figure out who she was.

“What?” Nat stepped closer.

“I think last night when I was ambushed, my muscle memory kicked in,” she summarized. “The woman came up behind me and the other immediately pulled my legs together and almost had me pinned. It’s nothing that I imagined myself doing, but it was like my body took control, and-” she stopped, realizing this was the most she had talked about it yet. 

“What happened, Y/N?” Nat asked, intently listening. 

Y/N closed her eyes and her arms came closer into her body. Just enough for a spy who played off of people's behavior to notice the shrinking back into her shell.

“I remember blacking out, but this morning I could have sworn I saw something very… Unlike me?” She questioned it because she wasn’t truly sure of the person she was before all this.

“Piece it back to me.” Nat turned and sat on a chair and patted the seat next to her. 

She went on to explain that it was spotty, but there were points where she saw defensive maneuvers done in ways she didn’t know she could move. Then everything at one point had more vibrant colors, but she wasn’t sure if that was due to the adrenaline or something else since it faded quickly. 

She talked about how right before she knocked the woman out, that blackout was one of the hardest parts to piece together. One second the woman was looking at her in pain from the twist she had her arm in, and the in next, she was unconsciously molded into the wall. 

“And you don’t remember anything that happened in that split second?” Nat asked for confirmation. She shook her head no with pursed lips as her answer. “Interesting… So that leads us back to here,” she motioned to the boxing ring behind them while in the plush chairs they had settled into. 

“Yes,” Y/N nodded, looking back to the giant square too. “I know this is going to sound strange and maybe a step too far forward, but I think if I were to practice some of the movements that came to me, I could maybe… Piece things together?” 

She had asked the last thing in a question as she wasn’t sure if her plan was even worth trying after saying it outloud. 

“No, it makes sense,” Nat brushed off the insecurity she attached to it. “But the real question is do you want to take the risk of triggering something worse? Because there are going to be possible consequences if we do this. It’s nowhere close to the route Bucky wants you to follow.” 

The last part was said as if she meant to say that in her head, but she didn’t flinch when Y/N gave her a weird look. 

“What do you mean?” she tilted her head.

“Bucky knows a thing or two about everything you’ve been through. Has he told you about any of it?” Nat asked. 

“Um, not really…” 

Y/N thought back and realized she only knew small personal details about Bucky in her time here. And they weren’t things about his past really, but instead just quirks and likes and dislikes. 

For instance, when he was lecturing Peter with Steve one night while he did his homework in the living room, he would scratch his beard when he had to really think back on a detail to keep the story accurate. It was his tic she had noticed he commonly did to concentrate harder. 

Another time, when they had movie night, Bucky made sure to get one specific blanket everytime. He would kindly share it with her though as he prided in showing people how soft it was. He was right too, if you had ever felt the softness of the softest bunny on earth, it couldn’t compare to this blanket. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically everytime Sam made sure everyone remembered he was the one who bought that for Bucky as a gift for Secret Santa. Everyone said the last thing the tough soldier would want was a fluffy blanket. But they were all wrong and Bucky wished he had never shown his excitement at the thoughtful gift before learning who gave it to him. 

Or the time he had joined one of Wanda and her walks one day, and while on the trail, he would stop to point out certain trees and characteristics of them. He had mentioned that his time in the army gave him limited things to find hobbies in, so he took up reading about things that could help him survive in the heavily armed forest and woods they were stationed in. 

He made notes about a group of bushes that would bloom a berry in the spring that was similar to blueberries in taste. He had mentioned things about the dandelions and how they were actually very beneficial in helping with health issues. If cooked and concentrated right, it could give all kinds of healing properties. 

She had also learned on that hike he was a fan of astronomy. Another hobby picked up during the war and his extended periods of time outside under the night sky.

And there were tons of other little details that she had learned as well. 

He liked his coffee black with 2 sugar packets. He always made sure to open doors for every woman he could. He would call Sam Skuttle, which always made Sam annoyed, but he did it solely for that reason. He always had a jolly rancher or wart heads on hand, mainly for Y/N, but also because he knew what it was like to be socially uncomfortable or anxious, and the sour and sweet options helped give your brain another focus. Taste. 

He liked just sitting in common spaces while doing work of his own because he liked hearing the background conversations and being around people he trusted. He hated running with Steve because he would always say, “One more lap,” and it would never be just one more. He always smiled on one side of his mouth when they watch mystery movies and he somehow solves it before everyone else. Majority of the time he doesn’t say anything, but at the end when everyone discusses their theory, his happen to always be right and his points make it seem obvious when they never are. 

All of these traits and interests brought a different kind of comfort to her as it helped her humanize the man who saved her and also continuously proved that good and genuine people exist out there. 

“No, he hasn’t told me much besides how old he is, Steve and his friendship and when it started, and he told me he has enhancements,” she listed the things that would be of importance now. 

“Nothing about his arm?” Nat was semi-surprised.

“I’ve never asked about it, so no. Nothing,” she shrugged. 

“Huh,” Natasha hummed with a small smirk. “That’s… Interesting.” 

Y/N was blushing a bit, but mainly just because Nat was giving her a cheeky look that she didn’t know what to read it as. 

“I just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it since he never brought it up. I’m sure there’s a story to it, but I would want him to tell it to me in his own time,” she added. “He’s been patient with me while trying to learn all the things that’s happened to me, the least I can do is return the favor.”

Nat again couldn’t hold back the grin that was taking over her face now. This girl was a special and knowledgeable one and it showed effortlessly. 

“I’m sure he appreciates that,” Nat nodded, looking down to hide her growing smile, but then quickly putting her serious side to work. “Now, you wanted to give a punch or two a try? Let’s see what we are working with.” She stood up motioning to the ring. “Ready?”

“Surprisingly,” she hesitated, taking a deep breath and feeling a small wave of confidence hit her after Nat confirmed this was a good idea after all. “I think I am.”

_______________

“Have you seen Y/N?” Bucky asked as he walked past Sam who was at the kitchen island with his cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. 

“Not this morning, no,” Sam answered, never looking up. “Why?”

“I went by her room to check and see if she was still sleeping and I didn’t hear anything inside.”

“Did you knock?” 

“Yeah, no answer,” he replied with a breath as he grabbed his own mug. “I would have peaked my head in, but I didn’t hear a heartbeat on the other side. Her room was empty.” He paused trying to think of the possibilities. “I usually wake up before her and wait until she comes around in the morning to double check on her.”

“I know,” Sam chuckled. “You look like a dog waiting for their owner to wake up so you can hang out with them.” Bucky sent him a glare. “Don’t act like I’m wrong,” he chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips and going back to his phone. 

“Hey, guys,” Steve walked in. 

The two mumbled an early morning hello back.

“You haven’t seen Y/N by chance, have you?” Bucky asked him while he grabbed an apple from the fridge.

“No. Why?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he answered.

“I haven’t seen her this morning,” Bucky answered and their shared look silently communicated that something felt off. 

“Is she on a walk with Wanda? Maybe they got around earlier than usual,” Sam interrupted, still unbothered knowing she couldn’t and wouldn’t have gone far. 

“I just passed Wanda and she was headed to the gym,” Steve answered. 

“I’m going to go check her room one more time and do a walk around. See if anyone has seen her,” Bucky decided, leaving his empty mug by the coffee machine he never used. 

“Want an extra set of eyes?” Steve asked, ready to pack up his breakfast and go. 

“No, I’ll be back. Just text me if you hear from her,” Bucky began walking out. 

___________________________

After an uneventful night of trying to unblock memories by using muscle memory, Natasha and Y/N called it eventually and went to bed in hopes of getting a few hours of shut eye before waking up early with the rest. 

After deciding to reenact the maneuvers Y/N was able to piece together, frustration started to weigh heavy on her shoulders when nothing triggered a memory. 

Nat offered multiple times to put a pause on it if she needed rest, and that they could come the next night to try again if she wanted to still. 

Y/N had shook her head in determination and refocused. Each time saying, “One more try.”

By the time it was close to 2 in the morning, Nat knew it was time they both went to bed. They were mentally and physically exhausted trying to pull moves and think back to what could have started this in the beginning, and each time came up empty handed. 

The redhead thought she was one of the more hardheaded individuals of the group, but she had found a worthy opponent in Y/N. 

She was somehow able to convince her to get a few hours of rest and come back at 5:30am before most came to the gym. 

It was a Saturday which meant the capacity of the compound was slower than normal, and she knew the boys gym schedule for the most part. They wouldn’t need to worry about interruptions or concerned Bucky’s that morning. 

But just for extra measures, they went to a private conditioning room and stayed out of sight in case someone came along. They were the only two that knew about this idea and Y/N wanted to keep it that way. 

“What am I doing wrong?” Y/N grunted in frustration after doing another punch to the bag in front of her and nothing happening. 

It was interesting seeing this side of her as she had been so timid and quiet most of her stay here. Nat knew there was more to her than just that quickly after meeting her as she had wit. But she had still never seen her angry. Only scared or nervous when it came to the more intense emotions. 

“Maybe it wasn’t the move that caused the trigger to come back. Maybe it was the people,” Nat offered a new viewpoint. 

“It was the move,” Y/N shook her head in disagreement. Her eyes were on the floor and her arms were crossed in front of her after. The tap wrapping her knuckles were peeling and changing colors at the beating they had too against the punching bag. “I just don’t know how to reenact it better,” she sighed heavily. 

Nat gave her some space to think while she grabbed them waters and walked over to hand her one. 

Then, as a light bulb popped in her head, Y/N looked up sharply.

“That’s it,” she said softly, looking at the water bottle extended in front of her. 

“What’s it?” Nat asked confusedly as she looked at the plastic cylinder as if it had the answer. 

“Nat, I have another idea, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it,” Y/N took the water slowly as she gaged Nat’s face. 

“That sounds promising,” she smirked, nodding on for her to continue.

“I think I need you to actually fight me…”

Nat didn’t answer right away, but instead just stared at her blankly for 20 seconds before saying, “Come again?” 

“I think the only way we are going to get over this obstacle we’re in is if we are actually fighting and I have to truly defend myself. All this so far is just a slowed down version of it all. It’s not going to give me the adrenaline and survival instincts I need to get past this bump.”

Nat understood her reasoning after thinking about it, but at the same time couldn’t bring herself to give in to the request.

“I don’t think you understand how bad of an idea this could be,” Nat crossed her arms. 

“You and I both know you aren’t going to hurt me,” Y/N was quick to wave off.

“That would be the true intentions, but you are asking me to swing at you.”

“It's the next best option,” Y/N shrugged. “That or we keep doing this fake fighting thing and hope that one day it’ll spark something.”

“I like that idea better.”

“We don’t have much time for that kind of plan,” Y/N looked at her deeply. “Please.”

She considered it, but immediately thought of the repercussions they could hit if it ended up not working like they hoped. 

“Bucky, would kill me if I left a single scratch on you,” Nat shook her head. “I would feel awful-”

“If the person getting hurt is the one who asked for it, you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. Especially if I know what could come out of it,” Y/N bribed, picking at her wrapping. “Plus, I heal fast. By the time I saw anyone, no one would ever know you and I went up against each other.”

Again Nat was skeptical about the whole thing. A piece of her knew what it was like to try and get information from something that hurt you more than a scratch or two would. But Y/N was so fragile in her mind and the thought of pulling any kind of Black Widow move on her made her think about how unfair a fight like that could be. Especially if they didn’t know for sure if Y/N would react how they hoped. 

“I promise to tap out if I can’t handle it,” Y/N pushed on.

“It’s not you that I’m worried about being able to handle it,” Nat smirked. “I’m not sure I can handle being the one causing the damage.”

“Then do something simple,” Y/N offered, moving to the center of the mat. “Something that if I do have any sort of preservation muscle memory, I’ll react.”

Nat slowly walked to the mat with her, but didn’t make any moves. 

“If I do this, and it doesn't work, promise you won’t make me try again,” Nat bargained. “I don’t want to beat you up and you keep asking for more cause you want to try one more time.”

“I won’t make you do anything you aren’t completely comfortable with,” Y/N agreed. 

Nat hummed and thought about certain moves that she knew would just have to be quick reflexes to counter more than defend against. They could start off small. 

“Ok, but I’m not throwing a punch at you yet,” Nat pointed to her. 

“Works for me,” Y/N smiled. 

Nat and her got positioned on the training mat and Y/N bounced on her feet some, anticipating Nat’s next move. 

“Ok, I want the first move that you do to be strictly your gut reaction,” Nat instructed and Y/N nodded. 

Giving a few seconds of suspense to catch her off guard, Nat quickly took a step forward invading her space. Instantly, Y/N backed up. 

Nat surveyed her feet and body language and was surprised to see her in a staggered yet balanced stance. Not necessarily in a fight stance just yet, but at least she had decent counter poses. 

“Ok, nice start,” Nat smiled. 

Y/N seemed to be proud of that reaction and smiled more as she continued to bounce on her toes ready for the next move. 

“Maybe we should put on gloves. That way I can soften the blow a little-” Nat debated with herself, but Y/N shook her head. 

“Just swing,” she instigated, and she looked to have shocked herself a little at the snap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nat chuckled. “I’m glad to know you have a little spitfire in there.”

Y/N smiled shyly at the comment and they went back to it. Nat practiced a few more moves mainly just to study her stance and reflex of it all. She had shown promising reactions to each push Nat hit her with. 

“You’re walking on eggshells still,” Y/N noted as they circled each other. “You still haven't done any type of actual fight move on me.”

“I’m warming you up,” Nat played off. “I just needed to double check that you have promising reflexes.”

Y/N looked at her with a bitch face. Again that spitfire Nat mentioned earlier was becoming more apparent with each dragged out next move. 

But little did Y/N know she was building up her frustration to help in her defense. Nat had always said she was a better fighter and shot when she was mad. The rush of angry adrenaline was a different type of fuel. 

Just when she could see Y/N on the brink of giving up from frustration, that’s when Natasha striked. And instantly Y/N maneuvered in a way her opponent recognized. 

“Whoa,” Nat smirked, repositioning herself after being deflected in a smooth manner. “That was new.”

Y/N noticed it as well, but she wasn’t sure how she did it still. 

“Try it again,” she pushed on, straightening her stance as she focused. 

Nat shrugged and continued to size her up and play offense, and each time Y/N had moved herself out of harm's way. Sometimes it would be slightly clumsy as she would over think her next step and not let the natural instincts kick in fully. 

But that was part of the progress. You can still get rusty over time, especially if you weren’t actively practicing in ways like this. 

But for the most part, she was holding her own. When Natasha reminded her to follow her gut instead of her head, her next move would improve and hold strong. 

Then at one point, Nat came at a new angle and it was as if the realization of what they were doing sunk in.

It was no longer Nat that was throwing the next punch, but instead some flash of a man coming at her. 

Instead of fighting back, her learned behavior of shielding herself from the hit, instead of redirecting it, came flooding back as her survival instincts.

She threw an arm up in her face as she turned away, ready to take the hit this time, but instead a strong force propelled Natasha across the floor. 

When Y/N felt a vibration bounce around her, she opened her eyes in shock to see herself still standing and Natasha about 10 feet back from where she stood. 

Natasha groaned some, but sat back up with her hands propping her upper half up and her legs spread out in front of her. 

Instead of saying anything they just stared at the other in shock. Neither moving from their spot as they were trying to wrap their head around what just happened. 

Then Nat broke the silence with a single word. 

“Fuck.”

“Shit,” Y/N followed after a second. 

“Kurva,” another voice sounded from behind them. 

They both turned their heads quickly and saw the second redhead of the group at the door with her eyes in wide shock.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask here.Thank you:)

Finding Memories Taglist: (some would not let me tag. so if you see your name but didn’t get the notification, double check if your blog allows tags:)

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My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @snffbeebee​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​ @charmedbysarge​​ @jbarness​​ @bellamy-barnes​​ @katiaw2​​ @aikeia​​ @stopjustlovethemcu​​ @enchantedbarnes​

[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!

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine (masterlist) ♡

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au)

♡ Series Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Series Warnings: mentions of amputation, dark themes, violence, death/death threats, talk of parent death, fluff, angst, stalking, daddy issues, anxiety attacks/panic attacks, abuse, depression, depressive episodes, PTSD, dry humping, hints to smut, (warnings to be added as new chapters are released)

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine ☀️

(SERIES ONGOING)

Last Updated: 9/8/23

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+

⇨ Chapter One

↳ After Pierce interviews Bucky for the job, he warns him of you. Bucky is starting to rethink his decision, but when he meets you... you're not what he expected.

⇨ Chapter Two

↳ Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other a little better, but Bucky is hesitant.

⇨ Chapter Three

↳ Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.

⇨ Chapter Four

↳ You don’t know what to think of Bucky after he took you to bed last night. Bucky can’t continue to keep the stalking situation hidden from you. Something is found on your doorstep.

⇨ Chapter Five

↳ 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?

⇨ Chapter Six

↳ Bucky receives a morning visit from Steve, with the news about what was in the box. Bucky continues to think about what he should do. Should he tell you the truth about your stalker?

⇨ Chapter Seven

↳ Bucky finds you making a mess in the kitchen, attempting to bake and offers his help. The two of you get to talking and some reveals about each other begin to come out. Will he finally tell you about your stalker?

⇨ Chapter Eight

↳ After a surprise visit from Pierce, tension arises as he threatens Bucky of his job. Pierce wants to have a talk with you and it doesn't go very well.

⇨ Chapter Nine

↳ After the events from the other day, you try and cope with the reality of what happened. The world is a lot less colorful than you remember. Bucky helps comfort you after you realize you have no one left.

⇨ Chapter Ten

↳ Someone comes knocking at your door in the morning. Bucky answers and is surprised with who he finds. Are they going to help them or hurt them?

⇨ Chapter Eleven

↳ The tension can't be ignored anymore between you and Bucky. Steve shows up and he's not alone.

⇨ Chapter Twelve

↳ Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.

⇨ Chapter Thirteen

↳ Your dreams consist of random memories of your parents, but are they really random? Despite the past days of hell—you still find it difficult to resist Bucky. You two spend a heated morning together, devouring each other while you still have these moments.

[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

[buckyispunk]

Aloha

Aloha part one ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N), read part two here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You arrive at a Hawaiian resort for your ex's wedding and a man named Bucky buys you a drink. You proceed to spend the next day with him, getting to know him and his friends.

A/N: New series! There will probably be five or so parts, with much more smut, angst, and fluff to come :) let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!

Warnings: unwanted touching (not by Bucky), dom!bucky, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, spitting, choking, orgasm delay/denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, Bucky's got a filthy mouth

Word Count: 11k

Fucking Brock. You sit on the couch staring at the little cardstock rectangle in disbelief.

Join us in celebrating Brock and Marisssa’s special day! surrounded by hibiscus flowers and a tropical design. The flowery invitation theme makes sense when you read that the wedding is in Hawaii. 

You hadn’t seen Brock in years. Three, to be exact. It had been in the soup aisle of the grocery store.

You had been reaching for a can of tomato paste to make spaghetti to eat alone in your little apartment. You looked a mess, having stopped at the store on your way home from a long day of work. You heard him call your name - his nonchalant, egotistical voice recognizable anywhere. 

“Oh my god, how’ve you been? It’s been too long!” He had said, as if he had made any attempts to reach out to you - or had any desire to - since you had broken up. 

“Oh,” you turned around to face him, “fine, you?”

“I’m doing great! Just here to buy some soup for my girlfriend, she’s been under the weather lately.”

Not even a minute into conversation and he’d mentiioned his new girlfriend. You had just broken up two months before. You tried your best to keep the look of shock and sadness from your face. How had he moved on so quick? Did your almost four year relationship meant so little to him? 

You managed to give a small noncommittal smile and nod. He wasn’t paying enough attention to you to notice anyway, grabbing a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup and turning back the way he came. 

“We should get together and catch up sometime!” he had shouted over his shoulder as he walked away.

That was the last time you had seen him. It wasn’t like the two of you were on bad terms or anything. The break up had been civil - civil as a breakup can be, anyway. You and Brock had begun dating in your freshman year of college. One day, in the middle of you and Brock’s senior year, he sat you down and said he needed to talk to you. He said that you were great and he’d always have a special place in his heart for you, but he just couldn’t picture himself with you for the rest of his life - so there’s no point in wasting anymore time, as he had put it. To be honest, you didn’t disagree.

You had been unhappy towards the end of the relationship. You could tell that Brock was distancing himself and the two of you got in little fights almost every day. You knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it had still left a huge hole in your heart. Brock was a big part of your life every day for four years, then all of a sudden he was just gone. A big piece of you was missing and you had to rebuild it yourself. Turns out Brock rebuilt that piece with another girl. If he ever had a piece that needed rebuilding in the first place, that is. 

You really had wanted to stay friends with him after the breakup, or at least remain civil with him. He had never reached out after that day in the grocery store and you had no desire to reach out to him - you had healed yourself and decided you were better off without him. 

You sit on the couch running your fingers over the rough material, rereading the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. You really don’t care that Brock is getting married, it’s not like you want him back or anything. But, at the same time, you weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to go watch him and his fiancee celebrate their special day. 

A vacation did sound nice, though. You’d always wanted to go to Hawaii. Plus, you figured some of you and Brock’s friends from college would be in attendance. The two of you had been in the same friend group when he asked you out. You lost touch with the friend group after the break up. You would see some of them in passing or in classes and share small talk, but you had stopped getting invitations to hang out with them. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, though, and it would be nice to see them again. 

You mull it over for a little while before deciding that it would be a good move on your part to go, show Brock that you were still on good terms with him and that him getting married doesn’t bother you. You could take a break from work and get some much-needed sun and relaxation. You RSVP and check no, you will not be bringing a plus one.  

The months leading up to the wedding follow the same, monotonous routine. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Occasionally your coworkers would drag you out to the bar after work and you would go - desperate to feel some sort of belonging. Despite your efforts over the years, you had never gotten close with any of the girls at work. You got along with them okay, but you wouldn’t exactly call them your friends. Acquaintances was a more fitting term.

You do, however, have one best friend. The only issue is that she lives almost a thousand miles away. You had moved to New York for school and she had stayed back home in Illinois. You stay in contact with her and your family. Most days, talking to them makes you more homesick than anything else. You’d considered moving back more than once, but had ultimately decided against it each time - you’re scared to look like a failure. You don’t want to come running back home at the first signs of struggle. You want to prove to everyone back home that you can make it in the big city by yourself. 

As the days go by, you find yourself looking forward to the special day. Not because of the wedding, but because you’re ready to escape the numb hell that your life has become. The wedding is on a Friday. You’re flying in on Monday and leaving Sunday morning. Six nights at the tropical resort Brock and Marissa have picked. 

It’s the Sunday night before you leave. Your bags are packed and waiting by the door. Sleep comes easy, knowing that by this time tomorrow you’ll be drinking cocktailas at a pool-side bar, free from work stress and city traffic. Away from the city where you feel lonely among millions of people.

Usually when the ear-piercing, dread instilling sound of your alarm rings, you hit the snooze button and pull the covers tighter in attempt to hang on to your last moments of comfort and peace - or as close as you can get to that, these days. Today, however, is different. When you hear the all-too familiar noise coming from your phone, it leaves you with a feeling of excitement rather than depression. 

You sit up, smile on your face, and get ready for the day. After showering and putting on your comfiest plane clothes, you grab your bags and head outside. You hail a taxi and can’t even bring yourself to be upset when he doesn’t offer to help you with your luggage. You smile the whole way to the airport.

I repeat, flight DL4567 is delayed by two hours. Boarding will begin at 12:10.

The universe has found a way to put you in a bad mood again. You’re certain whatever higher power there is had sent this sudden thunderstorm just for you. You look at your phone to check the time - 9:45. You had been sitting here for an hour already. The hard chair is starting to get uncomfortable, so you decide to get your second cup of coffee for the morning. You stand and grab your luggage, making your way to the end of the Starbucks line. You order your go-to drink and some breakfast.

Once you get your coffee and food you find a little table to sit at and pull out your book. You find yourself enthralled in your book and the time flies. A voice over the loudspeaker breaks you out of your trance. 

Flight DL4567 now boarding. 

You snap your book shut and clean up your table. You grab your bags and head back to your gate. After waiting in line for a little while, you finally take your seat on the plane. You put in your earbuds and watch the grey clouds outside - thankful you got a window seat. By the time the plane starts moving, you’re smiling again and counting down the time until your arrival. 

You spend the first five hours of your flight reading and watching TV - you’re pleasantly surprised to see that they have your favorite show. Sometime after they serve lunch, you fall asleep. When you wake up, there’s only two hours left until arrival. 

You watch the fluffy clouds outside your window and find that time passes quickly when you think about all the things you want to do in Hawaii. You also find that the time passes impossibly slow when you let your mind drift to New York and all your responsibilities. How is it that you haven’t even landed in Hawaii yet and you’re already dreading returning back home?

You see the beaches and the luscious green that fill the ground beneath you. You take in all the sights as best you can as you get closer and closer to the ground, preparing for landing. Your ears hurt slightly from the pressure change, but you’ve got other things on your mind.

After waiting some more to get your luggage, you finally manage to get on a shuttle and you’re on your way to the resort. You watch the mountains in the distance and the palm trees on the drive. You’re listening to your playlist through your earbuds and this is the happiest you’ve felt in a while. You could get used to this, you think. 

Your jaw drops when you pull up to the hotel. The huge building is right on the beach. Sure, that’s what it had said online, but the real thing it’s even more staggering in person than it had been in the pictures. The sun beats down on you as soon as you step out of the shuttle, but there’s a nice breeze that makes it enjoyable. A worker hands you your bags from the back of the bus and you thank him. You roll them inside the resort, eyes widening even more when you see the inside of the place. You can’t wait to get your bags in your room and explore. 

The receptionist is nice as can be and tells you to enjoy your stay as she hands you your key cards - like you’ll be needing more than one. You wheel your luggage into the elevator and press the number five. You’re astonished by the view when you step into your room. Your balcony faces the beach and you can see mountains in the distance. The evening sun is still shining bright and there’s not a cloud in the sky. 

It’s just after seven o’clock by the time you’re done changing. You head down to the main floor and set off to explore. There’s a spa, an indoor and outdoor bar, a pool, a hot tub, a gym, and a restaurant. You decide to hit the outdoor bar and enjoy the last of the daylight. 

You slide into a barstool. The warmth of the sun and the refreshing sea-side breeze, along with a couple cocktails, quickly put you into a relaxed headspace. You’d been looking forward to this for so long and it’s definitely all you’d imagined it would be. 

The resort is pretty full, but not to the point where it gets on your nerves. The bar is occupied by a group of girls who look a little younger than you and some married couples.

You’re just finishing your second drink when something catches your attention - a loud, boisterous laugh coming from the other end of the bar. You lean forward to see a group of guys you hadn’t noticed before. The laugh comes from a man with chocolatey, smooth skin. He’s sitting with a gigantic blond man who is currently looking down at the bartop and shaking his head, a half smile on his face. The last man, though, is what makes you do a double take. 

He’s got dark, fluffy hair. Though his stubble tries to hide it, you notice his sharp jawline. His shoulders are broad and his biceps stretch the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s smiling, pearly white teeth on display. You find that you’re still watching him as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a swig. 

You’re only snapped out of your trance when he looks in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes, but you aren’t quick enough. He catches your gaze for the briefest of seconds. You might be imagining things, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile before he looks back to his friends - still laughing and yelling about something.

The sun has finally set and you decide on having one more of the fun, tropical drinks before heading up to your room. 

You prepare to flag down the bartender, surprised when you find him already stopping in front of you, one of the cocktails you’d been drinking in hand. 

“Courtesy of the gentleman at the other end of the bar.”

You quickly thank the bartender and look back to the other end of the bar where the group of guys had been sitting. They’re the only men sitting at that end of the bar.

The brunette is already looking at you. He gives you a million dollar smile and shoots you a wink before he turns, following his friends back into the hotel.

You sit in shock for a solid minute, replaying the wink over and over in your mind. Sure you’ve got a solid buzz and you haven’t been laid in a long time, but even if that wasn’t the case, you’re sure it would’ve been just as sexy. You’re only slightly ashamed of the small amount of wetness you feel in your panties.

You down the free drink and head back into the hotel. On your way to the elevator, you notice the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the last 30 or so minutes standing at the reception desk. His hair is wet and his clothes are soaking through. 

You quickly make your way to the elevator and repeatedly press the up arrow. You’re not sure where the sudden embarrassment is coming from, but your cheeks are red and you don’t want him to see you right now. 

Unfortunately for you, you hear footsteps behind you and turn to find the same piercing blue eyes you had met across the bar staring back at you. 

“Friends stole all the towels out of my room,” he tells you, holding up a stack of fresh ones.

Well that explains why he was at the reception desk, also why he’s soaking wet. 

“Oh,” you manage a small chuckle as you look down at your feet. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you so intently, like you’re the only thing on his mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen and he’s talking to you of all people. 

You force yourself to meet his eyes again, “Thank you, um, for the drink earlier,” you manage in a somewhat steady voice. 

 “Course, doll,” another smile. 

The elevator doors finally open and he extends his arm, “After you.”

He follows you into the elevator and presses the number five. 

“What floor are you on?” he turns, waiting for your response.

“Same as you, apparently,” you smile up at him. 

You weren’t close enough to tell before, but he’s tall. At least six feet. 

“I’m Bucky, by the way. Sorry ‘bout leaving before I could introduce myself earlier, but my friends were being a pain in the ass - pardon my language.”

You tell him your own name and he holds out his hand. You put your hand in his and expect him to shake it, but what he does next surprises you.

He gently raises your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he rolls your name off his tongue, still holding your hand.

You try your best not to make it obvious that you’re swooning over this man. Heat returns to your core at the feeling of his rough hand engulfing yours. 

The elevator bell dings, letting you know you’ve reached your floor. Bucky carefully drops your hand as the doors open. The two of you step out of the elevator and he stops.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” he says, holding eye contact with you.

“I hope so,” your buzz encourages you. 

You smile at each other and when he turns to head to his room, you do the same. 

“Goodnight, doll,” he shouts over his shoulder before disappearing into his room.

You can’t keep the smile off of your face the rest of the night. You’re in fucking Hawaii. A man straight out of your fantasies had bought you a drink, and he plans on seeing you around. You know it’s too soon to be thinking this, but maybe you’ll find a more unconventional way to relieve stress this week. 

After you wake up and get dressed for the day, you head down to get breakfast from the buffet. You load your plate and find a table. You’re in the middle of chewing a bite of waffle when you see Brock. Him and a woman, you assume it’s Marissa, are grabbing plates and getting into the breakfast line. 

Brock doesn’t notice you until after him and the woman have gotten their own food. You watch him as he scans the room for a table, his eyes eventually landing on you. 

He calls out your name and leans down to tell the woman something. 

“So glad you’re here! Are these seats taken?” he asks, not waiting for a response as he sits down, leaving the woman to follow. 

“Go ahead,” you say. You’re somewhat glad to have some company, even if it’s a little awkward.

“This is my fiancée, Marissa.”

“So nice to meet you,” she offers her hand and you shake it. 

Breakfast is filled with awkward conversation. You and Brock catch up a little bit, telling each other what you’re up to these days. After a few minutes, Brock pulls out his phone and doesn’t put it away for the rest of the meal. You talk to Marissa about the wedding planning and do your best to seem interested as she talks about flower arrangements for ten minutes. 

Eventually, conversation lulls and you take the opportunity to get up. 

“So nice catching up with you, Brock. And nice to meet you Marissa!” you say, heading to your room.

You decide on heading to the pool today and change into your bikini. It’s a black set that shows off your body without being too skimpy. You throw some clothes over it and grab your book before stepping out of your room. 

Before you reach the elevator, you hear your name being called. You turn and see Bucky standing by his door.

“Where are you headed to?” 

“I’m gonna go lay by the pool for a bit, wanna join me?” you answer, not sure where your courage is coming from.

Bucky grins as he responds, “Nothing else I’d rather do.”

You feel your face heat up.

“Lemme put some trunks on and I’ll meet you down there?”

“Sounds great, Bucky,” you nod at him before slipping into the elevator.

Once at the pool, you grab two towels. By some miracle, you manage to find two empty lounge chairs together. You set your things down and lay the towels over the chairs. You strip out of your clothes, leaving you clad in only the bikini, and apply sunscreen before laying down. You put your earbuds in and close your eyes and bask in the sun. 

Maybe it's the sunshine, maybe it’s the fresh ocean air, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but you’re feeling the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You notice that instead of your usual RBF, you've been smiling almost constantly since your arrival.

When you open your eyes, you see Bucky standing a few feet away from you, steel blue eyes raking up and down your body. 

“Oh, Bucky,” you pause your music, blush returning to your cheeks, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Shit,” he says your name, realizing he’d been caught staring, “I swear I just got here like ten seconds ago. I’m so sorry. Feel free to revoke my invitation because I was being a creep,” he grimaces, expecting you to be mad at him.

The way he looked at you was different than the way most men would look at you in a bikini, though. It wasn’t gross or pervy. It looked like he was genuinely just appreciating your body, rather than plotting how to get you into his bed. And he didn't make any disgusting comments or cat call you like other guys have in the past. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn’t get a boost of confidence from the way he looked at you.  

“Hmm,” you put your finger on your chin, pretending to mull it over, “I’ll let you sit down, but only if you buy me another drink first.”

That familiar grin spreads across his face again. 

“You got yourself a deal. You want another one of those gross cocktails you were drinking last night?”

“Um, excuse you, Mr. I’m too manly to drink cocktails, but I’ll have you know those were delicious.”

He chuckles and promises to be back shortly before walking toward the bar. 

You play your music and wait for him to return. After a couple minutes, he returns holding a colorful, fruit filled cocktail and a beer bottle.

Bucky takes his seat next to you, beer bottle in hand. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lays back in his chair. 

“So, not to be rude, but is Bucky your real name?”

“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, if you must know. All my friends and family call me Bucky.” 

You nod and take a sip of your drink. 

“Man, it’s hot,” Bucky takes a drink from his bottle before setting it down and reaching down to grab the bottom of his shirt. You find it’s your turn to stare as he pulls it over his head, exposing tan skin and rippling muscle. Bucky gives you a cocky smirk when he notices you staring with your drink frozen midair, on its way to your mouth. 

You quickly avert your eyes and feel the familiar dusting of pink return to your cheeks. 

“Like what you see, doll?”

You simply shake your head at his teasing and smile, flustered as can be.

“So what do you do for work, Bucky?”

“Well I was in the army until a couple years ago. Now I’m a mechanic, I got my own shop with my buddies.” 

You make a mental note to thank the army for mandating PT as you watch a drop of sweat roll down Bucky’s washboard abs.  

“Is that who you’re here with?”

“Yeah. Me and Steve have known each other since we were little, actually. We met Sam when we joined up and after we all got out we opened up shop together,” a reminiscent smile plays upon his lips. “Those two knuckleheads are basically family. We decided to take a trip to celebrate the shop’s one year anniversary.”

“Speaking of family, do you have any?”

“My, uh,” his brows furrow, “my dad died when I was little, but I have a mom and a sister who’s a little younger than me. About your age, probably.” 

His expression returns to normal in a split second, “Enough about me. Do you have family?”

“Yeah, but I moved away for college and never went back home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Ohio. I live in New York now.”

Bucky seems almost excited at this bit of information. 

“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow. “I live in Brooklyn.”

“Me too,” you share a smile.

Needing a break from the sweltering sun, you stand and grab your drink. 

“I'm getting in the pool, care to join?”

Bucky wordlessly stands and follows you to the pool, smiling. You walk down the steps, drink in hand. Bucky, however, stops at the edge of the pool and watches you. 

“You coming in or what?”

“In a minute, doll.”

Surprisingly, the pool isn’t that crowded. It’s huge, so the people that are in the pool are able to spread out and stay out of each other’s way. 

It’s only once you’re standing in the pool, water up to your bikini top, that Bucky decides to enter. 

Via cannonball. 

You register what he’s about to do as he jumps in the air and wraps his hands around his knees and you yell at him, Barnes don’t you dare! but it’s too late. Next thing you know, you’re drenched. Your hair and face are soaked and there’s pool water in your drink.

Bucky emerges from under the water, smirk dancing across his lips. His expression falters for a second when he notices your angry expression, but you can’t keep the smile from your face when he shakes his hair out like a wet dog. 

“You ruined my drink.”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands and setting it on the edge of the pool. 

He walks closer and closer to you until you’re just inches apart. He tentatively moves his hands under the water until they’re resting on your bare hips. His grip is soft, barely there. He’s giving you a chance to reject his touch, but all you do is gently move into his hands. 

His grip becomes more firm and his eyes light up with a glint of mischief. Before you know what hit you, you’re being lifted out of the water, Bucky’s muscles flexing as he raises you up. Before you have a chance to stop him - as if you’d stand any chance against his nearly super human physique - he launches you back into the water. 

When you emerge from the water, you see Bucky nearly doubled over laughing at the angry expression on your face. You really do try your best to be mad at him, but his shimmering smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes makes it hard. 

“What. The. Hell,” you make your way back to him and move to smack his chest. Bucky has quick reflexes, though, and you find that your hand is trapped between one of his own and his muscular pec. 

“That was revenge for the way you’ve been staring at me all morning when I’m unable to do anything about it.”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his flirty words in an effort to keep up your mad facade.

“What if I drowned Bucky?” you deadpan.

“Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you’re still a jerk.”

“A jerk who’s talking to the prettiest girl in this resort,” he counters with a shit-eating grin.

Bucky drops his hand and, instead of moving yours away, you wrap both your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Not for much longer if you pull another stunt like that, Barnes.”

“Sorry, doll,” the amused grin he’s still sporting makes you doubt his apology.

His hands return to your hips and he pulls you closer. He’s a fair bit taller than you and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. The sun is reflected in his ocean blue eyes and water drips down his face, getting caught in the scruff spanning his jaw. 

Bucky leans down and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin between two long fingers. He softly directs you toward his own face. You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down to his pink, pillowy lips. You close the rest of the distance on your own. 

Bucky is quick to kiss you back after your lips meet his. He caresses your lips with his own and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, pressing you against him harder. He swipes his tongue across your lips and you part them for him. You let out a small moan into his mouth and he gently takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

He pulls away, letting your lip free. You feel a throb in between your legs when he gives your neck a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his own person. 

“Fuck, doll. Don’t make me throw you into the water again.” He waits until he thinks you’re not looking before reaching down to adjust his swim trunks.

“You started it,” you reply as you make your way to the steps and climb out of the pool. “I need another drink,” you make sure to sway your hips as you walk back toward the bar, not needing to look back to know he’s watching. 

You lean against the bar and are waiting to be helped when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. You turn around and expect to see Bucky, only to be met with the sight of a man you’ve never seen before.

“Can I help you?” you remove the man’s hand from you.

“Nice bikini, baby. Lemme buy you a drink,” the slur in his words and his unsteady stance letting you know that he’s certainly not sober.

“No, thanks,” you turn back to the bar, making it clear you’re not interested. 

The man either doesn’t get the hint or decides to keep trying anyway, because you feel both his hands land on your hips this time. He steps closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back.

Just as you’re preparing to throw an elbow into the man’s ribs, you feel his hands being ripped off of you. You turn around to see the man falling to the ground, Bucky standing over him. 

“Get up,” Bucky demands, looking down.

The man, surprisingly, manages to get back on his feet and gives Bucky a death glare. Before he has a chance to give Bucky a piece of his mind, as you’re sure he was about to, Bucky grabs him by the collar of his shirt and leans into the man’s ear. He says something too quiet for you to hear and emphasizes it by using his grip on the man’s shirt to shake him. A few people around you are starting to stare.

The man’s face goes slack and he nods in response to whatever Bucky had said. Bucky shoves the man away and he nearly falls to the ground again. Bucky stares him down as he turns and walks away. Once he’s sure the man isn’t coming back, he returns his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone’s attention seems to be back to whatever they were doing before the commotion.

“You okay, doll? I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” you give him a half smile to let him know you’re okay, just sick of men thinking they have a right to touch you. “I’m okay.”

“You still want another drink? Told you I’d buy it,” he goes to flag down the bartender. 

You gently rest your hand on his bicep and he looks at you “Thank you, Buck,” you hope your genuine expression conveys that you’re not just thanking him for the drink.

He gives you a curt nod, “Don’t mention it. Just trying to be a gentleman.”

A few minutes later, armed with another round of drinks, you and Bucky are making your way back to the lounge chairs.

“So where are your friends today?” you inquire.

“Finally got those punks outta my hair for a little while. They went to hike up some mountain. Or maybe it was a volcano, I really don’t know.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

“I-uh,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “let’s just say heights aren’t really my thing,” an adorable redness spreads across his face.

You nod, deciding to spare him any further embarrassment from teasing. The two of you sit down on the sides of your chairs, facing each other. 

“So why are you here?”

You figured the question would arise eventually, but you had been dreading telling him the reason. It just sounds embarrassing to admit that you’re attending your ex’s wedding. 

“I’m actually here for a wedding.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s getting married? Not you, I hope,” Bucky chuckles at his own joke but stops when you don’t so much as crack a smile. His face drops and he stares at you for a second before you notice his expression.

“No. God- no. I’m not engaged, Bucky. Very much single. It’s my ex’s wedding.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, wow,” you can tell he’s unsure how to respond.

“I’ve hardly talked to him since the breakup a few years ago. We’re on good terms, though. Actually ate breakfast with him and his fiancee this morning.”

“Well that’s good, I guess. That you’re on good terms, I mean. Why did you choose to come? Sorry if I’m being nosy, you dont have to answer.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a little weird, I get it. For the most part, it was a good excuse to take a vacation and hopefully see some old friends. It’s not like I still have feelings for Brock or anything, so I really couldn’t care less that he’s getting married. His fiancee seems nice enough. And things went okay this morning, so I’m hopeful that things won’t be too awkward at the wedding. Plus there’ll be an open bar at the reception,” you crack a smile.

Bucky listens and nods along. “Well I hope everything goes okay. I’m certainly not complaining that you’re here,” he gives you a soft smile.

Sunbathing next to Bucky and sharing laughter-filled conversation leaves you with such a serene feeling that you physically feel lighter and your mind feels clearer. You decide in that moment that this vacation was definitely worth it, you can feel your mental health improving by the hour.

At one point, you doze off and are woken to Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, radiant smile on his face. 

“Probably shouldn’t stay out here too long or you’ll burn to a crisp.”

You sit up and nod, “Good point.”

You and Bucky get dressed and gather your things before depositing your towels in the proper bin and heading inside the hotel. Once you and Bucky reach your floor, you stand and shuffle your feet, unsure of what to do next. Bucky sets a hand on your arm and you look up at him. 

“My friends and I are going out to dinner tonight and, I’m sorry if this seems weird, but would you want to come with us? You don’t have to say yes, just thought I’d throw it out there,” he has a nervous look on his face and he chews on his lip while he waits for an answer.

You couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that he still wants to spend more time with you, even though you’d been together a large chunk of the day already. You want to say yes, both because you have no other plans and because you’d love to spend more time with the man in front of you, but you don’t want to seem overly eager. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. Only if you’re sure your friends won’t mind, that is.”

Bucky looks almost relieved and gives you a boyish grin. “Nah, Steve and Sam will be fine. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”

“Okay, Buck, looking forward to it.”

“Can’t wait, doll. I’ll meet you here at seven.”

Bucky seems to hesitate for a moment, but then leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, which you happily return. He pulls back and heads off to his room.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

You decide you have a bit of time before you need to start getting ready for dinner, so you grab your book and sit out on the balcony. You find that you have a hard time focusing on the words in front of you, though. The ocean waves and palm trees blowing in the breeze paired with the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from below makes for a pleasant distraction. Before you know it, it’s 6:45 and you scramble to get back inside and start getting dressed. 

It isn’t until you’re searching through your clothes that you realize you don’t know where you’re going for dinner or how to dress. You only packed three dresses, a sundress, the dress you’re wearing to the wedding, and the one you decide on for tonight.

The black dress comes down to your knees with a slit up the thigh. It’s tight and shows off your curves. The back is open, with straps crossing in the center of your shoulder blades. The cut in the front is low enough that it shows off your cleavage while maintaining a classy enough appearance. 

You decide to dress it up with heels - also black. They’re only a couple inches tall, so you can still walk in them somewhat comfortably. You’re thankful that you packed a decent selection of jewelry and throw on some silver earrings and a necklace.

You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help but smile - damn you look good. You grab your clutch and open your door. You nearly walk into Bucky as you step into the hallway. 

Bucky is wearing tight grey dress pants with a snug-fitting short sleeve black button up. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a peek of the toned chest hiding beneath. He’s paired the outfit with a black belt and matching shoes. He speaks before you have a chance to compliment him.

“Doll,” he looks you up and down, eyes wide, “wow. You look gorgeous.”

You feel yourself flush as you thank him. 

“You look really good too, Buck. Where’s Steve and Sam?”

“I told them to wait downstairs for us. Wanted to prepare you for them. They can be a bit,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “much, sometimes. I told them to be on their best behavior tonight. They just have a way of embarrassing people, Sam especially. I’m sure they’ll be teasing me nonstop, so just ignore anything they say.”

You chuckle lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

You and Bucky step into the elevator and take turns sneaking glaces at each other. Just before you reach the ground floor, Bucky leans over you, effectively trapping you between him and the elevator wall. Even in your heels, he has to lean down to be eye level with you. “I mean it, doll, you look stunning,” his eyes search yours, “Can I kiss you?”

You respond by closing the distance between the two of you. He reaches up and places a hand on the back of your head, holding you to him. The feel of his soft lips on yours makes you forget where you are. All too soon, the elevator door is opening and before you and Bucky have a chance to break away from each other, you hear a whistle.

“Damn, Barnes! Moving quick!” 

Bucky quickly steps away from you but stays in front of you, shielding you while you take a second to collect yourself. 

“Shut it, Sam,” Bucky says sternly. You don’t miss the red that creeps up the back of his neck. Nor do you miss how his tight pants do wonders for his ass.

After a second you step out from behind Bucky and extend a hand to the man, deciding to play it off.

“So you must be Sam,” you introduce yourself as he shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve responds when you shake his hand.

Steve and Sam lead the way out of the resort and you trail behind with Bucky. 

“We heard about this place some locals recommended that’s supposed to be really good. We’re gonna take a taxi there. That okay with you?”

“Sounds great,” you smile up at him.

The four of you wait in front of the resort for the taxi. 

“So,” Steve says your name, “you really spent all day with Bucky and he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, I never said that. He’s lucky I’m even here right not after he threw me into the pool earlier. Although he did almost get into a fist fight defending me, so I guess it cancels out.”

Sam gives Bucky a grin, “Attaboy.”

“When me and Buck were younger, I used to get myself into all kinds of trouble and Bucky would have to end up kicking some dude’s ass for me almost daily,” Steve reminisces.

Bucky huffs and nods his head, “Punk dragged me into all kinds of trouble. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this big. Needed to help him out or he woulda ended up bleeding out in an alley somewhere in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, but you have trouble picturing the man in front of you as anything other than he is now - huge and intimidating. 

After a couple minutes of getting to know Steve and Sam a little bit, the taxi arrives. It’s a five seater car, Steve sits in the front with the driver and you, Bucky, and Sam climb into the back. Bucky sits in between you and Sam. The car is plenty roomy enough, but Bucky makes sure to sit close enough that his thigh is pressed up against yours. The drive is short and Steve pays the driver when you arrive. Everyone gets out of the car. Bucky offers you his elbow and you link your arm in his. He leads the four of you into the building.

“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”

The hostess leads you out back to the outdoor seating and your jaw drops. The palm tree surrounded patio is right on the beach and you have a perfect view of the sun setting on the water. Fairy lights and tiki torches give the place a soft glow. A live band plays soft Hawaiian music on a stage. 

Once you reach your table, the hostess sets down menus and silverware, before heading back inside. Bucky unlinks his arm from yours and he pulls out a chair for you. Before you sit, you turn to him.

“Bucky, this place is beautiful.”

“Glad you like it, darling.”

You sit and Bucky takes the seat next to you. By the time you snap out of your awestruck trance, Sam and Steve are both holding menus and arguing about something. You go to pick up a menu and notice Bucky’s eyes trained on you. He gives you a smile before looking down at his own menu. 

The waitress comes to take drink orders and the three men all order whiskey. You decide to get something other than a fruity cocktail.

“I’ll have the same,” you say when the server looks to you. 

You notice the way all three of their eyebrows jump at your choice. The waitress leaves and Bucky gently sets a hand just above your knee. He turns to look at you, as if asking for permission and you give him a reassuring smile. Conversation flows and when the waitress returns with the drinks, Sam and Steve immediately take a sip of theirs. Bucky’s eyes fall on you as you raise the glass to your lips. You keep eye contact with him as you take a drink, holding a straight face. You see of flash of something dark flash in his eyes and he moves his hand higher up your thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. 

You continue to read the menu and decide on seafood - you have to, you’re in Hawaii - and so does everyone else at the table. It is the restaurant’s specialty, after all. By the time the waitress comes to take your order, the four of you are all getting along great.

“So you guys all work on cars, huh?” 

“And bikes,” Sam nods at you.

“Do you guys all have motorcycles?” you glance around the table.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky confirms.

You can easily picture him leather-clad, thick thighs straddling a Harley and his hand resting on the throttle. The thought makes you clench your thighs together and, based on the way Bucky’s thumb begins to rub circles into your thigh and he smirks at you, you assume he notices. 

“So what do you have planned for the rest of the week?” Steve questions you, oblivious to Bucky’s hand on you underneath the table.

“Well I’m going snorkeling tomorrow. I also want to hit the beach, maybe take a surf lesson. Horseback riding and hiking sounds fun too, though. What all have you guys done?”

“Well,” Sam starts, “we just got in yesterday, so we haven’t really done much yet.”

“Oh, so you guys got here the same day I did, then. When are you guys leaving?”

“Saturday, how about you?” Bucky answers you. 

“Sunday morning.”

“I’m sure you’ll be sick of Bucky by then,” Sam chortles.

Thinking about spending the rest of the week with Bucky puts a smile on your face and you hope he wants to spend more time with you, too. Eventually, the food comes and you all dig in. It’s so delicious that you’re not even mad about how expensive it was. Bucky lets out a groan of delight as he takes his first bite. 

“This is so good, doll. You want to try?” 

You nod and he raises his fork to your lips. He feeds you a bite of his food and you agree, it is delicious. You pull your attention away from Bucky just in time to see Sam whispering something into Steve’s ear, to which Steve chortles and nods.

“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky returns his attention to his friends.

“Nothing, man,” Steve dismisses him.

Bucky shoots them a warning look but drops it. 

The rest of the meal is filled with stories from their time in the army and Steve informs you that Bucky was a sergeant. You’re thankful that they don’t pressure you with too many questions about your boring life back in the city. The conversation flows easy and after a couple more rounds of drinks, the four of you are laughing so hard that you’re drawing attention from other tables. When everyone finishes eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and find your waitress. You give her your credit card, insisting that she charges the bill to your card.

You’d been having a great time with Bucky and his friends so far and you wanted to thank them for inviting you to have dinner with them. They had been so welcoming to you and have made your trip less lonely, even if only for one night. You return to the table.

When the waitress comes back to your table, she returns your credit card to you and the three men share a confused look.

Bucky cocks his head at you, “Did you pay for yourself already, doll? I was going to.”

“She actually covered the whole table,” the server informs them before leaving.

“Wait, what? You paid for us all?” Steve asks in disbelief.

Sam looks to you, waiting for an answer. Bucky just looks at you, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so inviting. I enjoyed hanging out with you all tonight,” you look down at the table, feeling almost as if you’d done something wrong. 

Sam says your name, “That was really unnecessary, but thank you. We enjoyed your company. We get sick of each other, it was nice to have you join us. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Steve concurs, “I’m glad you could come. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, sincerely.”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. It was no problem.”

You turn to look at Bucky. He’s still in the same position - eyes trained on you and brows furrowed. You worry you’ve done something wrong and gently reach between the two of you and take his hand in yours. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and finally speaks. 

“Thank you,” you can tell there’s more he wants to say, though. Your group stands and heads to the front to wait for another taxi. After you step out the front doors, Bucky softly grabs your arm, holding you back. Steve and Sam continue walking. 

“Thank you for paying, I really appreciate the gesture. But I invited you tonight because I enjoy spending time with you and I wanted you to meet my friends. You shouldn’t have had to pay for your own dinner tonight, let alone everyone else’s. I do appreciate it, though, and I know Steve and Sam did too,” he gives you a sincere look and you sheepishly look down at the ground. He lifts his hand to cup your face and tilts it up to him, forcing you to make eye contact. “But all that being said, don’t you dare try and pull that again,” he says in a more authoritative tone.

You feel a wetness forming in your panties at the soft yet demanding tone he uses. You’re too shocked at the sudden dominance that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod up at him. 

“Good girl,” he praises in a low voice.

“You guys coming or what?” you hear Sam’s voice call.

You hadn’t even realized that taxi had arrived. Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to your lips before leading you to the car with a hand on the small of your back. Bucky sits inbetween you and Sam again and rests a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to slipping underneath the hem of your dress that had ridden halfway up your thighs. All you can focus on the whole car ride back to the resort is the feel of Bucky’s calloused hands on your leg and the pulsing at the apex of your thighs.

After what feels like hours, the cars pulls to a stop in front of the resort and you step out of car, followed by Bucky, who places his hand back on you immediately after he gets out. Steve and Sam make conversation, Bucky occasionally making a noncommittal grunt in response. After the elevator brings all of you to the fifth floor, Steve and Sam say goodnight and thank you again for dinner. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hand tightens around your hip when they mention you paying for dinner. You say goodnight to them and they look at Bucky, probably expecting him to say goodnight and follow them back to their rooms. 

You’re not quite sure what you expect Bucky to do, but all you know is that the tension is thicker than Bucky’s biceps that are currently straining against his shirt sleeves.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he tells his friends without taking his eyes off you.

“Okayyy,” Steve drags out the word as him and Sam turn and walk away, muttering and laughing to themselves.

Once you and Bucky are alone in the hall, he gently backs you up against the wall. He leaves one hand on your hips and tangles the other in your hair. He pulls you into a kiss that you fervently reciprocate. You’re sure that your panties are soaked at this point. You clench your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Bucky spreads your legs with his knee and slots his thigh against your center, forcing your dress to rise up. You moan into his mouth at the relief and buck your hips into him, your drenched underwear are dragging across his pants and you’re sure they’ll leave a dark spot from your arousal. 

Bucky pulls away from the kiss, but pushes his thigh harder against you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” his voice is filled with lust, “Rutting up against my thigh in the middle of the hallway, skirt up so anyone can see how soaked your panties are for me.”

You whimper into Bucky’s ear. It turns you on to hear such filthy things coming from his usually polite mouth.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg, desparate for release.

“Please what, babydoll? Tell me what you need,” he demands.

He presses his bulge into your stomach and you can’t string together a sentence.

“I know, honey. You just wanna come, huh?” he looks down at you with a pitying expression and you nod your head so hard you get dizzy, too fuzzy-headed to care how desperate you look. He chuckles at you, “Say it. Tell me you need me to take care of you.”

“Please, Bucky! Make me come, take care of me. Just do something, please!” you sound absolutely wrecked and the groan Bucky lets out while he rocks his hips into you lets you know he gets off on it. 

“Fuck. Unlock your door, princess,” he tells you, pulling away and waiting by your door.

You’re surprised at how quickly you manage to dig you key card out of your purse and open the door in your aroused state. As soon as the door is open, Bucky grabs you and spins you around to face him.

“Jump,” he orders.

You drop throw your purse onto the table and wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck before jumping. He catches you by the backs of your thighs and effortlessly carries you to the bed, peppering kisses along your face and neck the whole way.

He throws you onto the bed and pulls off your shoes, placing a kiss to each of your shins. He then flips you onto your stomach and unties your dress. The way he manhandles you so easily sends a fresh gush of arousal to your core. He helps you shimmy out of your dress as he kicks off his shoes. You’re left in only your panties and he takes in the sight of your practically naked body and groans. He uses one hand to undo his belt and uses the other to reach down and palm your breast. 

“Goddamn, babydoll. No bra?” 

You don’t have the mental capacity to explain that you wouldn’t have been able to wear one with the open back dress, settling instead for reaching up and pulling him down by his collar until he’s straddling your hips. He leans back and unbuttons his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined abs one button at a time, throwing it to the floor when he’s done. He has a dark trail of hair leading down into his dress pants where you can see the large outline of his hardened cock. He leans down atop of you, veiny forearms resting on either side of your head. 

He snakes a hand down between the two of you and dips his fingers in the waistband. “Can I take these off, babydoll?”

You nod and reach to his neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t budge. 

“Need words, honey.”

“Yes Bucky, please.”

“Good girl,” he rewards you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

His hand makes its way beneath your panties and he runs a finger through your abundant wetness, dragging it up to your clit. He uses your slick to rub circles into the sensitive bud. He pulls away from the kiss and you try to chase his mouth. He stops you by holding your head to the mattress with a hand on your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens. He looks down at you and spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow for me, baby.”

You follow his order without a second thought. Once you swallow, he brings his hand down to your neck. He rewards you by bringing a finger to your entrance and slowly pushing into your tight hole. 

“Fuck, doll. I wanna be in this perfect little pussy. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up with my big cock? Wanna feel me deep inside you?”

“Yes, Bucky! Fu- I want it so-fuck so bad.”

He quickly adds a second finger and begins pumping them inside you at a brutal pace. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly and he watches your face to gauge your reaction. When your eyes roll back into your head and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, he grins and tightens his grip a little more.

The lack of blood flow to your head makes you feel fuzzy in the best way. You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Bucky keeps his pace as he fucks you on his fingers and keeps a careful eye on you, watching for the telltale signals of your climax. When he sees you squeeze your eyes shut and feels your pussy clench, he pulls his hand out altogether. 

You look up at Bucky and loosens his grip on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there. You buck your hips up, your orgasm fading away rapidly. Bucky uses one hand to pin your hips to the bed.

“Bucky, no,” you whine, “I was so close.”

“I know, doll,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. “You were a bad girl earlier when you paid for dinner. You’re supposed to let me treat you. Let me take care of you. You wouldn’t let me take care of you then, so I’m not sure I should take care of you now.”

“Bucky please,” you beg, “Won’t do it again, promise. Just-nngh just take care of me please. Need you to make me come,” you hope your pleading is enough to convince him.

Bucky lets out a deep groan and smashes his lips against yours. He makes his way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. He ever so softly bites down on your nipple and you thread your fingers through his hair. He continues to trail kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your panties, he places wet kisses against the soaked fabric. You try to buck up into his mouth, but his hand is still pinning you down.

Finally, he reaches into the waistband of your panties and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and throw them on the floor with your dress. You get another glimpse of the rock-hard bulge in his dress pants and you know that can’t be comfortable for him, but his attention is all on you right now. He makes himself comfortable between your legs and uses his hands to spread your pussy apart, getting a good look at it.

“Fucking perfect. Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen, baby.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his lips are on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue. You grab onto his hair with one hand and grab the sheets with the other. The screams you let out are almost pornographic. He alternates between licking your arousal up from where it’s seeping out of your hole and giving your sensitive clit attention. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you feel yourself returning to the edge of the orgasm you’d just been denied. 

He laps at your core and uses both hands to hold your hips down onto the bed. When your heavy breathing and the movement of your hips give away your oncoming orgasm, he pulls away again. 

“NOO,” you practically scream, on the verge of tears. “Bucky,” you sob. 

“That one was for giving me a hard on at dinner when you downed that whiskey.”

Before you have a chance to complain anymore, he places one last kiss on your clit and stands from the bed. You watch as he undoes his pants and they pool at his ankles. You can see a wet spot on his boxers where he’d been leaking precum. He drops those too and you’re met with the sight of him. His cock bobs up against his stomach.

He’s thick and long, with a patch of dark curly hair at his base. The tip is pink and shiny with his arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight and you want nothing more than to lick it off, but he crawls back onto the bed before you can make any move to do so. He hovers over you and you can feel the weight of his cock resting on your lower stomach. 

“You want this, honey? Want to come all over my cock? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning?” he ruts against your stomach, waiting for a response.

“Please, Bucky. ‘S all I want. Ah- fuck. Need it so bad. I need to come.”

“I got you, sweet girl,” he gives you a reassuring look as he grabs his base and guides himself to your drenched core.

He pushes his fat tip into you, watching your face for any signs of pain. You’re so wet and aroused that he almost slides right in. You try to push your hips down, desparate to feel him deeper. He’s quick to pin you down again. 

“Greedy girl.”

He eases himself into you at his own pace until his hips are flush against yours. You feel his pubic hair rubbing at your clit and begin to claw at his back, needing him to move.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Ah- god damn it,” you look up at him with pleading eyes, “Need you to move, baby.”

For the first time tonight, he listens to one of your demands. He slowly pulls all the way out, letting you feel every inch of his cock before he slams back in so hard it pushes you up the mattress. He braces himself with one arm on the bed and holds your hip with his other hand and sets a brutal pace. He thrusts deep and hard, tip pounding against your cervix with every punishing thrust. He moves the hand on your hip to rub at your clit.

“I’m not gonna last long baby. Fuck- be ah- be a good girl and come for me.”

You’re not far off and when he hits that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a scream. 

“Fuck, right there!” you pant.

He rubs at your clit and thrusts into your g-spot. You feel yourself hurdling toward your orgasm for the third time tonight. Except this time, when you clamp down around Bucky’s cock, he redoubles his efforts instead of stopping. You see stars when you reach your peak and you drag your nails down Bucky’s back. 

“Such a good girl for me, fuck. Where-ah where do you want me baby?”

“Inside, Bucky, please,” you want to know what it feels like to be full of his cum. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, doll. So fucking good for me. My girl’s so good.”

You don’t miss the way he calls you his girl. And you certainly don’t mind it.

Bucky’s thrusts become shallow and his pace falters. He slams into you one last time and buries himself as deep as he can before shooting hot ropes of his seed into you. Once he empties his balls into you, he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. He slots his lips against yours and the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.

Once the two of you have caught your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and walks to the bathroom. You eye the dimples in his buttcheeks as he walks away. He returns shortly with a wet cloth and kneels between your thighs. He gingerly cleans his mess, aware of how sensitive you are. 

When he finishes, he throws the cloth onto the floor and climbs up the bed to join you. You climb under the sheets and fold them over on the other side, offering Bucky the space. He happily lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

“It was so good, Buck,” you manage to respond in your exhausted state. 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to punish you, too,” you can’t see his face, but you know he has a cocky smirk on his face.

“You’ll have to show me, then.”

“Oh, believe me, sweet girl, I plan to.”

You fall asleep against Bucky’s strong chest, his hand scratching soothingly at your back.

[periprose]

Logan Gains a Guardian Angel

Logan Howlett x Angel!Reader

You're a mutant with white wings. You go by the name Angel, and you're best friends with Logan. You could call yourselves two peas in a pod, two loners who are only loyal to each other, supposedly platonic- but you're deeply in love with him.

Logan thinks of you as his guardian Angel, because you always keep him to a higher standard- he wants to be better because of you. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you. To him, you're heaven sent- trauma and all.

Knives Drip Chocolate

Logan comforts you after you have a panic attack involving a knife in the X-Mansion's kitchen

When Flight Comes to Fire

After a fiery accident during a mission, your wings are burned. Logan's desperate that you'll be okay and he visits you at the hospital.

[stories4thepack]

Save you

Carol Danvers x vampire reader

Warnings: blood, violence, vampire stuff

You get hurt on a mission and Carol is there to help you get better. Even if that means you gotta bite her….

Kamala’s grin had fallen for the first time since the four of you had originally met. Monica was sat Beside you, watching as the few remaining Skrull vanished from the ship in a flash of light. Sorrowful silence replaced their prescience

You leaned against the table, desperately attempting to cover the wound on your abdomen with your hand. You wore a plain, black shirt and matching leather jacket which kindly assisted in hiding the dark blood seeping through the fabric.

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

Monica asked, her stoic face shifting into an expression of pure concern. You tried your best to smile, swallowing down the painful hiss as you got to your feet, stumbling as you took a step away. Kamala is darting to you immediately and Carol dashes to your side, fear moulding her clay face.

“Im alright, just tired. Don’t worry.”

You glanced at Kamala, who’s eyes were tearing up with guilt. She had tried to shield you as the large, rock had fallen, but she had swapped places the second she used her powers. As a result, a large piece of the boulder had dug itself into your body. Though, now it had been removed, the wound itself refused to heal without blood. You watched as Kamala opened her mouth, but you desperately shook your head, almost begging her not to mention it.

“She got trapped under one of the rocks that fell.”

She cries out and Carols eyes widen with shock. She had seen you disappear for a moment as she had blasted the falling boulders, but she had never thought for a second that you had been caught in the rocks, never mind been impaled by one of the shards.

“You’re coming with me”

“Carol-“

You began to protest, but the Captain began to drag you from the others into the room down below. Once there, she forced you to sit down, quickly tearing your jacket off your shoulders.

“Carol-“

“Y/n, im going to help you.”

“Carol!”

You tried again as she lifted the bottom of your shirt up, revealing the deep, seeping wound. Blood flowing down onto your vibranium infused trousers. She froze, staring in horror at the wound.

“Carol, you can’t help. The wound is way too bad, I need blood. Pass me one of the bags in the fridge.”

Carol remains staring fixedly at the wound, almost as if she was contemplating her next move. She slowly raises her head, meeting your soft gaze.

“There aren’t anymore. I forgot to ask fury for more.”

“What?!”

You shout, yelping as pain shot through your body at the action. Panic bubbles inside of you. Without blood and with such an injury, your hunger would grow faster than usual. You were a danger to everyone in this ship. You needed to go. Get out. Before you hurt anyon-

“I’m going to help you.”

Carol says again, releasing the words deliberately slowly as she moves her hair away from her throat. Allowing her neck to be on full display. Your eyes flashed red at the sight, hunger boiling in the pit in your stomach and burning through your veins. You snap your jaw shut, locking it in place and lurching away from your girlfriend. She grasps your hands, holding them tightly as she speaks gently.

“Please Y/n, let me help.”

“Captain-“

You muttered, leaning a little closer to where she is crouched in front of you as you begin to succumb. She gasps lowly as your lips graze her neck, pressing light kisses against her pale skin. You feel her arms wrap around your shoulders, fingers rubbing small, encouraging circles on your back.

“Go ahead.”

She whispers into your ear, sending chills throughout your body. You sigh, sinking into the crook of her neck, running your tongue gently over the skin there, attempting to numb it a little before you hurt her.

Your fangs slip easily from your gums, trailing the flesh until they froze on your girlfriends pulse point, you pull the strap of her top down her shoulder a little, giving you a greater area to work with. She moans quietly as your fangs sink into her skin, breaking into the vein. Her blood flows into your mouth, the warmth soothes the pain of the wound, you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her up into your lap. She throws her head back, gasping up at the ceiling as you drink. Her hands trail down your chest to where your wound is, feeling the skin as is twists and knits itself back together. She feels you press further into her throat, your fingers curling around her hips as you attempt to control yourself.

“Y/n”

She mutters, the name barley a whisper through the blur of pain and pleasure. But you hear her, slowly retracting your fangs from her throat before trailing your tongue over the wound. Gathering the blood that had attempted to slip away from you.

“Thank you”

You mutter, barley away from her throat before she grasps your shirt by the scruff and pulls you into a kiss. Her tongue tracing your lips, tasting her own blood in your mouth. She feels the vibration of your moan ripple up your throat as she breaks away. Her lips find your neck and she grins, before biting down on the flesh there in return. You close your eyes, feeling her lips suck against your cool skin. Trying hard not to moan in case the others hear-

“Carol, we’re not alone on the ship, remember?”

You manage to force out, missing her touch as she gets up quickly. A sly grin painting her face.

“We’ll finish this when we’re alone then.”

she chuckles, giving a final, desperate kiss to your lips before leaving. Wiping the blood from her neck and leaving you a flustered mess behind her.

(sorry for any spelling mistakes, I did this in The car 😅)

[tarithenurse]

A suitable arrangement - 5

Fandom: MCU AU. Pairing/starring: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader. Word count: 1000. Content: All the smut, loss of virginity. A/N: Hope you liked this little series.

5.

His lips drift from your mouth to your jaw. Teeth nibbles below your ear before his attention shifts to you exposed throat and clavicle. He is supporting his weight on an elbow, leaving the other hand free to explore your waist before drifting further up, cupping your breast through the shift.

Butterflies are beating up a storm in you stomach at his touch. The attention. But it feels so good, you don’t want it to stop. Your hands are in his hair, tugging whenever he pauses to gauge your attention.

“I need you to tell me what you like,” he murmurs, face dipped to the crook of your neck, “can you do that for me?”

You nod first but then manages to whisper: “Yes...but I don’t know it myself.”

Kissing you passionately, his tongue caressing your lips and the cavern of your mouth, he hums before pulling back.

“Then let me...”

Pulling back, he pushes up your shift to kiss a trail from your belly and down to your private part where he flicks your pearl with his tongue. Immediately, the strange sensation within you strengthens and your grip in his hair tightens, earning a growl from him.

Next thing you know, his face is buried between your thighs, and he is (for lack of a better word) devouring you. Kisses, bites, licks. Anything he does makes your body sing and your back arch. Your breath cannot fill your lungs.

“Ah!”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, startled by how loud you suddenly are. But Loki reaches up, finding your wrists one by one and grasping them tightly. You are left to bite onto your lip to fight the obscene cries that threaten to fall from your mouth as he continues the ministrations.

Broad licks from your entrance before they narrow in and circle your pearl. Shallow thrusts of his tongue into your core, causing a squelch each time that has heat rush to your face.

“Let me hear you,” he pauses to say, kissing your inner thigh.

He rearranges your hands to get a different grip, freeing up one of his hands which promptly flies to your nether regions, thumb pressing onto the pearl and causing you to jolt with delight. But soon long fingers play with your folds, prodding at the entrance and you tense in concern, afraid it will hurt.

It doesn’t. Far from.

As a single digit wiggles into you, it finds a spot that makes your toe curls and your voice escape in a low keening. That, combined with the work of Loki’s tongue and lips, brings you to a new high. And when he adds a finger, the feeling only intensifies, causing your legs to clamp around his shoulders and your back to arch. A knot is tightening within you, too hot and tense to be ignored.

“Loki I – I –” you gasp.

He nods, dark hair bobbing wildly and then ads a third finger to your core, stretching you impossibly and speeding up the thrusting motion and the wriggling while he suckles on your pearl.

You’re on the verge of something. And you want it! Tilting your pelvis just so, you chase the feeling and suddenly the tension snaps, causing your being to be flooded with a new sensation.

“Lokiii!”

Maybe it’s your begging for him, maybe it’s something else, but he crawls over you quickly, arms enveloping you as you shiver from the ecstasy and suddenly something else is pressing into you. Blunt and warm. Inch by inch he fills you up until you can take it no more and you’re just about to say so when he stills, forehead to yours. His hot breath fans your face and his green eyes are all you can see.

Then he begins to rock slowly.

Instinctively, you legs curl up around him, ankles crossing behind him and you feel how you pull him in further, causing him to groan.

“So good,” he promises, kissing your face.

Slowly, he keep rocking, pulling out farther each time he retreats a bit and you can feel how you are made for each other because he fills you and touches upon places within you that make your breath hitch again and your head fall back.

“Oh please oh please oh please,” you almost chant as you realize the tension is building once more.

“Yes,” he kisses your neck, “let me hear you, my lark.”

His voice is strained but you are only vaguely aware of it. Your nails are digging into the muscles of his back as you cling on for dear life, knowing that if you didn’t then you would be thrashing and squirming as it feels like your body is filling not just with him but with the glowing heat from your core.

“M-more,” you beg him.

He moves you easily, presses your legs to your chest as your ankles come to rest on his shoulders. The first few thrusts hurt a bit but the sting is pleasant and soon the pleasure is ten-fold, hundred-fold. Your voice is keening, his name falling from your lips as he slams into you, making the bed shake.

“So good to me, lark,” he praises you on the few gasps he manages to free from his chest. “Please.”

You’re only half aware that he is begging for something and you can’t comprehend what he wants because you are too far gone. All you know is how tight your body is gripping him, causing his thrusts to turn sloppy as your world explodes. You are only vaguely aware that his thrusts somehow deepen as he shouts your name and then goes still, his member throbbing within.

After a moment, he pushes your legs apart, allowing them to fall to the bed as he lowers his body to yours. You greet him with open arms, envelop him as you both return to your little world of peace. You can feel his heart’s thundering slow through his back where your palm lays.

[lokis-dark-queen]

Hot Chocolate

(Loki/Reader Fluff Drabble )

Summary: Loki is obsessed with chocolate. With your help he discovers the delectable treat that is hot chocolate, and appreciates how desirable you are.

Warnings/Notes: Very light suggested smut at the end. Just Loki being a chocolate fiend and a flirt. I count anything under 1,000 words as a Drabble.

Word Count: 964

*photos from Pinterest*

If there was one fact that was confirmed true about Loki, it was that he loved chocolate. Ever since his first chocolate candy bar, he was addicted. Like a bloodhound, he could sniff out the decadent sweet from another room. He would follow the scent to the source and then devour whatever was there. He was a frequent customer at the closest bakery to the tower. He claimed that their chocolate chip cookies were the best he ever had. Little did he know, with his limited time on earth, there were many other places with chocolate chip cookies. He liked his cookies soft, warm, and the chocolate chips slightly melted. He loved chocolate candy of any type, however, he didn’t like mint chip ice cream. He claimed that the mint tried to overpower the taste of the chocolate too much.

Here, on this cold December night in New York, flurries of snow floated through the air as they were visible from the highest rooms of the Avengers tower. Tony and his robots hung up Christmas decorations that adorned the once bland halls. Natasha and Clint decorated the towering evergreen in the common room. Thor had nearly drunk his weight in mead and passed out on the couch, his snoring attempting to be drowned out by the Christmas music coming through the speakers of the television. Through the multitude of smells including pine and cinnamon, Loki was stopped in his tracks as he walked towards the common room, the familiar smell hanging in the air… chocolate.

Loki walked faster toward the kitchen of the common room, his chocolate craving rivaling that of a menstruating woman. As he turned the corner he observed the controlled chaos of the room, Natasha and Clint arguing about where ornaments should go on the tree, his brother out cold, and you in the kitchen.

Saying that Loki thought about you would be an understatement. He fantasized about you, watched you from afar, and built up a surprising amount of courage to speak to you. Loki kept a certain distance from the other members of the team on purpose. When it came to you, however, Loki stayed away out of fear. He feared that you were revolted by him, as many were. You never made it obvious, you smiled at him, said hello when you passed him in dim hallways, you never came off as disgusted by him. Loki’s self-doubt said otherwise.

The god clenched his jaw as he carefully stalked over to you, his sense of chocolate driven curiosity overcame his hesitancy to be near you.

“Excuse me.” He speaks up from behind you with a gentle softness in his deep voice.

“Oh, Loki… Do you need something?” You were slightly thrown off by Loki approaching you. However, you couldn’t deny the way that your heart skipped a beat.

“No no, I was just curious about what you were making.”

You smile, even with your limited interaction, you knew he had a sweet tooth for chocolate. “You would love it! It’s called hot chocolate, it’s a drink.”

Not even the terrifying god of mischief himself could hide the light that came to life in his eyes, “You can drink it?” He asks in disbelief.

You try your best to hold back a giggle at the thousand year old god who was amazed by something as simple as hot chocolate. Part of you feels like you have been taking the highly beloved beverage for granted at his childlike response, “Here,” You take the warm mug and hand it to him, “try some.”

Loki was almost too eager to take the mug from your soft hands. His skilled digits brushed against your knuckles as he took it. A hot flush brushed your cheeks from the short contact.

Before he could rush the warm mug to his soft lips you grabbed his wrist, causing him to almost spill the sacred liquid, “Careful, it’s very hot.” You emphasized.

Loki smirks, “Thank you darling, however, I don’t believe it’s just the beverage that is too hot to handle.” His voice darkens.

Your stomach flips at his flirty remark. Your brain shuts down for a few seconds. You couldn’t believe it, the man of your dreams was flirting with you.

All you could let out was a childish giggle as Loki slowly raised the cup to his lips. He took an anticipated sip. His eyes close and for the first time, you notice how beautiful his eyelashes are.

He is silent for a few seconds, basking in the chocolate bliss he has just partaken in.

“That was… incredible.” He breathes out in amazement.

He goes to hand the cup back to you, however, you push it back in his hands, “It’s yours, I could never indulge myself as blissfully as you have.”

Loki smirks and moves closer to you, the people around you fade into the background.

“What a shame, it is important to appreciate the simple pleasures in life…” he places his hand on your waist, “so that the important pleasures feel so much better.”

The hot chocolate was long forgotten as a burning desire for the god burned in your core.

“What do you mean by important pleasures?” You question him with eager curiosity.

Loki scans the room before leaning to whisper in your ear secretly, “Come to my room and I’ll teach you all about pleasures.”

The two of you vacated the kitchen, those around you barely took notice at your leave. The hot chocolate sat, cooling and forgotten on the counter because Loki found a treat far more desirable than the midgardian invention that was chocolate. Well… at least for now, Loki would have his fill of chocolate later. Right now, he wanted to indulge in the special pleasure that was you.

[softfem-dom]

the k-12 experience 🍊 ,, featuring lowiron!reader's path through the school.

The people are only now starting to realize the way the cake is getting spoiled, sweetness rotting. only seeing the dramatic rise after the downfall that nobody noticed <33

⌢⠀ ★ .ᐟ

C H A P T E R S :

⌢❛ wheels on the bus ft. logan howlett ╯ " don't be a dick and babysit "

⌢❛ class fight ft. john allerdyce(pyro) + kitty pryde ╯ " for the throath, go for the throath "

⌢❛ the principal ft. scott summers ╯ " shooting at the angels while claiming you're the good guy "

⌢❛ show and tell ft. charles xavier / magneto ╯ " I'm on display for all you fuckers to see "

⌢❛ nurse's office ft. jean grey + logan howlett ╯ " just let me go into the nurse's office, I'm pale as that loose-leaf paper "

⌢❛ drama club ft. hank mccoy ╯ " you overanalyze every every word I say "

⌢❛ strawberry shortcake ft. ororo munroe + jean grey ╯ " feeling unsure of my naked body. stand back, watch it taking shape "

⌢❛ lunchbox friends ft. anne marie + kitty pryde ╯ " come to my(e), friendship that will last forever "

⌢❛ orange juice ft. logan howlett ╯ " ordering oranges off the menu, the way you look is not an issue "

⌢❛ detention ft. hank mccoy ╯ " please don't be mad if I don't smile back, alright? "

⌢❛ teacher's pet ft. logan howlett ╯ " do you regret? the things we shared and I'll never forget "

⌢❛ high school sweethearts ft. kitty pryde ╯ " could you hold me through the night? put your lips all over my mine "

⌢❛ reccess ft. ororo munroe ╯ " too naive to even care 'bout the words she whispered while she brushed out my hair "

[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?” 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 brunette 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, pivoting side to side in her 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 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 comes with me to get that looking more human-like,” 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 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 that 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 Reggie,” 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,” Reggie 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 two 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​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

[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

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!

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.

[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.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

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[motherofdogs1010]

Need to Know I (Peter Parker x Reader)

Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"

Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

Warnings: older woman/younger man, small age gap, everyone is adult age!, cheater Bucky, fratboy Peter, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex Look at Masterlist for more warnings

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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

Part 1

TWO MONTHS AGO

Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.

"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.

"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.

Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.

"Are you having fun?"

Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.

"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."

"My babyface makes it that way", Peter joked.

Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.

Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.

Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.

Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?

Of course that was the main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.

"It's a cute babyface", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.

"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."

Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.

Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her hips.

"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink.

Y/N felt surprised, she was older than Peter by 7 years and she wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes occasionally roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.

She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?

"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."

~

Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night

The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.

But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.

"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."

As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.

"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.

What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write

She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.

Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.

"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."

Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.

"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."

She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.

"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.

Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.

Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.

"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter asked as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.

I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)

Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.

"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter groaned as he gripped the sink below her.

His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)

Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.

The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.

You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely

She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.

Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.

Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten

She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.

Baby, I need to know, mmm

With a groan, Y/N felt her head pounding as an alarm was ringing; she buried her face in her pill-- wait, her pillow was normally soft, not firm and warm.

"Sorry, I forgot to turn that off", someone said in a rough voice.

Opening her eyes quickly, Y/N quickly found that she hadn't made it to her room; the events of last night quickly rushing back to her as she remembered everything.

Looking up, she saw that was indeed in Peter's bed, he was shirtless and his muscles bulging as he reached across to turn off his phone alarm. She could remember now stumbling back to Peter's room for round whatever, she could not remember how many times they had already had sex before they made it to his room.

It was then that she realized she must be back at his fraternity and she groaned inwardly.

But she remember she was lucky she was consistent with her birth control now that she thought about it with the amount of times she let Peter cum in her last night.

Rubbing her eyes as she sat up, Y/N contemplated her life decisions and her mind beginning to try and form some kind of plan of doing the walk of shame when Peter plopped down back into the bed.

"You wanna go get breakfast?"

[0blobthefish0]

Lucky

kate bishop masterlist | main masterlist

part 2

Kate Bishop x Female Reader 677 words

Luck seems to sweep you off your feet, literally.

You hugged your coat tighter around you, your breath creating plumes of white in the bitingly cold air as you trudged further down the path. Your walk from home longer now that you had taken the scenic route through the park. Frost tipped grass lay untouched as it glinted in the sunlight and trees stood bare as they leaned over the path. Winter birds flitted through their branches and tweeted songs, a small smile tugged at your lips and you breathed in a deep breath that stung your lungs.

You hear a shout from behind you-

Suddenly, your feet are swept from underneath you. All oxygen left you as you hit the ground. Hard. There's no time to process before a slobbery tongue is lapping at your face. Panic rises as you try and move away to take a breath, but it's adamant and moves with you. Your arms cover your face as it tries to nose through the gap. And then you let out a laugh. A dog. It's just a dog.

"Sorry! God, I am so sorry." You hear and then the dog's being pulled away by the collar. "I tried to warn you but I didn't know what he was gonna do until it was too late," you could hear the embarrassment in her voice and you gave her a smile, her face obscured by the blinding sun behind her.

"It's alright, I'm fine, really," you chuckle getting up from the ground as she continues to apologise. You brush the dirt off of you before standing up straight. Your eyes widen as you look at the dog's owner - Kate Bishop. You're suddenly acutely aware of every beat of your heart because she was Kate Bishop, your high school crush. The person your friends used to tease you about, sending you knowing looks every time she walked into the room, kissy-faces behind her back when she was talking to you, and now she was in front of you.

"Well this is lucky," Kate smiled abashedly, recognising you too.

"Yeahh," you smile, "I haven't seen you since high school." Kate's smile drops slightly and she purses her lips.

"No, I-I meant the dog, his name is Lucky." Your eyes drop to look at the handsome retriever with only one eye, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as his back wiggles back and forth in-time with his tail. Your heart plummets into your stomach and you bite your lip nervously.

"Oh." Your lips are pulled into a thin line as silence falls over you. You can feel the sweat beginning to form, the awkwardness of the situation making you want to run away and to never see anyone ever again was prominent.

Lucky jumps up at you, breaking the awkward moment, and you're back on the ground, on your knees this time. A grin on your face as you scratch behind his ears and stroke his face.

Kate looks down at you with a soft smile on her face. Lucky has always been happy to see anyone, but he's never been so happy to meet you. Maybe it was fate; to run into you after so many years.

You look up to see Kate's blue eyes already looking at you and you quickly look back at Lucky before getting up. Silence falls over you again and you awkwardly turn to the side.

"Well I should- get going. Bye!"

And you're walking away before Kate can even reply.

Kate watches you and she opens her mouth before closing it; her shoulders sag and she turns on her heel in the opposite direction.

"Screw it," she mumbles under her breath and she turns back around. "Y/n, wait!"

Kate's jogging to catch up to you before she's standing in front of you once again. "How about coffee tomorrow?" She asks hopefully and you can't stop the smile from growing.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great! Here's my number," and you're passing her your phone, "text me." You nod your head and she waves goodbye, Lucky's leash tugging her away.