#this time I decided to slow it down and read it

[squeefishy]

It’s a resolutely average day. The sky is a muddy shade of gray, and seems to enjoy terrorizing the city with the possibility of rain. You almost grabbed an umbrella, but if the sky can't make up its mind then neither could you.

You bump into someone, a college student most likely, and while you stumble back their papers go flying. “Sorry,” he mutters, round glasses slipping down his long nose. You read the text above his head almost on instinct and try to choke back a laugh.

TIMES SPILLED COFFEE ON SOMEONE: 57

Yeah, that’s… not surprising. You watch him nearly trip as he hurries away and nearly dump all of his papers to the ground for a second time. You’re not quite sure which universal force decides which stats are displayed for each person, but you hope for his sake that spilling coffee isn’t truly the most interesting thing about him.

You shove your hands deep into your pockets to ward off the chill and carry on. As you walk, you play your little game with yourself. You scan the area just over each person you pass’ head. What is the best stat that you can find? Which one makes you smile, which one makes you blink several times in shock?

You like people watching. You like being in crowds. It makes you feel like you belong, like you’re a part of something bigger than yourself. Knowing these random, charming little facts about people almost makes you feel like each person that you pass is your friend.

Unfortunately, the weather seems to be doing a pretty good job of intimidating people into staying inside, but you manage to catch a few good stats. NUMBER OF DIVORCES: 7 makes you do a double take, while NUMBER OF STAB WOUNDS: 23 causes you to miss a step as you try to make sure the person isn’t actively bleeding.

You cut through the park to make the walk back to your apartment shorter. It’s eerily silent, and unusually empty. The rusting of dry leaves sounds almost like whispers.

You notice the figure on the bench. You don’t know why your eyes were so drawn to him. It isn’t like he’s particularly tall, or wearing anything especially colorful. He just has a… gravity to him. Something the way he sits almost… lazily, draped over the bench like a viper coiled over itself.

You should have kept walking. Instead, your footsteps slow as you stare unashamedly at the figure. Maybe it’s because you’re so busy studying his long, black coat or glittering gold something twirling between his fingers that your eyes don’t flick up to his stat like they would if it was anyone else.

Two things happen at the same time. He notices you, and you finally read the text floating above his head.

His eyes are brown. They meet yours, and you are seen. You are known.

EXTRATERRESTRIALS KILLED: 27.

You want to run, but your feet move clumsily. You’re pinned like a bug in amber as he stretches to his feet and starts walking towards you. He moves slowly, as if he has all the time in the world.

It’s a knife. The thing that he was twirling in his hand was a knife. It flashes dangerously. The park is empty. There are no witnesses.

You swallow hard. “I don’t want any trouble.”

His face is cold. “Neither did I. But you're not supposed to be here.”

“Please. I’m not doing anything. I- I have a life here!”

He’s only a few feet away, and you finally find the strength to run. Not that it does you any good. The knife buries itself between your shoulder blades.

You fall to the ground. An inhuman cry of pain rips itself out of you. It hurts. It hurtsithurtsithurtsithurts

He’s standing over you and he has another knife, because of course he does. “I wasn’t sure about you at first. But I’ve been watching you for some time. You made my job quite… difficult.”

“Please,” you plead because even though you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re scared and you don’t want to die. There’s no sympathy in his face. Only a cold determination.

It’s so cold.

Something else flashes from under his coat. It’s a badge, you think.

The second knife finds its mark. The last thing you see is the number above his head tick up once with finality.

EXTRATERRESTRIALS KILLED: 28.

The sky opens up, and it finally starts raining.

You were born with the unique power to see the most interesting "stat" of a person floating over their head. For most, it's stuff like "TIMES WON GAMES OF POKER: 43," or "PROMISES BROKEN: 105." Today, you glance up at someone sitting nearby to see "EXTRATERRESTRIALS KILLED: 27."

[buckysm]

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★part one, part two,

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ part one word count 6k+

ᯓ★a/n: junie’s first post— so please show some love— i hope you like!! my inbox is always open to chat!

ᯓ★ summary: you and bucky strike an unlikely friendship during sleepless nights, and shared cigarettes. when crisis strikes the team is surprises by your hidden bond (i wrote this bc of a little fantasy of being in a secret situationship with bucky and the team finding out when bucky goes feral after reader goes missing during a mission)

ᯓ★ warnings/ tags/ tropes for the whole series: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut,  Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication, Mentions of torture off screen (to be added and expanded as i post part two) NOT BETA READ

These are the hands of fate/ You're my Achilles heel/ This is the golden age of something good and right and real

It started with a cigarette.

It started when he had lent you a lighter. He did not smoke, and you didn’t ask him why he had one.  

For him, it started months before then.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days muddled by an eternal haze of anger and frustration…His life had been stolen from him, along with his memories from before. He did not feel like he deserved redemption. He had done terrible things, had had terrible things done to him.

He found himself disassociating whenever he wasn’t on a mission. He did not feel real; he couldn’t joke around and feel good without betraying his past. Yet, his past was real, it happened. But Bucky couldn’t just move on, couldn’t just exist without the churning in his gut telling him he was dirty, he was dripping in sin, tarnished by the red in his ledger, filthy to the point of no return.

When he was told about you, his body turned taut with trepidation. Two sides of the same coin. You were injected with serum just like him. Made to do things and had things done to you just like him. And he had heard of you. They had called you serpiente, the serpent, the snake. You were deadly, never made a mistake. No one knew any identifying details about you, not even your gender. 

And it was his mistake, thinking you were a man. He yearned to be understood; maybe he would find companionship in you.

But then, you were not a man. The first time he beheld you, he had just finished a mission for Fury. Secret and dirty, he felt right at home doing SHIELD’s grunt work.

You were walking down the compound, side to side with Black Widow. He had assumed you were one of her brethren, maybe you had trained with her, a black widow yourself. Tony Stark pranced a few paces before you.

“Soldier, good you’re here! Come meet our newest recruit!”

Your smile was disarmingly bright. Pretty. He felt himself grow cold with fury. It was a smile that came easily to you. And your eyes, frustratingly  soft. You seemed at peace with yourself, and he hated that.  

He just stared at you in response. Eyes hard. Waiting for you to react to his lack of reciprocity. You didn’t bite his hook, just lightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride. 

“Nice to meet you, Stark was telling me about you, all good things, don’t worry. But I had heard about you from before—you know—we do have in common h-”

“We have nothing in common.” He snarled before walking away, fuming. How dare you? How dare you make chit-chat about the thing that haunted his life. Every waking hour, every nightmare he was haunted by his past. And you wanted to…what? Talk about it over jokes? No. He decided you had nothing in common.

Maybe your body count was higher than his, and he chose to ignore the elephant in the room. The fact that you were a beautiful woman and that that could be a weapon as much as it could be a vulnerability.

He hated you a bit more each time he saw you get along with the rest of the team. How dare you? 

He had thought, had been so sure, that the reason he was disliked was because of his past. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because you and the black widow seemed to do just fine. Maybe he was just broken, and maybe you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while his had festered like a virus. How dare you?

His despise grew with each smile, each laugh, each time you were slapped on the back.

Everything came to a head when he found you on the balcony. He had thought it was his balcony. His.

It wasn’t a balcony, more of a ledge. A floor that had been destroyed during a hulk mishap, had not been fixed, and did not look like it would be anytime soon. 

The wind was strong. You stood at the edge, facing the precipice. You seemed so peaceful. 

He stared at your profile, illuminated by the city lights. Your expression was sad. He had never seen it like that. Your lips tight, eyes fluttered shut. Where you about to jump?

He walked toward you, deliberately moving his limbs so that you heard his footsteps.

You turned unhurriedly, your eyes opening slowly. There was a small moment where he saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor he had not considered the possibility of it all being a facade. But months had passed, and your mask hadn’t slipped. Until now.

It was only a fraction of a vulnerable moment before you schooled your features. And it angered him for some reason. Seeing you so easily slip into the practiced mask. It made him just like the rest of them, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at both himself for not looking past and you for pretending. 

Before he could stop himself, before he could think, words were coming out of his mouth faster than he processed them. 

“Do not do that, don’t do that.”

You sighed, your mask falling to one of disdain. You looked disappointed in him, exasperated. It was a look of derision, he felt scorned, and yet it was better than the fake platitudes. 

“Do what? Now, what am I doing that deserves your anger?”

“Pretending,” Bucky grunted.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “So what am I supposed to do according to you, huh?” You walked away from the ledge toward him. He towered over you, head lowered to meet your defiant gaze. “Am I supposed to growl, frown, and hate myself for things I can’t control? Well, guess what, been there, done that! And, hey—guess again what happened. I hated it. So what if I am faking it? Maybe if I fake it hard enough, it’ll come true.”

“What’ll come true?” Bucky asked beside himself, snarling.

“Wanting to live, not letting them win. Because if I hate myself, then they win.” Your angry gaze wavered, turning sad. You looked away from him towards the city skyline. “I’ll go now, leave you alone to your self-hatred and whatever….” You started making your way to the battered elevator doors.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”

You had stopped walking away, your footsteps silent, but some sixth sense told him you had in fact paused.

He turned toward you. “I’m sorry.” He echoed.

You nodded, moving towards the ledge and sitting on it.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Careful there, doll face.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t want you to fall off.”

You stiffened slightly, taken off guard, not for the first time tonight. The sweet nickname coupled with his harsh voice made heat rise to your cheeks. You decided to appear as if you took it in stride. Not wanting him to know just how much his words meant to you. Wanting to hear him call you that forever.

Because as much as you told yourself otherwise, it had hurt when he brushed you off. You had looked up to him. 

You didn’t have any memories of your past before the experiments or the training, so maybe it was different for him. He had a life that was taken away from him — and you were just now learning to have one.

You heard about him, heard him even.  Heard his screams sometimes. Your handlers wanted to teach you a lesson of what would happen when you didn’t behave.

It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? When you passed each other in the hydra bases, he didn’t know who you were; that was part of your deal. No one expected a pretty girl to have a body count as high as yours. 

Bucky had killed about 20-something people, important ones. You knew that Natasha had a count of about six hundred and had shared the fact with you. Bucky had been Hydra’s tool, he was used in important missions only. While you…were a gun for hire basically. A knife for hire. You used your charms on men and women alike to disarm them enough. Your kills were always up close and personal. Sometimes you had to put yourself in compromised positions to do so. Bucky never had to. 

You knew that he had to be put under a lot, had to have his brainwashed again and again, and conditioned an inhumane amount of times. His brain rebelled, he had a life. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he had memories or faint encodings of a life outside.

But you were awake all of the time. You did things because there was no other option. You had to survive. You didn’t know otherwise.

You pondered in silence. And when it became too much for you, you fumbled into one of the multiple pockets on your jacket for your cigarettes. You stiffened when you remembered you had left the lighter on your bedside counter. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong, doll.” His voice was curious, less rough. He was standing somewhere behind you. You could feel the weight of his stare.

You wanted to comment on the pet names— but you didn’t want him to stop, so you swallowed a snarky remark. “I forgot my lighter.”

He made his way toward you, movements swift as he sat next to you, feet dangling on the edge. You understood him now, didn’t want him to fall. 

He slid his hand onto the pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a lighter.

You smiled at him. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed the lighter in your hand. 

His eyes were beautiful, darker than usual under the low light.

You tore away from his gaze. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you cupped the lighter and flicked it on.

You took a drag of the cigarette, enjoying the burn. Enjoying the strong scent, stronger than other cigarettes. It made your head light.

Banner had made them for you after you expressed sadness about not being able to enjoy any substances.

You heard a sniff. He had noticed it too.

You waited a second, leaving the smoke in your lungs, before exhaling. “It’s enhanced with something, Banner made it for me.”

He hummed. 

“You want one?” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, not wanting to turn your face fully.

“Thanks for offering doll, but I don’t smoke.”

You hummed, taking another drag. “Not even before?” your question was tentative, you wanted to see if he would open up to you.

He hummed softly. “I did yes, once or twice. But Steve couldn’t handle the secondhand smoke, so I stopped. Little asthmatic punk…”

Silence stretched out as you enjoyed the lightheaded sensation. Your limbs loosened, and you felt free. 

“D’ya miss him?” You turned fully toward him.

His eyes never strayed from the skyline as he answered,“I do. It’s different, we’ve both changed a lot. You know how it is, losing the past.”

“I don’t know, not really…” your voice was soft and resigned. 

His eyes flashed to yours. You didn’t know what to do with the full weight of his stare. “What do you mean by that doll?” His brows were furrowed. 

You sighed, not wanting to get into it. “It’s late…” You took out your AVENGER-sanctioned phone to check the time, 2:15 A.M.

“I’m going to sleep.” You lied. And you couldn’t stop more words from tumbling out of your mouth. Clumsy and rushed. “Same time tomorrow?”

A ghost of a smile pulled slightly at the corner of his lips. “See you doll face. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Jamie.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie….

He had been too quick to judge, and now he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts. His sleep was fitful, but he was granted a reprieve from his nightmares. Dreaming instead of the multitudes in your eyes. 

It was a slow day in the compound. He had a routine during slow days, he would go to his favorite training room and lose himself. The training room itself didn’t lack anything, but he had marked his territory with his glares at anyone who entered. He had achieved an unspoken ownership of that particular room.

After having you torment his dreams, however, he had to see you in person. He tried to contain himself, he started his routine in the training room. 

It lasted 42 minutes. 

No amount of dagger throws could get him to calm down. 

He found you on the tower’s common floor.

You hunched over a table, Banner at your side. Coming down was worth it.

“Well, good morning there Sarge, nice of you to come out of your room and join the land of the living.”

And he immediately regretted it.

“Stark!” Two voices proclaimed in tandem. You and Steve jumped to defend him, Steve’s voice was sharp, and yours was a playful whine.

“What? I’m just saying, he’s acting like a teenager!” Stark’s voice was a defensive grumble. He tinkered with the toaster in the kitchen area. 

“Oh as opposed to you, who behaves so maturely?” The tone of your voice was playful but had a hidden bite to it. Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate it.

You turned to smile at him, Steve turned to bicker with Tony. Bucky rolled his lips and moved to grab a mug, he poured himself a cup before walking away. 

He barely heard Stark’s remark on his parting, mentally berating himself for caring about the hurt look that soured your face when he did not return your smile. He shouldn’t care, caring was dangerous. It made him vulnerable and put him in a position where he could be easily hurt again.

He had to be careful, He did not want to break down the walls he had put up protecting himself and others from himself.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You almost didn’t show up. Hurt but not surprised by his attitude.

You paced the room you had on Natasha’s floor. She was not home, leaving you to pace away your conflicting thoughts.

Your heart had skipped a beat when he showed up. He never showed up, he was a ghostly presence in the compound. Part of the team, but never there for ‘team building exercises’…

It was 2:14 when you rushed to the elevator, a pounding of indecision in your chest. You told yourself it was curiosity. You needed to know more about him, needed to figure him out - maybe then you would be able to understand why he made you want…-

The silent elevator ride left you time to think

He is hurt, just projecting/ This could end badly/ This could end with a friendship/ He was an asshole/ He just needs a friend/ At the cost of your sanity?/

Two inner voices argued with each other in the back of your mind. You let them.

The elevator stopped, the doors slid open and there he was. The voices went quiet as soon as your eyes fell on him.

He leaned against a thick construction support post, overlooking the city skyline, his back to you.

“Nice of you to join me doll.”

DOLL?! Asshole, he dared to call you doll- yet acted coldly toward you in public?! You grunted angrily, mimicking his usual blasé attitude and walking to stand beside him, not looking at him.

A storm of anger raged inside you as you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline.

“Is everything alright doll?” His voice was softer, and you weren’t as angry anymore.

Yes he hadn’t smiled at you, but what exactly had made you expect that from him? Yes, he called you doll, but he was from the forties. Plus he hadn’t smiled at you before. And-what?  You had one conversation and suddenly you expected him to smile at you? You were delusional! This man was set in his ways, and maybe he was bored, but it meant nothing. He was bored and lonely, and you were overthinking everything. You were new at this, at socialization. Genuine socializing. You socialized a lot for your HYDRA days, but this was new. You were used to having the upper hand, being the one in control.

You sighed out your exasperation, letting your tense shoulders loosen.

“Mhm…” your eyes never strayed from the city.

You stood in comfortable silence. You were an expert at working yourself into a stupor. But honestly, you were about… twenty, twenty-one (you lost time during HYDRA). Yet you felt emotionally stunted- of course you did. You never had the chance to actually develop skills people your age did.

“This feels like a dream. Like I am hallucinating being free, and I will wake up from passing out due to torture and be back in my cell…” Words tumbled out of your mouth. You were also bored and lonely. Faking your way with the others made you exhausted.

He made no response, but you could tell he understood. And that was enough.  You fumbled for your cigarettes. He slid a lighter from his pocket, handing it to you wordlessly.

You took it from his hand, inhaling to light your smoke. 

“You know? it’s dumb… but I sometimes feel like screaming at them… like something deep inside of me yearns to scream and kick and throw whatever is around- to get out all my pent-up energy, maybe then I can pass out from exhaustion and sleep. And yea- the novelty of being free, and being in the fucking Avengers is slowly wearing off, and I just-” you sighed, you were talking and maybe he wasn’t even interested in hearing you whine. “And whatever, I should be grateful… it’s dumb…” You stopped yourself. Letting in the chilly New York air into your lungs. 

“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you face the full weight of his gaze. He was devastatingly beautiful. Your inhale was sharp. “Don’t feel bad about being angry, it’s valid feeling this way.”

You smiled then, “look at you, giving emotional advice. Who knew you were a big softy underneath that grouchy, grumbling exterior.”

He scoffed, but you could tell there was no real meaning behind it. Your smile grew.

His eyes lowered to your lips for a charged moment, before looking back to the city. “Those who can’t do, teach-”  His lips tugged slightly upwards, a glimpse of a smile.

You took a drag of your cigarette, staring unashamedly at his profile. “What do you do, when you are not brooding? Like what does one do for fun around here?”

“At two am in the afternoon doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks

“Are what?” your grin was teasing.

“Are on a mission or something.” His voice came out slightly strangled. 

“Or something…” you murmured, a yawn escaping you.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, you really liked big band music? Kind of… classy for a guy who threw himself off buildings.”

 “Hey, a man can appreciate good music and bad decisions.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Stark’s fine, sometimes… but his ego’s bigger than his bank account.”

 “If I had his money, I’d buy a planet and avoid people altogether.” You sighed, 

 “Doll, you’d get bored in two days.”

 “True. I’d need at least one grump to frown at me” 

He couldn’t hide his soft grin.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Paris. You think it’s as romantic as everyone says?”

“Probably less if I was there...”

 “You’re right. You’d make it a lot more broody.”

“And you’d make it a lot more… sneaky. You’d blend into the shadows and pickpocket tourists.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I could live off this forever.” Your spoke around a mouthful of pizza

Bucky grimaced “Takeout pizza? You call that food?”

 “Says the man who probably ate spam for dinner in the ‘40s.”

“Now doll, it was a delicacy back then.”

 “Spam’s not a delicacy in any era, Barnes.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever thought about getting a pet? Like a dog or something?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “Me, with a dog? Not sure I’d be a good influence.”

“Nah, they’d se through you.”

“I’m more of a cat person.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I like the quiet moments just before dawn. No one’s around to bother you.”

“Night’s better. Everyone’s already asleep. Feels like you’re the only one left.”

 “Until you realize there’s still someone like me lurking in the dark.”

 “Yeah, lucky me.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, any weird phobias? Mine’s spiders. Too many legs.”

Bucky shrugged “Needles. After Hydra? No thanks.”

You nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. But hey, at least you could crush a spider for me. And I can catch all your bulk when you pass out at the sight of a needle.”

“Ha, ha.” 

Someday, you’d get a real laugh out of him

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “If you weren’t a super soldier, what would you be doing?”

“Maybe a mechanic. Fixing cars, quiet life. You?”

 “Bartender. People tell you their secrets. It’s like espionage, but with cocktails.”

 “Sounds dangerous doll. What’s in the drink?”

You grinned “Depends on who’s asking.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I keep getting these flashes… Steve dragging me to Coney Island, insisting I’d love it. Turns out, I hate roller coasters.”

You rolled your lips, deciding on what to say “I don’t have any memories before hydra, but I dream about falling. Maybe I would love roller coasters.”

“I’ll take your word for it, doll. I prefer solid ground now.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever feel like the idea of ‘freedom’ is just another way to trap us? Like, what do we even do with it?”

“I dunno. Still figuring that out. But it beats following orders like a puppet.”

“Yeah. I just wish freedom came with an instruction manual.”

“If it did, doll, I’d probably ignore it. I don’t need another piece of paper dictating my life..”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You were late, and Bucky was ready to leave when he heard the elevator doors open. You held a full white plastic bag.

“Honey, I’m home, and I brought dinner!” you had a slight spring in your step, he turned toward you, a smile of pleasure and relief made its way into his expression without his consent. Your steps faltered slightly, your brows furrowing for a moment before a beaming smile took over, your eyes twinkling.  It was real, not a sarcastic grin, a smile! Your response only made his smile more pronounced -slightly, but still-.

“It’s good that you don’t smile, if you did people would pass out on the spot.”

He couldn’t stop the small laugh making its way out of his mouth. “Not you?”

“Not me, I’m made of stronger stuff.” You sat next to him, a bit farther from the ledge than usual. 

He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He took note of the way you eyed his legs, of your inhale, of the way you had to force yourself to look away.

“I wonder what would make you pass out.” His mouth ran away from his brain.

“Maybe take me to a fancy restaurant then you can try and find out.”

The thought made his heart race, he stopped himself from thinking about it. You were joking, it was friendly— you weren’t serious.

“I could, we could go on a few dates, and you would end it when you realize I’m too old and bitter for you doll. Maybe it’s best we stay here at 2:15 am where I can lend you a light.”

Your face soured to a pout. “Well I like my men a little bit older. But if you are telling me I’m not your type and you like old ladies, well then I can handle rejection, not the worst thing I’ve lived through.” Your smile was sarcastic, yet he could tell there was hurt behind your eyes.

“No doll, I don’t think anyone could reject you even if they tried.” 

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Your heart raced at his words, caught off guard by their raw sincerity. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, not ones that felt real anyway. A flippant remark was on the tip of your tongue, ready to deflect the tension, but it got stuck.

“You ever think about it? You know… dating?”

He snorted softly, “Who would date me? I’ve got more shit to deal than anyone would want to deal with.”

You grinned “Hey, at least you’re mysterious. I’m more… ‘potential assassin.’”

 “Ah, the classic ‘will she kill me on the first date’ dilemma. I can hide the metal arm, but you can’t hide the serial killer smile.”

You laughed loudly, shoving him playfully.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

It was a few weeks after the initial meeting, and meeting had become a habit, a tradition of sorts. 

You gave him a shy smile when others were present, and he reciprocated with a soft look in his eyes. 

He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn’t help himself from looking at you.

He leaned on the counter, eyes flicking to and from you. He beheld as you smiled and laughed with the rest. He had a bit of jealousy that you weren’t bestowing the smile upon him, but he held non of the contempt from before.

He sensed an annoying presence beside him.

“Hey creep, why don’t you join us for drinks tonight? As luck would have it, even your star-spangled ass is joining us.”

Said star-spangled ass turned to glare at Tony, his expression turning into a smile as his eyes shifted toward Bucky.

“Yeah, come with us, you’ll have fun, we promise.” 

A myriad of yeahs chorused from the rest of the team, including you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at the ceiling. “Whatever.” He muttered.

“Well that wasn’t a no!” you grinned, acknowledging him.” Your smile so bright he couldn’t take it. 

He sighed, and grumbled incoherently before turning to hide his blush and walking away.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You smiled to yourself as he retreaded. 

Natasha bumped your shoulders together. “He stares at you so much, I have no clue if he hates you or wants you. Maybe both!” 

“Nat, don’t be rude, it’s probably because I’m new.”

She smirked, “Sure.” You hadn’t been new for a while.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

He was anxious. It took him forty minutes to place where the tight feeling in his chest was coming from. But it came down to you. It always came down to you as of late.

Steve had an arm around his shoulders, and he was blabbering on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t you talking to some guy. Enthusiastic hand gestures and a dazzling smile on your face as some random guy looked at you with an entranced smile.

He felt bile rising in his throat. 

He wanted to turn around and walk away, but that would have been too obvious. So he walked in with his stomach dropping with anguish.

He was out of it, sipping a drink that Steve had handed him. His tastebuds not even processing the taste of his drink.

“Yo! Joe Goldberg, knock it out with the serial killer stare.” 

He felt a smack on his shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from you.

“What are you talking about?” he grumbled. Smooth. Real smooth.

Even though she was shorter than him, Natasha towered over Bucky. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to check it. It’s getting really weird.”

He felt a hand fist in his heart, tight. He downed the drink and sighed. Think Bucky. Think. “It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a few moments, formulating a response.

“Well then explain, why you keep staring at her like you want to strangle her.”

“I don’t want to— fuck.” He placed the empty glass on the table. “She’s also from Hydra.” He stated.

“Yeah, duh.” Natasha looked at him with contempt.

He needed to fix the fact that she thought he was some sort of obsessed weirdo…. He wasn’t!

“She’s so, normal, happy. And she…” he trailed off. 

Natasha’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked to Steve, who tried to seem like he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

“Bucky, you’re-” Natasha placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You could tell something was wrong when you stepped out of the elevator. He was quiet, not the usual kind, brooding. You acted like you always did, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Bucky, is everything alright?” your voice was soft.

His reply was an irritated huff. You waited for a few moments, letting him have his space.

The night was cold, you had worn thick cotton clothing. He wore a hoodie and pants, they looked comfortable, but the man in them did not.

You hummed, and moved closer toward him, he leaned on a pillar,

“Big mission tomorrow huh?” You shifted tactics. It wasn’t odd for him to have a quiet night, where you just sat in companionable silence. This was different though… he was angry about something. Some insecure part of you told you he was mad at you. But there wasn’t any foundation to that, was there? 

He grunted in response. He was making you anxious. You sighed loudly, deciding on either having a smoke or going to bed. The stilted silence making you anxious, a pressure hard on your chest. You tried to exhale it out, but it wouldn’t budge.

You let him wallow next to you for a few minutes before giving up and turning to face him. You placed a soft hand on his forearm, about to say goodnight. He flinched harshly and your heart twisted. He grimaced, eyes shifting to you before flitting away. 

“Bucky, if you need, I-” your voice had a nervous tinge to it, and you hated it. You were glad when he interrupted you.

“Go to sleep doll.” His voice was sad, his face resigned. 

You furrowed your brows, studying his expression. You had the urge to kiss him on the cheek for good luck but knew that you would break if he flinched away.

“Goodnight Jamie…”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You walked away, turning your head twice to smile at him sadly. He held your gaze as the elevator doors closed, removing you from his field of vision. Taking you away from him. 

“Fuck.” His voice was soft and defeated. He looked at the city skyline. His eyes glossing over. He wanted to get the self-hatred out, to hit the wall, break his knuckles, and kick at the litter on the floor. But he let it sit, let it fester in his chest. A leech that grew bigger as it fed on the churning,  loathsome thoughts overwhelming his brain.

He crumpled with the ease of a paper, falling to the ground,

His limbs splayed as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t take it. Any of it. He always told himself he was strong. He was The Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake! And here he was, crying over a girl. But that wasn’t it. Or it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that he was too soft for all of it. And he was still somewhat human at the end of the day. He still had emotions, and he was starved for comfort. He lacked connection. And he was okay without it, had gone so so long without, he had grown used to the lack. But then you had come into his sanctuary and ruined everything, and he let you. He felt a kinship with you. You had gone through hell and back, had walked the same road as him, and you smiled so big, your eyes twinkled so bright. He couldn’t help but fall into your orbit. Admiring you from afar. 

Maybe it was better when he hated you, it was something he was used to, it was comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings, hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40’s. He was happy then, it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and there was also Captain America there to save him, but then Steve wasn’t there anymore. And any sliver of hope was quickly crushed under gleaming leather Hydra boots. He was going to die someday on a Hydra mission, he had made his peace with that. But Steve did save him, a little too late. He wasn’t Bucky anymore and did not feel like he had any right to the mantle of Captain America’s best friend. And some parts of him did want that still, but all of him yearned to be your Jamie.

And now bitter and traumatized, he held a flower in his calloused hands, and he didn’t know if he was worthy of it. He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to die here, and he couldn’t go in peace because he wanted to see you one more time. He couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t move, He keened in pain like a puppy. 

Pathetic, get up. Voices from Hydra spewed venom, wracking through his psyche. He clenched his jaw and groaned from deep in his throat.

Broken…unworthy…killer…tainted…

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The mission was successful. The team had divided in two, his group had finished earlier.

He felt better, exhausted. It had been a long mission, he was covered in grime and blood. 

It was rare for him to get to the point of exhaustion, but he had dived head first into hand-to-hand combat, not letting up, ignoring black widow’s knowing looks. 

Freshly showered and changed into sweats, Bucky let himself fall face-first into his too-soft bed. Days of restless sleep coupled with today’s exertion weighed his body down, and pulled his mind into sweet sweet oblivion.

He woke with a start, looked at the clock, and sat up. 3:22 A.M. 

He had stood you up. He rushed to the elevator and up to the floor. His thoughts raced with self criticism and hatred. He breathed out a frustrated sigh, you weren’t there.

Of course you weren’t there, he had been over an hour late.

He grumbled to himself all the way down to the common floor. His footsteps skidded to a stop when he found all the lights on and a flurry of activity.

Hawkeye typing furiously into a computer, Black Widow pacing the floor on the floor, her hands fiddling with some tech stuff. Steve was curled over a tablet, his hands clenched around the edge of a countertop.

Bucky stopped. The other team hadn’t come back.

“What’s wrong… where is she?” His chest felt tight.

Steve motioned at him to come near while the other two ignored him.

“Look, Bucky, I know you have some fondness for her, but I need you to calm down. She’s — uh— she’s missing…”

His ears started ringing; he didn’t hear anything after that. He took deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. It was longer, he needed a hair cut, maybe you could cut his hair. Yeah, that sounded nice. 

He stilled. Breathing in deep, “give me the details, I’ll have her back with me within the hour.”

He didn’t recognize his voice. Black Widow and Hawkeye had turned their heads to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Bucky, calm down, she’s alive from what we can tell, we can’t deal with y- we have to focus on finding her right now.”

“I am focused. I will find her.” His voice, it was gruffer, the language wasn’t english. He was reverting back…

Iron Man decided it was the best moment to walk in.

Bucky, The Winter Soldier turned around with intent. He had some inkling of what he must have  looked like, a menace— because as Iron Man was opening his mouth to make some snarky remark, his jaw clenching shut, hands rising in surrender. 

“Где она, где моя кукла?” Where is she, where is my doll?. 

His voice had a deadly cadence, he spoke and meant death.

“She’s okay, Wanda has her.” Black Widow had placed the radio on a table. She walked toward The Soldier slowly.

Wanda, the deadly witch saved from Sokovia. He remembered her. She was strong. Not strong enough. 

He leveled his eyes on her. “скажи мне где, или ты умрешь.” tell me where, or die.

Her eyes grew hard “Calm down soldier, there is no need to threaten anyone.” 

The tension was palpable then, rising… rising-

The Doors opened to you limping… being supported by the witch and the doctor. 

His shoulders slumped. He shifted toward you, but something blocked his path,  he looked down to see Steve’s arm pushing against his chest. The enemies’s stance were on the offence, about to attack, keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend  The Captain to move when-

“Jamie…”  

His gaze flashed toward to you. You pushed away from them, limping— stumbling toward him.

He met no resistance this time as he rushed softly toward you.

Your knees buckled as he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him. 

You sobbed softly- and he broke. His arms strong and soft as he held you close.

He didn’t care about anything, he didn’t care how the scene looked, he didn’t care that they all knew for certain now. He loved you.

He just needed to know you were okay.

He held you as you shook, “I thought, I was back there Jamie, I- thought I wasn’t going to- to see you again. I thought, he would get lonely, and- and- I was going to miss you- they- they- I didn’t care about any of it. I just thought about you….” You sobbed, trying to get words out. “I got out- I killed them all, I couldn’t face it, couldn’t face not- I killed…” For you. 

“kukla…” Doll.“you’re here, you’re ok, let’s get you to the infirmary. You are hurt, and bleeding…”

His voice was so, so soft —dense with remnants of russian. His arms holding you together.

He ignored it all, ignored the dropped jaws and furrowed brows, you came first. He had shown you as his vulnerability, but he first had to be sure his Achilles heel would be okay.

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments, and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading be back with part two soon!!!!

[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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

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

--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.���

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

Please comment, reblog and like to feed the writer! 😜

[xiaq]

Mom, don’t read this.

Once upon a time, 15-year-old X got her motorcycle license. For three years she was extremely responsible with this privilege, until she went to college.

Unlike her peers, who expressed their desire for rebellion in drinking, drugs, and sexually transmitted diseases, X decided her particular brand of youthful nonconformity would involve motorsports. Namely, street racing.

So, at 18, she set off to seek her fortune with a group of nighttime street-racers that, to be fair, met in a rural area that was unlikely to pose a risk to standard motorists. There were watchmen with walkie talkies (actually, I’m going to show my age, here, they mostly had those horrendous yellow phones that doubled as walky talkies, you remember those? the chirps?) who kept the area clear, and warned of any disturbances.

She went a few times. Raced a few times (won a few times!). It was all, frankly, anti-climactic after a steady diet of progressively more absurd Fast and Furious movies.

Until one night, when someone on watch-duty messed up. Or maybe this was a planned sting of some sort. But the cops arrived; multiple cars. And pretty much everyone ran.

Now, I’d never been in trouble in my life. I had a 4.0 and I was an only child with the definition of helicopter parents (excepting the motorcycle license, and no, I still don’t understand that logic. Can my 15-year-old get a motorcycle? Certainly! Can my 18-year-old headed to college next week have a curfew later than 8pm? Perish the thought! Anyway). In the split second I had to decide, my 18-year-old brain, in its infinite wisdom, said: Motorcycle fast. Police car slow.

So. You know. I…motorcycle fast-ed.

Immediately I was like. SELF!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!! You just made this so much worse if they catch you!! But I was already in top gear going well over 100mph, so that train of thought quickly turned into: I must not get caught.

I don’t know if you’re aware of how much faster a 600CC motorcycle is than the average Crown Victoria, but just know that it’s a lot. Especially when the motorcycle rider is less than 100lbs.

So the half-dozen of us who all booked it the same direction, we know we’ve got at least one car following us, but they’re a fair ways behind. The trick is getting far enough ahead that you can quickly get off the road and hide without them seeing your exit. So we all start peeling off to find our hiding places.

Now, between our meeting location and my college, there was an IKEA. I’d bought the bookcase for my dorm there. And I’d unpacked the bookcase into my car in the IKEA parking lot, so I could throw away the giant cardboard box in the enormous blue dumpsters behind the store, rather than deal with it back on campus.

I head for the IKEA. I pull around back. I immediately turn off the bike and toe-walk my way between one of the dumpsters and the store wall, completely out of view of the street and most of the parking lot.

It’s literal minutes later that the cop car finally goes flying by, and evidently they don’t think, “hey, I should stop and check behind the IKEA dumpsters.” Several more minutes pass. No more cops.

At this point, the adrenaline turns into existential dread and shaking so bad that I have to put my kickstand down because my anxiety-ridden perfectionist body is not meant for this kind of stress, even when self-inflicted. I quietly have a panic attack, swear to never disobey the law again (unless it’s for civil protest), and, finally, when I’ve pulled myself together around an hour later, I slowly make my way home.

I never attended another race. Because I am a baby.

But I’m a baby who outran the cops, so.

A visual aid of 18-year-old X and her bike (named Shadowfax) (Shadowfax lived up to her name, that night. All hail.)

(To be clear, I do not endorse this behavior. I could have hurt or killed myself going those speeds or even put some innocent bystander in danger had other people been out and about that night. This was very, very, stupid.)

My new boss: “Everyone come to the team meeting with a surprising story about something you’ve done in the past. Something no one would expect of you!”

Me: Googling the statute of limitation for felonies in Texas

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

A soft breeze came through the curtains in my living room as my eyes scanned the same sentence in the book that was placed in my lap. The sentence that I had reread four times now. Closing the book with a groan, I set it on the other end of the couch and grabbed my phone from the coffee table in front of me. 

No new messages. 

I pocketed my phone while pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Worry etched in my bones as I realized that I hadn’t heard from Steve in over 48 hours. He never went that long without sending some kind of message back to me. It was supposed to be a simple “save the hostages from a ship in the middle of the ocean. It’ll take a day tops.” Steve words. So here I was, two days later wondering what the hell went wrong. 

“Stupid ankle,” I cursed my sprained ankle as it was the reason I couldn’t go on the current mission. 

I had tweaked it a few weeks back and Steve wanted to make sure it was 100% before going back in the field. No matter how hard I tried to convince him I was fine, Steve could tell in the small limp that I was lying. 

I’d been on Team Captain America for almost a year now, Nick recruiting me because of my background. Three years on New York Swat and almost five as a secret agent for the FBI. There was more to my past, which helped mold me into the agent I was today but that was a part of my life that I kept hidden from everyone, including Steve. There was a time in my life where I was at my lowest and darkest; however, as much as that moment in my life caused me many emotional and permanent scars, I don’t think I would be where I was today. 

My finger ran over a small scar on my wrist as I thought back to that time, years ago, and my skin quivered as those memories came back. A dark, cold room with only one bed and the looming fear of when the next time would be when I would see him; would it also be the last time? Would my end be near?

“Christ, I haven’t thought of him in years.” I shuttered, pushing those thoughts away and tried to think of Steve.

In the year that I had been working side by side with him, Steve and I had become incredibly close. Soft touches, hushed conversions just between the two of us, and stares that never went unnoticed. We weren’t official, afraid of it getting in the way of work so we would never make it past first base; hell we never even made it close to first base.

Tired eyes read the clock that hung above the fireplace and a soft sigh left my lips. Calling him would be a waste of time because I knew he never kept his phone on him while on the field, it always stayed on the jet, so I decided to send him a text. 

I should have figured it would take you longer than a day without me.-Y/N. 

I didn’t even have a chance to set my phone down because a few seconds later it was buzzing and Steve’s face appeared on my screen, indicating he was face timing me. 

“Thank god I actually look somewhat decent,” I muttered before hitting the green button, accepting the call. 

Steve’s bright smile warmed my heart as I took in his appearance. Soot covered his forehead and chin, his typically styled hair was a mess, almost falling in his eyes as those tired blue eyes stared at me. 

“Hi,” I breathed. 

“Hey yourself. What time is it there?” Steve questioned. 

I looked at the clock before my gaze rested back on Steve. “Just past 6 in the morning. How’d the mission go?” 

Steve leaned back in the chair of the jet and ran a hand over his face, unbeknownst to him smearing the soot over his face. I suppressed a giggle, not wanting to let him know. 

“You’re cleared to go back on duty. Starting three days ago.” 

“I told you! We could have been finished days ago and you wouldn’t have needed me to water your plants.” I joked.

Steve shot up. “You have been watering them, right?” 

The seriousness in his voice made me roll my eyes. 

“Oh my god, grandpa. Yes, I did water your plants. You know, I forget that you’re 95 years old then you act like that and suddenly it all comes back.” I said with a small smile. 

“You love me,” Steve gave me a smug smile. 

My heart flipped. You have no idea. 

“So when are you going to be back?” I changed the subject. 

“The jet is landing at SHIELD in a few hours. I have to do a few errands but then I’m all yours,” the softness in his smile warmed my heart. 

“The usual?” I asked. 

“I’ve called in the pizza. It should be ready to go by seven.” 

“I’ll bring the beers then,” I smiled 

Every time we complete a mission, Steve and I would meet at his place for pizza and beers. It had been our tradition for the past year, no one else from the team joining. 

Just us. 

Steve’s lips moved as he was about to say something but a certain redhead appeared from behind him, coming into view. 

“NAT!” I yelled, “I miss you!” 

Her smile mirrored my own. 

“You are forbidden from ever taking leave again. This one almost forgot his shield.” Natasha pointed at Steve. 

“I did not!” He defended. 

“Oh Stevie, what would you do without me?” I cooed and noticed his cheeks burned red. 

We stared at each other for a few seconds and if feeling some type of tension between us, Nat shook her head before ruffling Steve’s hair. 

“You’ve got something on your face.” 

Steve looked closer into his phone and I swore, his cheeks were a deep crimson now. 

“You let me talk to you like this the entire time?” Steve questioned, quietly thanking Nat who gave him a towel. 

I shrugged. “I thought it was a cute look.” 

“Maybe if you stopped giving Y/N bedroom eyes, you would have noticed how dirty you were,” Natasha teased. 

“Nat!” I scoffed, feeling some warmth spread to my stomach. 

“What?” She shrugged, “Someone has to call him out."

Shaking my head with a laugh, I gave them a small wave goodbye and told Steve I would see him later. 

I ended the phone call with a sigh and felt excitement spread through my veins as the thought of being alone with Steve kept creeping in the back of my mind. 

“Where the hell are you Rogers,” I grumbled as I checked my phone for the fifth time since arriving at his apartment twenty minutes ago. 

I had called and texted him wondering when he would be home but was met with silence. My fingers slid over his door frame before peaking under the doormat hoping to find a spare key but nothing. 

“You’re damn lucky you’re cute,” I cursed when I checked my phone yet again. 

“Talking to yourself?” 

Spinning on my heels towards the voice, my heart leaped when I saw Steve ascend the staircase, wearing the brown leather jacket that looked so good on him. He had the box of pizza in one hand and was messing with his keys in the other.

“I left my spare key at home. You should really leave another one somewhere.” I noted. 

“I do,” he nodded towards his neighbor across the hall, “Kate has one.” 

“Oh,” I sighed. 

As if the Gods’ wanted to torture me more with the thought of Steve’s neighbor across the hall, she came out from her apartment. Adjusting the laundry basket on her hip, she smiled towards Steve. 

Jealous eyes watched as they chatted, Steve flirting almost effortlessly with her. She giggled at a lame joke he told and I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. My shoulders slouched in anger when Steve invited her over to join us. 

“I don’t want to impose,” she looked between Steve and I. 

Steve quickly shook his head. “No, we’re just friends.” 

My heart dropped to my stomach. “Yeah, friends.” 

“Maybe next time. I’ve got a load in the wash.” 

Steve agreed the next time and I had to turn away as he hugged Kate. 

“You could have been a little nicer to her,” Steve asked as he leaned against his door. 

“I’ve been waiting almost a half hour for you. I’m tired and hungry so sorry I didn’t feel like being friendly,” I snapped but immediately apologized when I saw the hurt flash across his face. 

“It’s been a really long day,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Steve pulled me into his chest and left a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was visiting a friend at the V.A center.” 

My brows rose. “The V.A center?” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Sam. I met him a few days ago. He’s nice, I can set you up with him if you want?” 

“No thanks,” I scrunch my face, “I can find a guy by myself.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Steve joked. 

Scoffing, I gave him a slight push and I nodded towards the door. “My pizza is getting cold.” 

He laughed but his body froze leaning an ear against the door. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“My record player is on.” Steve glanced over to me. 

I leaned my ear against the door but shook my head, “I don’t hear anything.”

“You don’t have super soldier hearing,” Steve teased. “Did you leave it on?”

“I swear I turned it off when I left the other day.” I promised. 

Getting into Captain America mode, Steve shielded me as he slowly unlocked the door, pushing it open. I slipped my knife out of my boot as I followed close behind. The music vibrated off the walls as Steve grabbed his shield from its place on the wall. The knife flipped in my fingers with ease as we reached the living room and saw the slouched figure sitting in the chair. 

Nick Furry.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Steve sighed while leaning against the wall.

“Did you really think I would need one?,” Nick defended while sitting up, “My wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” I admitted. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Nick admitted.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve declared while turning on the light.

Goosebumps pricked my skin when I took in Nick’s appearance. He had a giant gash to the side of his head and blood was dripping down onto Steve’s chair. I wanted to ask what happened but he held up a finger to silence me while he turned off the light. Nick typed a message into his phone before showing us. 

Ears everywhere.

Steve and I shared a look before our eyes glanced around the apartment. Steve tensed up next to me, the anger of being watched rose from within and he cursed under his breath. All of his private moments suddenly weren’t so private anymore. 

“I’m sorry to do this but I had no other place to crash,” Nick showed us a new message on his phone. 

Shield Compromised.

“What the fuck,” I cursed. 

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve continued to play along, in case it was true that his apartment was bugged. 

Nick stood with a groan and limped over to us, clutching his side. “Just my friends.”

Just us. The new message on his phone read. 

Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are, Nick?” 

“Steve,” I warned, “Now isn’t the time for whatever beef you have with him.” 

“That’s up to you,” Nick admitted. 

The floor beneath our feet shook as a scream erupted from my throat when the wall behind Nick exploded in gunfire. Steve grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest as we watched in horror as Nick’s limp body fell to the ground. 

“What the fuck?!” I yelled. 

“Get away from the window!” Steve demanded, pulling Nick’s body in the hallway with us. 

He went to look out the window to see if he was able to see the shooter but Nick grasped his arm stopping him. 

He opened his hand and a hard drive sparkled from the light outside. 

“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” Nick sputtered before passing out. 

“Steve, what the hell is going on?” My voice quivered with fear. 

Before Steve could answer, his front door busted open and Kate walked in, gun armed and aimed. 

“Captain Rogers, I’m Agent 13, Shield Special Service.” Kate said, walking further into Steve’s apartment. 

“Kate? What the hell are you doing here?” I questioned. 

“I’ve been assigned to protect Steve,” She defended. 

“On whose order?” Steve snapped. 

Kate set her gun down before nodding towards Nick. “His.” 

Steve and I shared a look and giving him a slight nod, I turned my attention towards Kate. “You should call it in, Agent.”

“Foxtrot is down and unresponsive. I need EMT’S.” Kate ignored me as she talked into the radio. 

“Do we have a twenty on the shooter?”

Steve peaked around the corner and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. “Tell them we’re in pursuit.” 

Not asking any questions, I let Steve wrap his arm around my waist as we ran through the window, literally, and felt the ground vanish beneath our feet. Glass shattered around us as we landed hard on the floor of the building across the street. 

“Ow, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I groaned, rising to my feet taking off in a chase after the shooter.

Steve was just a few paces ahead of me while the shooter was on the roof above us, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty offices. Steve busted through doors and glass windows, making it easier for me to keep up with him.

“There has to be a staircase to the roof somewhere!” I yelled before I watched through the window in front of us as the shooter jumped down onto the roof of the building in front.

“We’re going through the window, aren't we?” I semi whined. 

“Yup!” 

Suddenly, Steve barreled his way through the window rolling onto his knees and threw his shield at the shooter. The broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I came to a sudden halt when my eyes landed on the man who had caught Captain America’s shield mid throw. 

Long brown locks. 

Blue eyes. 

A metal arm. 

My mouth ran dry while my hands shook, unable to move out of the way as the shield came flying back towards me. Ears rang in silence as the blood drained from my face, memories of that same metal arm slamming into me like a brick wall. The same man that I thought of earlier for the first time in years was standing right in front of me, in the flesh. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve’s voice brought me back as I fell to the ground with his body on mine. With the shield gripped tight in one hand, his other gently cupped my cheek. Steve pulled my face to look into his eyes; however, I couldn’t focus. I ignored the feeling that took over my body when Steve pressed his hips into mine, unknowingly, and licked my dry lips. 

My past life had just barreled into me; a private part of my life that absolutely no one knew about and suddenly, I was very terrified of them finding out. 

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (14)

The start of adult themes at the end xx

Within the safety of my bed, I decided now would be the best time to write Keira and Lucy’s letter. I didn’t want it to be too graphic, but I wanted them to know the full truth. It took a lot of paper, a lot of tears and a glass of wine, but after an hour they were both finished. 

I sat them in the kitchen table, ready to give it to them tomorrow night. 

Dear Keira, 

You know how hard it is from me to talk about things, and there are things I have been keeping from you. This is the easiest way for me to tell you. Please don’t be mad….

Lucy’s letter was the same. A lot of truth, and potentially filling in the gaps of time. It wasn’t going to be easy to sit there and watch them read it, or answer the questions they had, or even deal with the aftermath. 

The following day went slowly, training went slowly, then recover. Everything was just painfully slow. The thought of the letters, burning a hole in my kitchen table. 

“Mils, are we still good for tonight?” Lucy caught up to me in the carpark. 

“Yeah yeah. Come at six yeah? I’ll order us some dinner.” 

The minute I got home the nerves set in. It was only 3pm so I had time to bed rot. Which is exactly what I did. For two hours and 59 minutes. A knock on my door bought be out of the warmth of my bed. 

“Jesus Christ. I’m coming- oh shit. Is it already 6?” Lucy and Keira were standing in front of my apartment. 

“It is. Are you ok?” Keira’s voice held concern, as did her face. 

“Yeah no everything’s fine. I just lost track of time. Come in. I’ll order dinner.” I ushered them inside. 

The silence was awkward, the letters were still on the dining table. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I- um. I have to give you guys something.” I got up and picked up the letters. “Everything that’s happened is in those letters. Things I have only said out loud a couple of times. You can go into the other rooms if you want. I’m just going to sit here.” I pointed to the dining table, gave them their letters and then walked away. 

Keira opened hers first, after reading the first paragraph, she got up and walked to the other room.

Half way through the food was delivered. I took note of Lucy, sitting on the couch. Staring into space. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I just sat back down. 

Alexia Putellas 

Hey, how’d it go?

Amelia Higgins

Unsure 🫤 

Lucy is on the couch. Not talking

Keira is in the spare room. 

Almost directly after I hit send, I heard Keira come out of the bedroom. I watched her walk towards the front door, put her shoes and jacket on and leave. 

“Keira! Wait!” I yelled out, getting up quickly. Lucy grabbed my arm, pulling me into a tight hug. 

“Let her go. It’s a lot. She just needs some time. Can we talk about the letter? If you don’t want to we can do it a different time?” 

I agreed to answer whatever questions she had. We sat and talked about it for a few hours. Lucy cried, I cried, then she was mad. Not at me but at them, at the situation that forced things to change so desperately. I kept checking my phone to see if Keira had messaged or called. She hadn’t. I was worried, Lucy could sense it. 

“I’ll go check on her ok. I’ll text you once I have. Thank you for telling me, and for letting me ask questions. I’m proud of you, now and forever.” 

“Love you luce.” We hugged again, she kissed my forehead and then off she went. 

3 days. It had been three days since Keira and Lucy came to my apartment. 3 days since Keira left. 3 days since Lucy texted me and told me Keira was fine, she just needed some time to comprehend everything. I was starting to lose it. 

“I don’t understand Ale. I wrote the letter, I gave it to her, and she just left? She won’t talk to me or even look at me. What more can I do?” 

“Give her time amor. She will come to you when she’s ready.” 

“Time? Time! How much more fucking time do I need to give her! This is ridiculous.” My voice was very loud, carrying through the hallway and reaching a hiding Keira. 

“Bebé, come here.” Alexia pulled me into her chest, kissing my temple and holding me tight. “How about we go to the beach tonight? Take some dinner and have a picnic?” She moved her hands to cup my face. I nodded as best I could. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7.” She went to walk away but I pulled her back, pouting at her. She gave me a quick kiss and then dragged me along. 

Despite my best efforts, Keira continued to ignore me. Everyone started to notice, Lucy kept sending me sympathetic looks through training. It was pure hell. 

“Kei wait!” She continued to ignore me. “How much longer are you going to ignore me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“You kept this all from me! For four years Amelia! Four fucking years. Then you tell Alexia first. Not me or Leah or even Lucy. You told Alexia! How is that fair?” The lock room went quiet. 

“Keira, come on. That’s not fair.” Lucy was trying hard to defuse the situation. 

“I am so sorry Keira that I didn’t tell you first. I’m sorry for not wanting to tell you the traumatic and disgusting details of what happened. But I did it to protect you. To protect this friendship.” 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She was crying but also getting angrier. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

I looked around, the locker room was slowly thinning out but the captains, Mapi and Ingrid and Lucy remained. 

“Why would I? It doesn’t change anything Keira.” 

“I could’ve helped! You left and I could’ve helped you!” 

“Keira listen to me. You couldn’t help me. Not you, Leah, Lucy or anyone. I needed to figure shit out. How to live with what happened that night. I am sorry that I hurt you, truly I am, but telling you then would’ve only made you worry more or hurt you more.” 

She moved towards me, wrapping her arms around me and mumbling sorrys over and over again. It took a while for both of us to calm down. The locker room was empty by the time we left. Lucy and alexia were standing by their cars, wanting to ensure we were okay. 

Keira and Lucy left after a quick chat. Alexia and I milled around for a bit discussing our plans for tonight. We went our separate ways. 

Once I was home, I threw my dirty laundry in the washing machine, filled up the dishwasher and jumped in the shower. I washed my hair, shaved every single part of me that I could think of and then moisturised. 

Tonight was the night. I was sure of it. I sifted through my new lingerie, deciding on an orange set that looked amazing against my tanned skin. The thought of Alexia undressing me was exciting. 

Once I was completely satisfied with my outfit, I sat on the couch and waited. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long because alexia buzzed on the intercoms. I got up and rushed to let her in, wanting to skip the whole dinner thing and go straight to dessert. 

“Dios mío, you look amazing.” She looked me up and down, taking a particularly long look at my legs that were barely hidden from my skirt. 

“Mm, so do you, let me get my keys?” I watched as she licked her lips and thrusted flowers into my hands. 

“For you!” She followed me inside as I got a vase for the flowers, I could fell her gaze on me as I moved around. 

“Okay, we need to leave now or we won’t leave at all.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice. As I looked up I noticed her eyes were completely black, she wanted this as much as I did. 

“Or we could just raincheck the beach? Stay in for the night?” I winked at her, before walking towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes Alexia. Please. I will beg you.” Something switch in her. 

“Then beg.” Cockiness, eagerness, excitement. 

“Please fuck me. Right here, right now.” 

Her lips collided with mine. Hard. It was messy, a mix of teeth and tongue, fighting for dominance. I moaned as my back hit the bench, her hands coming to rest on my ass. 

Her lips made their way down my neck, sucking marks that I’d have to deal with later. 

“Up” she said as she grabbed my thighs. She helped me get onto the counter. She took a step back, staring at me. I felt small under her intense gaze. 

“We can stop if you want?” I didn’t want to stop, but I wanted her to be aware that we could if she wanted to. 

“I don’t want to. I just want to see how hot you are before I destroy you.” 

————————————————————————

I moaned as her hands slowly made their way up my thighs. Her mouth attacking my neck and collarbone, slowly making their way down to the collar of my shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” She stopped, looking at me. 

“Please.” It came out more as a moan than anything. 

“Holy fuck. You’re so perfect.” 

[sandwitchstories]

Dango and Dragons

Hey hey everyone! Its been far too long since I shared some new Daddy Duty content regularly, so here you go! I give to you all this silly little story about Dad!Sukuna and Mouse

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 1800+

Summary: To distract the toddler climbing the walls in her father's absence, Reader and Mouse decide to have a picnic. They are pleasantly surprised by the duo's return and a gift Sukuna bought for Mouse (and Uraume).

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

Quick note about a couple of terms used in story: Shiroshi = what kites were called durin the Heian era. It translates into basically 'paper bird' Takoge = kite flying festival (along with kite flying they also sometimes included a night parade and kite battles!)

CW: Reader is not described but referred to as Mama, reader is pregnant, there are several suggestive comments made between reader and Sukuna (they are lowkey obsessed with each other- but it's okay- they are married, your honor), family fluff

You smiled as you carried the basket full of food and snacks with one hand as Mouse held onto the other. She was happily singing a song she made up as she went, pausing occasionally to look at something or ask you a question.

Sukuna and Uraume had been gone for several days and Mouse was climbing the walls. The weather was nice and you had no obligations to attend to. It seemed like the perfect day to go for a picnic. 

The two of you had spent the morning making and packing up a basket full of your favorite things, including extras of everything as Mouse had insisted, stating that the other two members of your family could be back at any time and they would probably be hungry too. You smiled and happily agreed. Whatever was not eaten now could be eaten later. Waste not want not!

The two of you had just finished laying out the blanket and setting out little plates of the food when Mouse shot upright and looked towards the horizon. She rushed to the basket and grabbed out a cookie for each hand. You were about to ask her what she was doing when two figures came into view. One a great deal larger and broader than the other. 

Her abilities to sense her father were even more attuned than yours were. You smiled as she got excited. She waited, bouncing back and forth between her feet. She knew the rules. Until Papa said it was okay to come to him, she had to stay by Mama. It was for her safety and she knew that, but she could only muster so much patience at 2 years old. 

“Mama! I think he walking too slow,” Mouse almost growled at you as she squatted down cookies still safely clutched in her tiny hands. “I gonna fix it.”

“And how are you going to fix that?” You asked, amused and curious just what she thought she could do to ‘fix’ the speed at which her father was walking.

“Like this,” she said, standing up. She carefully set the cookies down on the blanket and cupped her hands around her mouth. She proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs, “Faster, Papa! Please and thank you!”

You choked down a laugh, covering your mouth with your hands. “You think he heard you?”

“Don’t seem it,” she pressed her lips together in a frown and called again. “I said FASTER PLEASE AND THANK YOU, PAPA!”

“Why should I?” Sukuna’s voice called back, you could hear the amusement in his tone from where you sat and it made you smile. 

“You taking too long!” She called back.

“Then you come to me, brat!”

She snatched up the cookies and took off running at the speed of light towards him. “I coming, Papa! I bringing cookies, Papa!”

You watched as he handed something to Uraume as Mouse approached and he grabbed her up into his arms. You were impressed with Mouse’s hold on the cookies as her father tossed her laughing form up into the air and caught her. 

You couldn’t hear the exchange from the distance they were still at, but just the sight of the three of them walking towards you was enough to make your heart swell with love. Mouse, Sukuna and Uraume- your beautiful little family. Your everything.

You rose to your feet to greet them as they drew near. Sukuna set Mouse down as Uraume moved to set the things they were holding by the picnic basket. Mouse was happily telling Uraume about all the goodies you had brought with you. Sukuna’s eyes, however, were on you and you alone.

He pulled you closer with an arm around your waist and gave you several soft kisses. “Miss me, precious one?”

“A little,” you teased, cupping his face and kissing him again.

“I missed you a lot, Papa!” Mouse said, plopping down on the blanket and taking a bite of a cookie. She looked at Uraume and said, “I missed you too, Urau-rau. You cook better than Mama.”

You sputtered even though you knew it was the truth. “What was that?”

She turned towards you and gave you a giant smile before saying in a comforting tone, “It okay, Mama. You tried.”

While a part of you wanted to wipe the smirk off Uraume's face, a larger part of you was looking forward to a little alone time with a certain someone’s Papa. You and Mouse both being on Uraume’s good side would make things a lot easier to negotiate. 

“Uraume is a very good cook,” you agreed, sitting down as Sukuna did as well. 

“You just want me to watch her tonight,” Uraume said in a soft tone, shooting you a side glare.

“I do! You know me so well!” You agreed, giving them a wink. “But you are a good cook.”

Mouse started emptying out the basket, personally hand delivering the treats to each person. She grabbed a skewer of dango in either hand before moving to plop down in Sukuna’s lap, leaning her back against him. She grinned up at him and held up one of the skewers. “Want some, Papa?”

“I have my own, brat. Those are yours,” he said, ruffling her hair with a free hand while he smirked down at her. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but you could see by the look in his eyes and the way his fingers combed through her hair just how much he had missed her. How much he loved her. It made you tear up a little. Damn these pregnancy hormones. 

“What brought home, Papa?” Mouse asked, using the dango in one hand to gesture towards the parcels Uraume had set down.

“Why? You think there is something there for you?” He asked, eating one of the cookies Mouse had given him.

“Yes,” she said with a grin. 

“What makes you think you deserve it? Hmm?” he asked, poking her chubby little belly with his finger, making her giggle up at him.

“I been good. Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“Have you though?”

“She has been,” you replied. “She has been a big helper the whole time you were gone.”

“I take good care of Mama, Papa!” she chirped up at him as she finished her snacks in record time. 

“Alright… Uraume, give it to me,” Sukuna instructed, eating another cookie.

Uraume set aside their snacks and grabbed the securely wrapped package and brought it to Sukuna. He used two hands to help Mouse unwrap it. Together they reveal a beautiful, brightly colored shiroshi. The diamond shaped bamboo frame held together a stunning fabric that depicted the image of a red dragon with bright blues and yellows behind it. 

“What this Papa?” Mouse asked.

“It is called a shiroshi. It flies in the sky in the wind,” he explained.

“It windy! We do it now, please and thank you, Papa!” she looked up at him excitedly, her chubby hands laying lovingly on the material.

“I don’t know…” he drawled out.

“Don’t be a tease. Go on and show us your skills, King of Curses,” you teased with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll show you my skills alright,” he said in a low tone, smirking right back at you.

“With the shiroshi,” you rolled your eyes even as your heart fluttered at his blatant flirting. Still got it!

“Yeah, Papa! Show meeeee!” Mouse said, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“Uraume, would you do the honors?” Sukuna asked, cocking his head.

Uraume’s eyes got big and they hurried to swallow the food they were chewing. “You want… me to fly it, Master Sukuna?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it. I mean, you are the one who picked it out…” Sukuna shrugged.

“Urau-rau, you pick it for me?” Mouse’s face lit up.

“I merely pointed them out,” Uraume answered. “But if it would please you, Master Sukuna, I will be happy to.”

Sukuna moved the shiroshi so that Mouse scrambled off of his lap. She bolted to Uraume’s side. She hugged their arm, looking up at them with a big, toothy grin. “Thank you, Urau-rau!! Lets go fly it now, please and thank you!”

Uraume sighed and rolled their eyes, feigning annoyance even as their eyes softened just the slightest bit and the smallest smile ghosted on their lips. They moved to stand, taking the large object from Sukuna’s outstretched hand and walking a bit away with Mouse in tow, skippin beside them. 

Sukuna took advantage and moved to sit beside you. He wrapped two arms around you and pulled you close, one large hand holding your shoulder, the other moved lower to splay and rest over your slightly distended belly. The thumbs on both hands immediately began mindlessly tracing a pattern. He kissed the top of your head as you laid it on his broad shoulder. 

You reached over to take one of his other hands, locking your fingers together and bringing them to your lips. You placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles before lowering your hands to rest idly, fingers still locked. 

You smiled as you watched Uraume battling the wind and Mouse before getting the shiroshi flying high in the sky. They held onto the rope, concerned the wind would be too strong for Mouse’s hold. It was an adorable sight to see, and even from here you could see the enjoyment on Uraume’s face.

“During our travels, when Uraume was a child, we came upon a Takoage festival. They have never really asked for anything, you know this about them, but I could see the enjoyment in their eyes as they watched the shiroshi soar above our heads. We stayed for the duration of the festival. The next day I bought them one, and they spent hours… and hours flying it. I threatened to dismantle the damn thing if they didn’t set it down to fulfil their duties and train,” Sukuna recounted to you, a small smile on his face as he watched them.

“Really? Huh,” you said, taking it in and imagining it with a smile on your face. “Admit it… you just wanted to take a turn flying it, huh?”

“If I had wanted to take a turn, I would have take a damn turn,” he grumbled, causing you to chuckle.

“Mama! Papa! Look! We gots a real dragon! It flying! It going WOOOOOOSH!” Mouse called, spreading her arms wide and running in circles around Uraume, imitating a dragon in flight.

“Be careful or it might get you!” you teasingly called out.

“Silly Mama! It not a real dragon, it no eat me!” Mouse’s laughter carried as easily on the wind as the shiroshi flying high above her head.

Sukuna relaxed against the tree behind him, fully at peace. How could he not be? The weather was nice. The snacks were delicious. His beloved was in his arms and his daughter was happily harassing his disciple just a few yards away. Soon there would be another welp causing mayhem alongside their sister. He couldn’t wait.

[ellesreids]

dom!elle with a sub!fem reader? dinner date and rough sex..

date night — e. greenaway

a/n: probably not the craziest, roughest sex you'll ever read because I'm too soft for that lmao but I tried my best incorporating it. I hope you like it though anon and thank you for being my first request!! <3 cw: fingering, oral sex, use of a strap-on, not really proofread.

──── ୨୧ ────

It's a flurry of laughs and stolen kisses as the two of you make your way inside your shared apartment. Your hands wrapped snugly around her waist and pressing kisses into the dip of her shoulder as she struggles with the front door's lock. And once it's opened, you're all over her, hands wrapped around her neck as you press messy kisses to her lips and cheek.

The two of you had just returned from a date, a beautiful night that had you feeling like the only girl in the world. Elle always had that ability to make you feel special with the amount of attention and consideration she invested in you. She would sometimes be gone for long periods of time, but once she returned, she always made it up to you by tenfold. Like tonight, as she decided to spoil you with a date to some fancy restaurant after working a case for almost two weeks.

You're half frantic, hands reaching everywhere they could as you peppered her with sweet kisses. You push her hair from her shoulder to make room for your lips, moving to the special spot behind her ear, trying to coax her and leave her pliant.

"Slow down, we have all night, y'know," Elle laughs softly, hand on the back of your neck as she gently pulls you away from her so that she can look you in the eye. You smile at her timidly, already feeling shy under her intense gaze. Your eyes drift down her body, admiring the way her dress clung to her body, and also as a way to avoid eye contact. "Hey, look at me," she says softly, and at once, your eyes are on her again. "Tell me what you want."

You almost want to whine, already knowing the game she wants to play with you, but you refrain from it. "You know what I want," you say, hands wrapping around her neck to pull her impossibly closer, the sickeningly sweet scent of her perfume leaving you breathless. Her arms wrap around your waist, rubbing your lower back softly. "I don't think I know," she smiles, "need you to tell me."

"What do you want, hm?" she asks again, voice soft and alluring like a siren trying to lead you to your demise. "I want you," you say softly, and a bashful smile stretches across her face at your answer, planting a kiss to your waiting lips before quickly pulling away.

"Can you go to the bedroom? I'll be right there," she smiles, making you melt on the spot with a warmth already settling in your lower belly. You nod, making your way to the bedroom with nerves of anticipation thrumming all throughout your body. While she's away, you make quick work of your clothes, hastily tugging at your dress' zipper and stripping it from your body. You take a moment to admire the matching set of underwear you had bought specially for tonight's occasion, hands smoothing over the lace detailing on your bra.

Before you could do much else, the bedroom door opens with a creak, and Elle stands in the threshold, eyes unashamedly tracing your scantily clad body and the lacy underwear that clung to your body. She makes her way inside, placing you in her embrace as her hands rub down your arms, and her eyes take time admiring every inch of exposed skin. "You look so beautiful baby, you buy this for me?" she asks, fingers smoothing over the lace detailing that cupped your breasts. You nod, preening under her loving gaze as she takes in every detail.

"Do you like it?" you ask softly, and she nods almost instantly, giving you a toothy smile. "I love it, t'so pretty," she smiles, taking a few more moments to admire you before she's nodding towards the bed. You reluctantly remove yourself from her embrace and make your way onto the bed and shuffle across the soft sheets until you're facing her again. You watch the way she pushes all her hair to fall over one shoulder, hands then moving to unzip her dress and letting it fall to the ground in a dramatic display before stepping out of the material.

Her hands move behind her back once more, and her bra snaps open with a soft thwap before she shimmies the material from her shoulders, and it joins the dress on the ground. The bed dips as she makes her way to you, eyes locked on you in a way that has your cunt clenching around nothing. She takes her place between your already spread legs, smiling down at you before kissing you. It leaves you breathless, a boneless mess in her grasp as you moan into her mouth at the feeling of her hand grabbing onto one of your clothed breasts and gently squeezing.

She doesn't stay stagnant for long though, and soon her kisses are traveling down the expanse of your body; over your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts and down the softness of your stomach until she's finally laid between your legs with her head directly infront of your clothed cunt. She takes your legs by the back of your knees, spreading them further to get a better view, and she hums satisfyingly at the visible wet spot already staining the fabric. "Look at that," she says breathily, "You got that excited over a few kisses?"

"Elle," you say softly, voice half whining and half begging as she places soft kisses to your inner thighs. "I'll give you what you want, don't worry," she says before she's swiftly moving to remove your panties, throwing them somewhere into the room.

After that, she dives in without much of a warning, licking a broad stripe up the seam of your pussy from your hole to your clit. It makes you shiver in her grasp, but it only makes her grip on your thighs tighten. It feels like she's trying to consume you, tongue lapping at the wetness of your pussy before she's moving up to suck your clit into her mouth. You're already a mess, one hand beneath the fabric of your bra as you squeeze at your your breast while the other pushes the hair out of her face.

She pulls away after a while, hand letting go of one of your thighs before sucking two fingers into her mouth. Those same fingers make their way to your pussy, circling your entrance before she pushes in gently. She waits for you to adjust, until you start moaning softly and squirming around until she starts thrusting them in and out of you.

Her pace is brutal, borderline unforgiving as she hits that special spot inside you almost every time. Her mouth return to your pussy, gently sucking and licking at your throbbing clit as her eyes stay trained on you and your every reaction. She watches the way your breasts heave with every quick breath, the way your eyes, dilated and droopy with drunken pleasure watch her before it all becomes too much and your head tips back against the pillow with a guttural moan.

"Uh uh," she tuts, pulling away from your clit at once and slowing the pace of her fingers down dramatically. "Look at me, baby, or I'll stop." And you know she's not bluffing, so you pull your head upright again and shift your upper body's weight onto your arms. She smiles at the already fucked out look on your face, and moves to give you another chaste kiss before her fingers continue their ministrations.

Its not even long before she has you right on the edge, that delicious feeling settling in your bones as you wait for the pleasure to wash over you, but before you could get there, Elle stops abruptly, pulling her fingers from your soaked cunt and depriving you of that much needed and very anticipated orgasm.

You watch as she puts those same fingers into her mouth, licking them clean before she leans down and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on her tongue, and it does nothing to bliss the fire burning in your gut. "Elle," you whisper between kisses, and she hums against your mouth in reply. "Please," you beg, hoping she doesn't explicitly make you say exactly what you're begging for. Thankfully, she has mercy on you, and only replies in another understanding hum before she's pulling away.

Silently, she moves off the bed and makes her way to your bedside drawers, rummaging through them until she finds what she's looking for. The sight of the box itself already has you whimpering, knowing what was in store for you and quietly watching as she takes out the strap-on and starts fastening and tightening every necessary straps until everything is secured. A bottle of lube is pulled from the drawer too before she makes her way back onto the bed and between your legs.

"Hands and knees, baby," she whispers softly, as she lubricates the silicone dick before haphazardly disposing of the bottle. She admires the site infront of her; your back arched beautifully and your pussy on full display for her, wet and ready. She bends down, pressing kisses down your back and a few more to the fat of your ass cheeks before she's moving upright and pressing the tip to your entrance. Slowly she eases in, watching intently as the silicone disappeares inside your pussy till she was flush with your ass.

"You alright?" she asks, hands gently rubbing over your hips and ass in a soothing manner. You reply with a soft yes, and when you tell her that she can start moving, she wastes no time.

She gradually builds the pace, starting out with soft half-strokes to help you get used to the feeling, and deepening each stroke with every breathy moan and whimper you let out. Soon enough she's practically wrecking your pussy, each thrust deep and fast, leaving you clawing at the sheets and drooling into the pillow. You're delirious with plessure, a loud moan escaping you at a particularly deep thrust. "D'you like that?" Elle's voice rings through the room, and you nod, unable to do anything else but moan unabashedly. She grabs handfuls of your ass and pulls your cheeks apart to get a good view of your pussy practically swallowing the silicone.

"Elle," you whine pitifully, and her ears perk up to try and hear you over the sounds of your sopping cunt. "Wanna see you," you say, looking over your shoulder just in time to see her smile at you sweetly. "Y'wanna see me?" she asks, smile widening when you nod eagerly. "Okay, baby. I'll let you see me," she says softly, pulling out before she flips you onto your back. One of your legs are placed on her shoulder, while the other goes to her side. She repositions herself before she's pushing in again and setting another brutal pace.

She watches the way your tits bounce from the confines of your bra with every deep thrust, the way your legs shake with pleasure and the way your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head, teeth biting down into your lip in a futile attempt to muffle your moans. She leans down, practically bending you along with her as her thrusts now turn into a deep grinding, pelvis rubbing against your clit with a burning friction that has you closer to cumming than you'd like to be, not willing to end everything so soon.

"How does that feel, huh? Feels good?" she asks, voice strained with effort as she works to get you over that edge, if only she knew how close to teetering over that edge you already were. "Mhm," you hum in reply, too fucked out to give an actual response but still wanting to let her know how good you were feeling. "Yeah?" she asks, and you nod without even thinking about it. "You can't even talk? Am I fucking you that good?"

Like before, all she gets in response all she gets is a hum of confirmation and another punched out moan. Its enough for her though, and she gives you a few deep, sloppy kisses that you can barely return before moving upright again. She doubles her efforts, hand moving to your pussy to rub your clit and keep that stimulation going.

It happens so fast, the pressure in your lower belly building and building until it snaps and the electric buzz of an orgasm travels throughout every part of your body. Your back arches off the bed and your legs shake violently as you cum with a drawn out whine. She guides you through it, soft words of reassurance leaving her lips as her hands softly rubs your skin. "There you go," she breaths, "you did so good, baby. Look so pretty too."

Elle watches as you come down, bordering on overstimulation as she continues to gently rub at your clit as her thrusts come to a halt. When you grab at her wrist with a soft whine she knows you're done, and she gently pulls out before deftly undoing the strap-on from her waist.

She goes to lay next to you, pulling you into her with a slow and passionate kiss that has you humming in satisfaction. Everything around you melts away and all you can focus on is Elle and the way her soft lips move against your own. In a dreamy and truly fucked out state, all you can do is cling to her as she kisses you silly.

Elle would sometimes be gone for long periods of time, but she always made it up to you once she returned.

[luvashli]

Synopsis -> you are pulled into a mysterious mansion where seven men are bound by a dark pact. As you navigates their secrets, desires, and emotional turmoil, you must decide whether to break free or embrace your dangerous connection with them all, uncovering love and sacrifice along the way.

14 -> A Dangerous Connection

That night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something crucial. The mansion, with all its secrets and cryptic warnings, felt like a labyrinth designed to keep you trapped. The pieces were there—scattered and incomplete—but they refused to fit together, no matter how hard you tried.

You found yourself in the library again, drawn back to the book you’d hidden from Ni-ki. This time, you were determined to find answers, no matter how dark or twisted they might be.

The pages were brittle beneath your fingers, the text faint but legible. One passage stopped you in your tracks:

“The bond is forged through sacrifice, its strength drawn from the hearts of the willing. But beware the hunger of the eternal, for it seeks more than it is given.”

Your stomach twisted. The words felt like they had been written with the boys in mind, their meaning too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?”

The voice startled you, and you looked up sharply to see Sunoo standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Research,” you said, snapping the book shut and holding it against your chest.

Sunoo stepped into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was approaching a wild animal.

“You shouldn’t be reading that,” he said, his voice low.

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t change anything,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “You can’t fight the pact, Y/n. And the more you try, the more it’s going to hurt all of us.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to back down. “Then tell me what it is,” you demanded. “If you don’t want me looking for answers, give me the truth.”

Sunoo sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is with you,” you snapped. “You all act like you care about me, but you keep me in the dark. How am I supposed to trust any of you?”

His expression softened, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes—regret, maybe, or guilt. “We’re trying to protect you,” he said quietly. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Why do you care?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. “If this pact is so important, why do you care about what I think or feel?”

Sunoo looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned forward.

“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “We can’t pretend you don’t matter. Not anymore.”

His words caught you off guard, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t name. Before you could respond, Sunoo leaned in, his face inches from yours.

For a moment, you thought he might kiss you—and part of you wanted him to. But just as his lips brushed yours, he pulled back, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“I won’t do it,” he said softly. “Not if it hurts you. Not if it makes you doubt us more than you already do.”

You stared at him, your heart racing. His restraint, his quiet strength, shook you more than anything else had.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered.

“Because we’ve made enough mistakes,” he said. “We can’t undo what’s been done, but we can try to be better. For you.”

For the first time, you felt a flicker of something other than anger or distrust. But it wasn’t enough to erase the betrayal you still felt.

“I need time,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I can’t just forget everything that’s happened.”

Sunoo nodded, his gaze steady. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

As you left the library, your mind swirled with questions and emotions you weren’t ready to face. But one thing was clear: the boys cared about you—perhaps more than they should. And that terrified you more than anything.

The mansion seemed heavier with every passing day. The silence, once comforting, now pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. You avoided the boys as much as possible, and though they tried to approach you, you always found a way to slip away.

But that night, as the halls grew darker and the air colder, you felt the pull of the forbidden wing. The book was clutched tightly in your hands, its weight grounding you as you crept through the shadowed corridors.

The door at the end of the hallway groaned as you pushed it open, revealing a massive chamber. The walls were covered in intricate carvings, their meanings lost to you but their presence unsettling. At the center of the room stood a stone altar, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light.

“What are you doing here?”

You spun around to see Jungwon standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“I’m looking for answers,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your chest. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark.”

“This isn’t a place you should be,” he said, stepping into the room. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous for me, or for you?” you shot back, clutching the book tighter.

Jungwon’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he hesitated. “Both,” he admitted.

“Then tell me the truth,” you demanded, stepping closer. “What is this pact? What does it want from me?”

For a moment, Jungwon’s expression softened, as if he might finally give you the answers you sought. But then he shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” you snapped. “I’m done being kept in the dark, Jungwon. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. His touch was firm but not forceful, his voice trembling slightly as he said, “Y/n, please… just stop.”

You stared at him, searching his face for answers he wouldn’t give. Finally, you wrenched your arm free and walked past him, leaving the chamber and its secrets behind—for now.

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@d-dilemma

[insomnia-productions]

i don't know if anyone remembers that teen apocalypse show Daybreak that Netflix cancelled after one season but im rewatching it while i wait for Yellowjackets s2 and i just transcribed turbo's entire on-screen-text speech from episode 6 and im going a little insane. i love him sm

anyway here it is:

You all. Every one of you. My legion, my friends, my tribe. I see you. I know your names and I know your heart. I know who puts in an honest day’s work. And I know who slacks the system. You know it, too. You know who you are. I SEE YOU. And it’s to you, I say, I’m lowkey-not-lowkey ballistic. You trust me to give you everything, yeah. Food, shelter, warmth, weapons, leadership, safety. Even a beer every now and then. And in return, you know what I ask? It’s pretty fucking simple. I ask that you don’t murder-kill me. That’s how this shit is supposed to work. Fair exchange, right? I mean, after everything I’ve built here? Look around you. This is our school. Our public school. And a public school takes in anybody. I take in anybody. There’s always a seat for you on my bleachers. Doesn’t matter your former tribe. Doesn’t matter who you used to be. You’re safe here. I’m the eye in Hurricane Nuclear Fallout. I’m the SPF-120 protecting you from the heat-blasting sun. And once it sets, I’m the only warm blanket you got on these bitter-ass nights. I give you all this, and I ask the simplest thing in return. Loyalty. Loyalty and trust. Loyalty and trust and like an inch of respect maybe. But mostly, loyalty. And would it seriously hurt you to pick up the trash every once in a while. This place is a mess. And it’s starting to smell like foot cheese. Again: I SEE YOU. A quarterback can’t make epic plays without knowing where every single lineman and running back and receiver is. Same here, with you. My job is impossible unless every lieutenant and soldier and kitchen scut right on down the line is is doing their fucking job. Vibe me? Am I getting through? Well, guess what? Y’all betrayed me. Why? I didn’t build all this so you fucks could just take it from me. No way. You don’t own this. The second you do is the second you make it toxic. I’m reminded of the immortal words of that guy who said whoha in Any Given Sunday. [HE GOES ON TO QUOTE THE ENTIRE SPEECH. IT’S LIKE… REALLY LONG.] Yeah. That’s right. I memorized that whole speech. Took me a whole year. I also memorized the speeches from Hoosiers and Remember The Titans and Rocky IV and Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks and She’s The Man and High School Musical and Friday Night Lights, both the movie and the television series. So I know about inspiration. I’ll tell you this story. It’s something I didn’t understand at first but now I’m coming around to it. It’s a story my dad told me. There was this guy who used to make vases. I don’t know what they call that? A vaser? Maybe? No. That’s wrong. A sculptor. I guess that could be right. A potter? Maybe a potter? I wonder if that’s why the kid is named Harry Potter? Because he made magic. Like made it. What was I saying? Potter? The vase! Right. Those vases were beautiful things. And check this out… the guy would wrap and unfired vase in horse hair — then put it in his kiln. The horse hair would burn off and leave these black, charred scars. But to get the horse hair, the guy would have to pluck it straight from a stallion's tail. How baller is that? And every time he did, that stallion would buck. The vase-maker, vaser, potter — he was pretty good at dodging the kick, cause he knew it was coming. But more than once, the horse would get him. Knocking him in the face and shoulder. Nasty shit. He still had rolling shards of broken bone you could feel, where the horse shattered his clavicle. But Christ in a halo, it was worth the pain. Those vases, man. I know you think I’m a dumb jock, but I can appreciate a thing like that. Well, I look out at you all, and I think that’s what I have here. You’re the bucking horse. I’m the sculptor. And the beautiful vase is all this, Glendale High. Look what we have. But you fuckers broke the vase. And I’m not sure we can ever glue this thing back together. But I’m gonna try. I’m really gonna fucking try. 

[tapakah0]

[vaguely-concerned]

I've written 5000 words of lucanis and rye fic the last two days and the only reason the wip isn't even longer yet is probably that my brain turns into useless ash and blows away for the day once it's channeled the lightning bolt of writing energy for a couple of hours and needs to sleep before it can stand up to another onslaught.

[machiavelli]

what’s up with me and plane crashing dreams. perhaps my life long obsession with the show air crash investigations is hitting or smth

[lyriumsings]

art book be like: draw with ✨intention✨ be mindful of your lines~

my brains translation as it hits me over the head with a rolled up newspaper: take your fucking time and actually think about what your doing!!

me: oOOHH!! :o

[zevrans-remade]

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