#avengers fan fic

[verybadatwriting]

Dog Tags

Summary: Some bullies take teasing a step too far.

Warnings: Stereotypical bullies, anger issues, bottling up emotions, violence

Notes: Papa/Pa= Steve, Dad/Dada = Bucky. No pairing. Reader is Steve and Bucky's adopted daughter.

Fem!reader

Word count: 1,364

Age 1-5

When you were born, 1939, Hydra got you. You underwent four years of experiments that gave you the gift of prophecy and enhanced physical strength. Random visions of the future came to you once or twice a week, but they were heralded by you losing consciousness.

Four years later, a group led by Captain America took down the lab you were being kept in. You formed a close father-daughter bond with the men who rescued you, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steve Rogers. For two years you stayed with them as they continued fighting against the Axis Powers and formed the Howling Commandos.

It was then discovered that you had a severe heart defect. If left untreated, it would most likely kill you. On December 26th 1944, they placed you in a specially made freezing chamber in the hopes that future medical advances would make your condition treatable. While you were frozen, you still received visions.

Age 6

Decades later, you were unfrozen. You were technically in your 60’s, but by all accounts still a six-year-old. You lived with your adoptive Papa Steve, who ensured you got the medical treatments needed, and had a relatively normal childhood despite the out of the ordinary first six years. He told you that your Dad Bucky was gone, which you didn’t fully believe.

“But I saw him!” You protested.

“I know,” Steve replied, “We used to see him every day. Now we won’t get to see him again.”

“No!” You shouted, “I saw him doing things he hasn’t done yet!”

“Y/n/n,” Steve shushed, “This is a hard thing for both of us. Please stop trying to give me hope. He’s gone. That’s the end of it.”

When both of you had calmed down, Steve pulled out a little box.

“Kid?” He got your attention, “Do you remember what these are?”

“Yeah. They’re his dog tags.”

“Do you want to keep them?” He asked. You nodded in reply, and put them on. From that day forward you rarely took off your Dad’s tags.

Age 8

At school, you kept your head down, four formative years in a strict evil lab will make you very keen to follow the rules and not be noticed. Your increased strength made you afraid you would hurt someone, so you never fought back. Because of this, bullies targeted you. They were a few years older, and notorious all throughout your middle school.

One day they went a step too far by yanking your Dad’s dog tags right off your neck. The main guy, Kennith Reid, tossed them to Tyler, who tossed them to another boy. They went around and around the circle.

“Give them back.” You said evenly.

“What’re you gonna do?” Tyler asked, “Cry to your Papa? Who did you say he was, Captain America? I don’t believe it. I think you lied.”

“No.”

“Tyler,” Kennith said, catching the dog tags, “What do you think she’d do if we started breaking up this little chain?” 

“Don’t.”

“Oh Kennie, is she getting mad?”

“I think so T.” Kennith said, and he broke off a few inches of the chain. You stood up, and started to take off your hoodie.

“Why are you taking off your stupid frog hoodie?” Tyler jeered.

“I don’t want to get your blood on it.” Removing your hoodie revealed how much that Hydra had influenced you. Muscles far beyond what any teenager had, much less an eight-year-old like yourself. 

Wordlessly, you swung at him. It connected, hard. His nose splintered and he fell to the ground. Kennith’s pals had a split second of panic, as the blood drained from their faces in fear, but you didn’t stop. You went after every single one of them, being very careful not to injure them too badly. Kennith’s nose was the worst one.

He was the ringleader, so he deserved it. 

A few moments later, they were all sufficiently beaten up, you took back your Dad’s dog tags, and knelt down next to them.

“You’re never going to pick on anyone again, understood?”

“Ye - yeah,” He hastily said, “Got it.  Mhm. 100%. We won’t bully you.”

“No. You won’t bully anyone. Not me. Not Jess, not Caroline, not Xavier. None of us. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

Obviously, parents were called. Your Papa was probably off on some mission, although he said he’d be back today. It didn’t matter. If he wasn’t available Auntie Nat would step in. You sat on one side of the table, waiting for someone to join you. Your new principal, who had recently replaced a beloved one, sat across from you. Her name was Ms. Katz.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” Your principal said after waiting for ten minutes, “Do you know your mother’s phone number?”

“With all due respect, Ms. Katz” You said, “She’s dead.”

“Oh,” She inhaled, “I see.”

“My aunt should be joining us soon.” Right on cue Ms. Romanoff waltzed in.

“Thank you for waiting,” She began, “I came as soon as I could.”

“No problem, thank you for joining us.” Ms. Katz said, “You are here because Y/n has exhibited some concerning behavior. She repeatedly hit her peers, resulting in one receiving a broken nose.”

“That doesn’t sound like her. Have you asked her why she did it?” Nat asked.

“This school has a Zero-Tolerance Policy for physical violence or bullying of any sort, no matter the reason.” Ms. Katz replied, “So we didn’t need to ask.”

“That sounds like a recipe for more violence.” Nat said.

“We’re not here to debate policy.” Ms. Katz said, “She will be receiving a two week suspension, and I’m afraid this will go on her permanent record.” 

“Oh no.” Was your deadpan response. “Can’t let anyone know I retaliated when provoked. Woe is me.” 

Nat flashed you a proud smile, and continued.

“Y/n, I haven’t yet gotten to hear your perspective. I think there’s a little more to it than simply whacking a kid.”

“I don’t believe that’s a good use of our time togeth-” Ms. Katz began, and was shortly cut off.

“No,” Nat said, “Let her talk. I need to know what happened before I decide what to do.”

“I just want you to know we’re not reconsidering the suspension.”

“Fine by me. Continue, Y/n.”

“They snagged Dad’s dog tags off my neck. I told them to give them back. They didn’t. This was the final straw. For the past two years I’ve endured their teasing, and so have countless others. I didn’t beat them up just to get the tags back, I did it to win this fight, and the next ones too. Now they’ll leave me alone, and the others, too.”

“Ms. Katz,” Nat turned to your principal, “I would just like to thank you. Y/n and I will enjoy these next two weeks off. I want you to know that she will be receiving no punishment at home.”

The intercom on Ms. Katz’s desk buzzed.

“There’s someone here to see y-”

“Tell them to wait.” She cut them off, “Very well then. I also wanted to address her chronic lying.”

“Tell me more.”

“She insists her family is full of superheroes and spies.” She pulled out a drawing, “Here, she even drew this when we were supposed to be making family portraits.” The drawing was of you, Auntie Nat, your Dad, your Papa, Uncles Tony, Thor, Bruce, and Clint, the whole crew. After a pause, Auntie Nat nodded.

“This is just about right.” She smiled, “My hair used to be wavy, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“No,” Ms. Katz sighed, “She insists she lives with the Avengers! Don’t you see? She strings up wild stories about fighting Nazis and being frozen in a time capsule!”

“They’re true.” Nat’s phone buzzed. “And I can prove it. Tell your receptionist to let in the other visitor.”

Ms. Katz complied, the door opened, and Steve walked in. She stared agape for a moment, before regaining composure.

“That… That will be all, thank you.”

“Have you been reading Ender’s Game again?” Auntie Nat asked on the ride back to Steve’s apartment.

“Maybe…” You grinned, “Okay yeah.”

“Thought so, that speech sounded a bit familiar.”

#bucky barns #steven rogers #kid!reader #auntie nat #marvel #writeblr #all platonic #marvel x reader #avengers x platonic reader #avengers fan fic #fem!reader

[villainousshakespeare]

Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 14

Loki/OFC Rated E  Trigger Warnings: Smut (previous chapters) Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

So sorry for the delay on this. My father in law passed away two weeks ago, and family matters have consumed my life in the interim.

In any event, I hope you enjoy this plot heavy chapter! I promise there will be more smut to come. (no pun...)

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza  @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos @just-the-hiddles-reads  @alwida10  @justjoanne242 @chantsdemarins @lovelysizzlingbluebird​

"Oh dear," Caroline felt a blush consume her skin, "this is not going to go well at all, is it?"

One moment she had been anticipating Loki's return with eagerness and a small touch of anxiety (who knew what her decadent God would come up with), and the next a bright light and loud crash sent pieces of wood flying through the air. As she blinked to clear her eyes, she knew a moment of blind panic. There, glaring through the new hole in the wall next to the door that could very easily have been opened, stood her friend, patient, and sometime employer Tony Stark in his full Iron suit.

"Stay away from her!" Loki snarled, shoving Stark to the ground as he rushed to Caroline's side, protectively shielding her from him. "Are you injured darling?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, a warm rush of emotion coursing through her at his words. "Just a little startled."

"You are sure? If there is so much as a scratch on you, tell me so that I may make this worm bleed in return."

"Get away from her, you sick bastard!" Tony shouted in his turn, stepping into the room.

"Tony, it's not what it looks like," she blurted out, embarrassed as her position and lack of clothing brought about the realization of just what it did look like.

"It is alright, Doctor Thorpe, we will not let my brother take any further advantage of you."

Oh good, Thor was here too. Caroline groaned internally as she stared from one angry male to the next, wishing that the bed might swallow her whole.

"I would never take advantage of her!" Loki protested hotly. "Not unless she were perfectly willing!"

"And I suppose she was perfectly willing to be tied half naked to your bed?" Tony sneered.

"More than willing," Loki shot back. "Enthusiastic. Tell them, Min kjaereste, tell them you want to be here!"

"I did until a few moments ago," she said with a rueful half grin.

"You have mind controlled her!" Tony insisted. "We've seen how you turn people into your murder puppets. Now you've stepped it up to making them sex dolls as well?"

"Hey!" Caroline protested.

"I am not controlling her! Have you forgotten that I am no longer in possession of the scepter with the mind stone?"

"Really? It was her idea to be tied to your bed?"

"Well, actually..." Loki puffed out his chest, a smirk on his handsome face.

Caroline sighed, realizing it was up to her to end this farce. So much for her lovely idyl with Loki away from outside interference. She should have known it was too good to last.

"Enough," she did her best to summon her professional voice, not the easiest thing considering her state of undress. "I am not being mind controlled and I am certainly not a sex doll. Really, Tony!"

"In my defense, you would make a smoking hot one," he assured her, causing Loki to grip his knives tighter.

"Loki, perhaps you could stop growling long enough to untie me?" she suggested, wondering how on earth she had ended up in this situation.

Loki looked at her, blinked, and waved away her bonds while at the same time materializing shorts to cover her more. Bringing her arms down, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and placed a soothing hand on Loki's shoulder.

"Now, perhaps we could all go out into the living room and talk about this like civilized adults."

"You really are not under his magic?" Thor asked, voice confused as she rose from the bed.

"Only the magic of his personality."

"Oh yeah, he's all charm," Tony snarked, glaring at the snarling God.

"Living room, now," she commanded, done with all three of them.

Not waiting to see if they followed her, Caroline crossed to the door and deliberately opened it, ignoring the gaping hole in the wall. She took the large recliner, deciding it gave the greatest sense of power in the room. Loki stayed close by her side, hovering half behind, half next to her chair as Tony and Thor reluctantly took a seat on the sofa.

"Now, first things first," she said, wanting to cut off any attempts of one of them to steer the conversation back into dangerous waters. "How did you find us?"

"Your shield ID pin," Stark answered. "There's a tracker located on the back of it."

"You bugged her?" Loki snarled.

"Is that regulation?" she asked, startled.

"I like to keep tabs on the people I care about," Tony shrugged. "Particularly when I know they're consorting with dangerous criminals."

"Loki, I am so sorry," she told him. "I led them here."

"Sorry? For helping in your own rescue?" Tony's voice was incredulous.

"I was not in need of rescuing," she snapped back. "I don't know where you got the idea that Loki kidnapped me."

"Well, it was either that or you staged a jailbreak, and I know you would never do that... right?"

"They were going to kill him," she said in her defense.

"Okay, I'm going back to the brainwashing theory," Stark said.

"Look, I did what was asked of me," Caroline sought for calm amidst the bristling hostility in the air. "I talked to Loki about the lead up to the invasion, both immediate and going back some time. To say that there were extenuating circumstances is to grossly downplay the situation."

"Doctor, I know he can be extremely persuasive," Thor told her in a voice just sympathetic enough to be patronizing, "but Loki is very talented at spinning lies. He is not called Silver Tongue without good reason."

"Oh, she knows all about that, don't you pet?" Loki purred unhelpfully, brushing her hair from one shoulder and making her face heat again.

"Wow. There is an image I'm never going to get out of my brain, no matter how much bleach or tequila I try," Tony shuddered.

"The point is," she muscled through with gritted teeth, "Loki was not responsible for his actions. Thor, were you aware that for months leading up to the New York invasion, Loki was imprisoned, tortured, and subjected to all sorts of mental conditioning?"

"Is this true, Loki?" Thor's voice was suddenly awash in concern, and his guileless blue eyes misted over a bit.

"You never even bothered to look for him!" Caroline's anger bubbled to the surface at Thor's display of emotion now that the damage was done. "None of you, his so called family, could be bothered to search when your brother threw himself to his death in the middle of an identity crises."

"He was in crises?" Thor asked in a small voice.

"Well how would you feel? Really, Thor, how would you feel if you found out your whole life the people who were supposed to be protecting you had been feeding you lies? If you found out the truth was that you were from a loathed enemy who your own brother had sworn to exterminate? Do you think, if you can think, that you might just have a small problem reconciling all of that while, I don't know, trying to be King because your father conveniently fell asleep?"

"That wasn't in the reading," Tony said into the silence that followed her angry stream of questions.

"I would never have hurt you, Loki," Thor said at last with pleading eyes. "You are my brother, no matter what your species."

"Well, that's nice," Caroline's anger had lowered to a simmer, but it was far from burned out, "but unfortunately Pierce and his goons do not have the same familial sentiment to fall back on."

"He did kill a ton of people," Stark pointed out, almost regretfully.

"I told you, he was conditioned, mind controlled," she spoke before Loki had the chance to let fly with an ill timed barb. "The weapon he used to control others was in turn controlling him."

"Tortured or not, Loki's mind is a formidable thing, highly trained," Thor sounded doubtful. "What could possibly overpower him in that way?"

"Compared to you, Sleipnere's mind is formidable," Loki said, but with wry affection he could not hide in his voice. "It's an infinity stone, Thor. The jewel in the Scepter is the Mind Stone. Even I was eventually no match for it when wielded by one who knew how."

"Who, brother? Who was behind this?" Thor sounded truly alarmed now.

"Thanos," Loki sighed, the name sounding vile on his tongue. "Thanos and his Obsidian Order seek the Infinity Stones. I need not tell you, if they acquire them all it will go ill all."

***

While he would have far preferred continuing with his original plan of teasing Caroline into a state of wanton frenzy before relenting and fucking her senseless, there was something sweet about watching her lash into Thor and Stark. She was so passionate in his defense, that he even could forgive her for making him sound in need of rescuing.

Certainly, it had had an effect on the two men who had come crashing into their retreat. Thor, that soft hearted idiot, was all but weeping by the time she was done. Even Tony Stark, the soulless narcissist he had heard so much about and enjoyed sparring with more than he cared to admit, looked a bit taken aback as Caroline recounted all that he had gone through.

It was all very amusing, in its way, until the damned stones came into the conversation. He had known he could not avoid it. They and the one who had sent him for them were at the heart of the whole ugly mess. Still, of all the memories he most wished to banish forever, those of Thanos and his "children" were among the worst.

"Okay, so I am guess that the Infinity Stones are not a Power Band," Tony said, once again breaking the silence. "Someone want to fill me in on what they are?"

"Vesels of primordial force so powerful that they can create or destroy worlds," Thor's voice was hushed and serious. "They have been here since the beginning of this universe. One is enough to travel through time, or alter reality, or control a mind even as strong as Loki's. But if one were to assemble them all, they would have power to rival the AllFather."

"Putting aside Big Daddy for a moment," Tony said, "you are saying that the scepter currently sitting in a lab in the SHIELD base is powerful enough to end the world?"

"By itself, no," Loki assured him. "The scepter holds the Mind Stone. Alone, that can win you armies, but at a price."

"Not a price I'd willingly pay again," Loki added.

His memories of the days leading up to the Chitari attack through his time in the cell at SHIELD were a blur to him. Most of the time, he preferred it that way. He was aware of his actions, but it almost seemed to him as though someone else had committed them. For a being who valued control as much as Loki, it had been unbearable.

"Alright, let's say I believe you," Tony had risen from the couch and begun to pace. "Let's say that you were this innocent little Space Prince who just happened to stumble into the wrong crowd. Why not say so? Why run? And why take my doc with you?"

"She is not yours!"

The very idea of this insignificant human claiming ownership of any sort over Caroline made Loki's blood pound in his ears. She deserved far more than any of the pathetic mortals could hope to give her, even one who's intelligence seemed at least to extend slightly beyond the norm.

"Down boy, no need to pee on her," Stark said crudely.

"I told you," Caroline answered, once more laying a calming hand on Loki. "The word was already circulating that Pierce meant to kill him that night."

"That's why he sent me on that fool errand!" Loki rolled his eyes as he saw the lightbulb flash on behind his brother's eyes. "I knew there was no reason for one of my prowess to subdue some puny group of arms traders! He knew I would not allow them to murder you."

"With you gone, and Fury AWOL, there was no one there to speak up. That left it up to me to get him out of there."

Caroline spoke as if singlehandedly breaking a prisoner out of one of the most secure facilities on the planet were task anyone might have thrust upon them. Once more in awe of her courage, Loki took her hand and raised it wordlessly to his lips.

"I thank you, Doctor Thorpe," Thor told her.

"I didn't intend on escaping with him, that was an accident," she added. "Actually, we couldn't have escaped at all if you hadn't given me Fury's password, and the hint to getting into the rest of his office."

"That's why you called, me," Tony shook his head. "Son of a bitch."

"I just meant to take the key for his cuffs," she went on. "But when I saw the cube, I realized it was one of the stones Loki had told me about. I wanted him to take it away, where it wouldn't bring danger to our world."

"Fortunately for me," Loki smirked. "Thank you, Stark, for your assistance. Without the Tesseract, I might have escaped myself, but I would not have had such enchanting company."

"I would think twice about bringing us back, Tony," Caroline said, smiling blandly at her friend. "If we are forced to stand trial, it would be only a matter of time before they asked how I got into Fury's office. I would hate for you to get into trouble for helping me."

"Why Doctor Caroline Thorpe, are you blackmailing me?" Tony asked, eyes wide.

"Let's call it mutually assured destruction," she smiled in return. "You let us be, we don't turn you in either."

Loki's heart sored at her words. That she would take such an audacious stance for him was humbling. He knew not what he had done to earn her fierce loyalty, but he vowed in that moment to do everything in his power to be worthy of it.

"Are you sure you aren't brainwashing her? She's never been this insubordinate before."

"I never had something so worth fighting for before. Look, Tony, what it really comes down to is that I'm asking you to trust me."

Stark looked back and forth from Caroline to Loki, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Alright," he said at last. "Where are the rest of these poprocks, and how do we get them off of Earth?"

#Loki #Loki Fan Fic #Post Avengers Assemble #Thor #Tony Stark #Loki/OFC #Avengers Fan Fic #Loki needs a hug #talk of past abuse #talk of past trauma #Talk of past torture #Loki gets therapy #Odin's A+ parenting #in defense of loki #Smut in previous chapters

[buckyalpine]

Imagine you get into the holiday spirt with the cutest Christmas sweater, the fluffiest socks and these adorable bells in your hair. You're running around the compound with hot chocolate and cookies, the jingle of your bells ringing with each step. Everyone things its adorable. You're like a little elf, busy in your workshop (the kitchen), surrounded by marshmallows, whipped cream, delivering mugs of creamy sweetness along with homemade gingerbread men.

Everyone finds it so cute.

Everyone except Bucky.

Bucky hates it.

He hates the little tinkle he hears with each footstep you take.

Why?

Because his mind is in the gutter.

Your running around looking all cute and sweet and innocent and all he can think about is how gorgeous those bells would sound as he railed you with his cock.

He decided to stay in his room, hoping a book would calm him down but who was he kidding, his enhanced hearing meant he could hear you scurry around down the hall towards his room, and holy shit, if he could just grab your hair and bend you over-

"Bucky!" You lightly knocked at his door before popping your head in with a cheery smile, holding a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and plenty of whipped cream. No matter how intimidating Bucky painted himself out to be, you knew the soldier loved all the little extra toppings, especially after you caught him adding extra whipped cream when no one was looking.

"Hey" Bucky's voice came out more strained than intended, hoping to will his erection away which currently throbbed with need.

"I brought you hot chocolate" You stepped into his room, pausing when Bucky's smiled looked more like a grimace as he shifted from his place sitting against the headboard.

"Is-is everything okay?" You ask, padding towards him and he can't even hide the tent in his sweats, setting down the book he was reading to try and cover himself.

"Of course-yeah-thanks y/n" He rasped out as you came over and handed him the mug, your sweet scent of vanilla, sugar and spices only making it harder for him to keep his hands to himself.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You could tell Bucky was tensed, chewing his lip without meeting your eyes which was strange considering he was normally fine around you.

"Wouldn't be able to tell you sweets" Bucky chuckled to himself with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck while you cocked your head to the side, the tiny movement making the bells ring again.

Fuck.

"I don't think you'd want to help with something like this doll"

"Try me"

-

"OH" *jingle* "MY" *jingle* "GOD" You wailed, your bells ringing with each thrust as Bucky's cock slammed into you, his hands squeezing your hips as he fucked you from behind. He had you on your hands and knees after tearing your clothes of, loving the needy little whimper you let out after you caught a glimpse of his rock hard cock pressing against his sweats.

"That's it baby, that's it, sound so pretty with those cute little bells in your hair" Bucky groaned, biting his lip to keep his voice down as he fucked you harder, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, "Look at how you're taking all of me baby, taking my big dick so well, such a good. Girl"

"More, want-more" you hiccupped, tears from pleasure streaking down your face, squealing when Bucky's hand spanked your ass before pulling out and manhandling you till you were on top. You whined, your lips pulled into a pout, all naked on top of the soldier except for the bells in your hair, your needy pussy clamping down on him. You pawed at his hand, tugging it to where you needed him most, moaning when he used his thumb to rub your clit, smirking at your fucked out state.

"Aww babygirl, are you too cockdrunk to fuck yourself on my dick" Bucky cooed as you squirmed on top of him, sloppily grinding yourself, your greedy cunt begging for anything he'd give you. You

"Fuck you're such a little slut" Bucky gritted out as he planted his feet against the mattress and started to fuck up into you, your boobs bouncing in his face matching the dainty rings every time he thrusted his hips up. "Want you under that goddamn tree and nothing else baby, gonna fuck you on every surface of his place"

Bucky could only take so much, his balls pulling tight to his body, cum desperate to blow and paint your walls, your pleasure contorted face all just for him.

"Walking around with these fuckin' bells, making my cock so hard, lookit how pretty you sound now baby, fuck y/n, m'gonna cum!"

"C-cum in me Bucky" You cried out, sobbing in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you, collapsing against his chest as he fucked you through your high.

"That's it baby, milk my cock, that's what I want for Christmas, wanna empty my balls in you, fuck-oh fuck-milk it baby, shitt!" Bucky bit down on your shoulder to muffle his loud moans, shoving his dick in as far as it would go as he started to throb ropes of his spend into you.

That was round 1.

-

"You look like you've seen a ghost" Tony snorted as he saw Sam and Steve enter the living room, the captain's face pale in shock while Sam couldn't stop grinning. "What happened. We're gonna start the movie soon, where's metal man and y/n"

Steve went beet red while Sam cackled, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Making their own rendition of Jingle Bells"

Anyway, I'm sorry for giving you debauched instead of wholesome plots, MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS (the filthy part is for me @ myself)

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky smut #marvel smut #avengers smut #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fanart #bucky barnes x freader #bucky barnes x fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female yn #bucky x f reader

[heytheredelulu]

ready to comply part 2? 👉👈

As you wish!

I may have left this one on a cliff hanger as well. 🫣

I’M SORRY! I was just having so much fun I had to leave it open in case there was interest for a part three. ❤️

Ready to Comply - Part Two

Requested by @littleone2001

Soldat!Bucky Barnes x PlusSized!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, gun play (sorry, not sorry), unprotected sex, rough sex, a lil boob slap (once, because I had to), spanking, fingering (f receiving), anal fingering (f receiving), brief discussion of kidnapping/making reader his sex slave

✏️ A/N at the end.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Oh fuck.

You muster up a small, broken sound from your chest when the realization finally hits you that your desire is overwhelming Bucky’s senses to the point that he’s struggling just to think.

“I-“

His fingers hook beneath the saturated fabric of your panties, his fingers grazing against your folds and igniting a heat in your body that sets your nerves on fire.

He tears them away, reducing them to a tattered rag in his fist which he brings to his nose and inhales deeply before he discards them to the floor with a growl.

He forces your thick thighs apart, spreading you open with his trembling fingers to observe your tight, wet hole as it clenches desperately around nothing.

“Fuck!”

His breath catches in his chest and he stumbles back, withdrawing the gun from his shoulder holster and brandishing it at you.

Your eyes widen as you snap your legs shut, raising your hands defensively and shrinking back in horror.

Bucky steps forward and presses the barrel of the gun against your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out.

“You’re going to kill me.” You whisper, fear taking hold as your eyes screw shut and a tear slips down your cheek.

He shakes his head slowly, tracing the cool metal of his weapon along your jawline. “No, I ain’t gonna kill you. Not yet.”

Your eyes open, your expression twisting into one of confusion. “Then why.. why are you sorry?”

He sets his jaw, lifting his left hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Because I’m gonna hurt you.” He rasps.

Your brows knit in concern. “What do y-“

Bucky cuts you short, replying only by dipping his gun between your legs, pressing it firmly against your bare, weeping cunt.

Your entire body seizes in terror but as he drags the cool, hard weapon along your slick folds, the fear gives way to something else entirely.

“You don’t wanna hurt me..” You say slowly, carefully, biting back a moan as the barrel of the gun grazes across your clit.

“But I do.” He taunts, pulling the gun away and gripping your jaw with bruising force. He presses it to your mouth, your slick coating the metal and wetting your bottom lip. “Open.” He growls, leaving you little choice with how hard he’s holding your chin. He forces the gun into your mouth, your eyes wide in apprehension. “Suck.” He demands, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around it, tasting yourself on the bitter metal. He groans, withdrawing it harshly from your mouth with a string of spittle and tucking it back into its holster.

“I’m gonna fuck you. And it’s gonna hurt.” He mutters, his calloused fingers moving to unbuckle his belt.

“Bucky y-“ He pinches your cheeks together painfully in his metal hand, effectively silencing you.

“Quit fuckin’ calling me that!” He snaps, using his grip on your jaw to yank you forward to him.

“Soldat.” He corrects in a menacing tone, nodding your head for you to ensure you understood.

“That is my name. I suggest you remember it, because you’re about to be screaming it.”

He releases your face harshly, reaching to pull his hard, thick cock from his jeans and spitting into his palm. He curls his hand around his impressive length and pumps himself lazily from base to tip, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slit and smearing beads of precum along his shaft to mingle with his saliva.

Your eyes follow every stroke of his hand as he closes in on you, your brain working to comprehend just how in the hell your body was going to accommodate his size.

He’s right. This is going to hurt.

He clutches the neckline of your dress with his free hand, ripping and tearing the fabric until you’re bared to him and he kneads at your breast roughly pinching the pebbled flesh of your nipple harshly between his fingers, drawing a small cry from you.

“Buc-“ You stammer.

He slaps your tit hard and you wince from the sting as it radiates across the tender flesh of your ample breast.

“Soldat.” He growls through clenched teeth, hiking your legs to rest your heels on his shoulders and tilting your pelvis upwards as he lines himself up with your aching entrance.

You suck in a sharp breath as the crown of his cock breeches your tight, wet hole and you writhe underneath him against the sting as he splits you open, stretching your cunt and filling you in a way you’ve never experienced.

A shameless moan erupts from your throat when he begins to snap his hips, fucking into you with a merciless rhythm. What was once pain is quickly building into pleasure and your back arches up off the desk.

“So fucking tight.” He grunts, his heavy sack swinging with every deep thrust into your dripping cunt. His jaw clenches and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading you wider as he tucks his chin to watch himself disappear into your wet heat with a predatory gaze.

Pleasure builds in your abdomen and you rock your hips to meet his hungry thrusts, biting down on your bottom lip as his thick cock massages your inner walls. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s biting back a smirk when he registers you eagerly moving in sync with him. He snakes a hand down between you, tracing his fingers along the girth of his cock where he’s filling you and gathers your slick along his fingertips, raising his hand and spreading his fingers to admire the sheen of your wetness with a thoughtful expression.

Without warning he withdraws, leaving you desperate and empty when he lets your right leg drop and curls his hand around your left ankle, flipping you hard onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and yanks you backwards towards him so you’re bent over your desk with the lip of it biting into your pelvis. He delivers a harsh smack to your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand, then dipping his head down to suck a bruise into the skin before biting down hard into your plump cheek. You yelp and raise yourself up on your palms, but Bucky splays a large, calloused hand across your back, forcing you back down and kicking your legs wider with the toe of his boot.

He plunges two fingers in your thoroughly fucked hole, coating them in your arousal before withdrawing them and sinking his cock back into your swollen cunt. Strangled noises of pleasure catch in your throat and you push your hips back greedily to meet him, your walls throbbing around him as ruts into you, his balls slapping against your clit and sending shockwaves through you with every brutal thrust.

He spreads your ass cheeks roughly, teasing his wet index finger along your backside, circling your puckered hole and causing you to squirm. He presses into you, working his finger in sync with his hips, massaging it into you until you manage to take him to the knuckle and he lets out a satisfied groan that you nearly drown out in your own wanton moan.

“Fuck.” He rasps out, pain blooming as he moves to add a second finger. You cry out at the intrusion, your hands clenching into fists above your head and your nails biting into your palms as he rocks his fingers into you, scissoring you open.

You thought you’d been full when it was only his cock but fuck, were you wrong.

It was too much.

It was too good.

The tension wound tight in your abdomen finally snaps and you completely shatter.

A choked sob rips from your throat and your pussy spasms, your walls fluttering around his cock and your asshole contracting around his fingers as you scream, your orgasm tearing through you with enough force to make your head spin and your ears ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He slips his fingers from your tight hole, grabbing hold of your hips with both hands and slamming into you with unrelenting force, fucking you through each wave of euphoria as they crashed over you in succession.

“I’m gonna tell them I killed you.” He grunts, his cock kissing your cervix. “So no one will ever come looking for you.”

You mumble incoherently, tears of ecstasy staining your cheeks as you lay limp in the wake of your earth shattering release while he continues to pound into you at a steady pace.

“I think I’ll keep you tied to my bed.” He whispers in a menacing tone, his thrusts growing frantic as he chases his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna fuck every hole in your body, every day, until you can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Bucky snaps his hips forward in one last powerful thrust and then stills, shouting a string of curses as his cock pulses and he pulls your plump ass flush to his pelvis, emptying himself deep inside of you.

He tilts his head back, his chest rising and falling erratically and then pulls out, staggering back as you rise up and turn to face him with flushed cheeks and hair slicked against your sweaty forehead.

“Get dressed.” He orders, tugging his jeans up and fastening his belt. “You’re coming with me.”

You nod and move on weak knees, feeling his cum slowly leaking from your cunt as you gather your blazer. He watches you carefully as you pull it on, buttoning it in an attempt to cover your naked body.

Bucky holds out his hand impatiently and you take it, cautiously moving closer to him, your thighs sticky as they rub together with every step you take.

You place a palm flat against his chest and he looks down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion at your gentle gesture before you rise up on your tiptoes, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens momentarily but quickly reciprocates, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in a silent demand to deepen the kiss. You comply, moving your tongue slowly against his in a sensual dance and tracing your hands along his broad chest as you lean further into him.

When you break the kiss abruptly and step back out of his embrace, he blinks in bewilderment before his face contorts into rage as he registers that he’s staring into the barrel of his own gun.

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe

A/N: My husband gave me so much shit for this while I was writing it: tHiS iSnT cAnOn, BuCkY wOuLdNt Do ThAt, iT dOeSnT mAkE sEnSe

Look, I know. It’s a fanfic, it’s AU, it’s not canon.

Anyway, now I’m really anxious about posting this, worried that it won’t meet your expectations. So I hope you enjoy so I can tell my husband to suck it. 😈

💋Sj

#bucky barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader requests #bucky barnes x plus size reader #Soldat Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #marvel smut #avengers smut #winter soldier x you #winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier fic #smut requests #smutty fic #all smut #smutty fanfiction #fan fiction request #james bucky buchanan barnes

[thornsnvultures]

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor. 

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom. 

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow. 

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head. 

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent. 

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

--

-

🖤

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #my fics

[drgrlfriend]

@brilcrist created this lovely art depicting a scene from my fic! My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

That is … definitely a guy fighting with a bow and arrow.  He’s tall and blond — could probably pass for Steve at a distance, but maybe even a touch taller and built a bit leaner — wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a fancy-looking recurve bow in his hand and a quiver strapped slantways across his back.  He’s got his back to a giant maple tree, and is firing arrows in a blur of motion while ducking lasers from the bots.  These ones look a little like the Daleks from that show Tony and Bruce love — vaguely conical and stumpy, with what seems to be a single laser on each.  

“Why ain’t he gettin’ up in that tree?” Bucky wonders aloud, revving through the preserve.  “It’s a better tactical position.”  He’s starting to see scattered bots now, and he slaloms a course through them, swinging his metal arm and sending them flying as he zooms by.

“Not everyone has sniper training,” Sam suggests.  “He’s probably just some archery hobbyist, or something.  Probably doesn’t know the first damn thing about fighting.”

A bot has gotten close up on the guy’s flank, and he seems to realize just in time.  He somersaults sideways, coming up with an arrow in his hand and jamming it directly into the bot’s side just as a shot from Redwing finishes it off.  

“I don’t know about that,” Steve says dryly.  “Seems to be doing pretty good to me.  Either way, we’re almost on him; Bucky, I’ll take the right side, you take the left.”

“Copy.”  There’s a line of bots advancing on the guy and Bucky pulls up with a sharp twist, planting his left foot and letting the rear of the bike skid sideways so that the back wheel takes out the bots like a row of dominoes.

Out of the corner of his eye Bucky sees Steve hurtle over the handlebars of his own motorcycle and yeet the whole damn thing at a cluster of bots.  No finesse, that guy.

Bucky jumps off his bike, swinging at the bots closest to him.  He’s just about dealt with that cluster and is only a few paces away from the archer when the guy’s eyes widen.  He lunges toward Bucky, pushing him aside just as one of the bots on the ground fires.

The man yelps and staggers, pressing a hand to his side.

“What kind of idiot are you?” Bucky growls, pulling the man back and putting his own body between him and the bot.  “Let me take the hits!” 

A furrow appears between the man’s brows, his mouth gaping for a moment, and then he seems to shake it off, nocking another arrow and loosing it.  It skims so close to Bucky’s face that it stirs his hair, and Bucky whirls to see another bot was sneaking up on him.

“Jesus, these things are everywhere,” Bucky complains, drawing his Glock and firing, taking out the laser of the one on the ground.  

“There’s a weak spot in the armor plating on the left side,” the man yells.  

Time seems to stop for a moment, Bucky’s heart stuttering and then kicking into overdrive.  The air around him suddenly seems crystal clear — Bucky can see every individual leaf on every tree, can hear the sighing of the wind and the rustle of the leaves, the whirring of the bots and the heartbeat and panting breaths of the guy as he ducks another laser.

“Bucky, did he —” Steve starts over the comm.

“Not now, Stevie,” Bucky manages.  He shakes off his shock and forcibly shoves the revelation to the back of his mind in order to focus on the task at hand.  Time seems to lurch back into a normal speed and Bucky concentrates on blocking the man from the line of fire of the largest cluster of approaching bots.

“I’ll make an opening, you run for it,” he shouts.

“I’m not leaving,” the man shouts back.  Jesus christ, another vigilante-wannabe.  They’re coming out of the woodwork these days.  Was this guy even in the park when all this started, or did he come looking for a fight?

“Watch your back,” Bucky instructs with a mental shrug, and then there’s no more time for words, the two of them fighting fiercely against the oncoming wave of bots.  

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #clint barton #hawkeye #winterhawk #marvel #avengers #fanfiction #my heart will be your home #my fic #fan art #brilcrist

[ynscrazylife]

You know what I really miss? Avengers x teen!reader headcanons, there use to be so much avengers content and practically dominated tumblr🥲

It would totally make my WEEK if you would make some classic mcu avengers(before infinity war) x teen!reader x Peter Parker(romantic) headcanons just about reader having powers and what it’s like living with the avengers 💕

-possible your new 👾anon?

let’s do this 💪 and YES you’ll be my first emoji anon!! @ anyone else, feel free to claim ur emoji!!

avengers x teen!reader headcanons

The Avengers are definitely reluctant to add another teenager to the team. Having Peter is great but has been a big adjustment, as they had to train him and protect him, less they face the wrath of Aunt May.

However, you were a compelling case, with your extensive abilities. You didn’t have many other options as to where to go and you hit it off with Peter right off the bat, working very well together as a pair. So, they took you in.

Tony worked with you on designs for your suit, Natasha and Steve trained you in combat (which meant you were going on morning runs with Steve and Sam. How fun . . . Though Sam could be convinced to give you piggy back rides, and you became Clint’s personal arrow-picker-upper. If you had powers, Wanda would definitely help you manage them.

Peter was naturally in tune to science, which meant you hung around the lab with him and Bruce a lot. It became a nice time to get your homework done, as Bruce would definitely help you with that. Sometimes you acted as Bruce’s and Peter’s assistant with their experiments.

Bruce was also a very good listener and your go-to person to vent to about your life’s problems (when Peter wasn’t around).

One of the conditions to be on the team was that you didn’t lapse in schoolwork, so they were very on top of that and your grades. Tony even offered to go to parent-teacher meetings. Any one of them were ready to go to your teachers or principal if anything happened.

Natasha would routinely check in with you to make sure that you weren’t being bullied.

Pepper also became a motherly figure, as she cared very much about you and Peter. She’d offer you a Stark Industries internship.

Movie nights were chaotic, but absolutely the best. It was hard for anyone to agree, so the team had a system where they’d rotate who got to pick the meeting. Sam and Peter were also not allowed to make popcorn after many unfortunate incidents. Most of the time you fell asleep late into the night and one of the Avengers carried you to bed (they’d never admit this, but that also became an argument).

It was during a movie night when Peter realized he liked you romantically. You fell asleep during a movie, your head on his shoulder. Peter swore he never experienced something so precious before. He was adamant to keep your peace, glaring at anyone who dared to talk.

The team found your growing romance to be adorable and often teased the two of you about it. The only people who didn’t tease you were Bruce, Pepper, and Thor (because he didn’t really understand how to effectively tease).

If Flash messed with you, Peter was always on top of it. He’d always protect you.

Steve was also always making sure that you knew right from wrong. He’d give long speeches about how it wasn’t right to smoke, drink, do drugs, etc.

Then Thor gave you Asgardian alcohol once, not realizing how bad that was considering you’re both human and underage. That was a mess. Peter having to hold your hair back when you vomited and multiple Avengers escorting you to bed. Thor got an earful about it.

Clint was one of the ones who better understood you, seeing as he had experience with his own kids. He was always good at mediating and defusing the tension.

Laura also adored you, you were her favorite babysitter for the kids. Whenever they went on date night, they’d drop the kids off at the tower, and you would watch them (Peter would help when he wasn’t on patrol).

Patrolling with Peter was also very fun. More often than not he’d convince you to take a break, then swing you up on top of a roof to watch over the city and the sky.

On multiple occasions, KAREN would rat the two of you out to Tony, but he was never mad. He just wanted to know all about the “date”.

Prom was also very fun. Honestly, the whole team would want to come pick out outfits with you and Peter. They took many, many pictures on the night of. Peter also teared up when he saw you. He thought you were stunning.

Of course, you guys had a curfew, but it was alright. You and Peter had a fantastic night. All he wanted to do was dance and hold you.

You had Happy wrapped around your finger. You could really convince him to drive you anywhere you wanted to go.

You also managed to get an internship at the Sanctum Santorum, learning more about magic under Doctor Strange and Wong’s guidance. The Avengers weren’t particularly thrilled, as they were worried about you being hurt, but understood your want to explore.

You really wanted to see all the areas of being a hero. Clint taught you archery and Natasha taught you how to be a spy. You’d listen to Natasha and Clint’s spy stories for hours. Peter would have to pry you away.

Peter always insisted on having date nights and would go all out, making every date special. He’d do anything to make you happy.

And so would all the Avengers. They loved seeing you smile, it brightened up their whole world and made the team stronger.

#avengers headcanons #avengers imagine #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #avengers family #avengers fic #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x you #avengers marvel #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #marvel #mcu #marvel fics #marvel fan fiction

[slightly-smarter-nat]

What about a Natasha Romanoff X female avenger!R where Natasha has constant nightmares and has a hard time falling asleep. Then one night she finds R in the compound living room watching TV or something cause R is a night owl or just hanging around, so the red head joins her. It’s going great and Nat starts to relax but then R starts giving signs of heading to bed but Nat prolongs or suggests other things to do like have tea, watch a movie, braid hair, paint nails, anything she can come up with to not let R leave her alone and having to go back to sleep in fear of the nightmares coming back. Eventually R catches on what’s happening and asks why Nat is not letting her go to sleep and the Russian confesses, feeling guilty for keeping R from going to bed. But then R suggests Nat sleep in her room, like a sleepover, and by the end feelings are confessed! Sorry for being specific!! You write Natasha so well and on point!! I always love seeing (reading) this soft side of her!!

Favourite Person || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, mention of trauma, mentions of the Red Room, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 5127 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request Anon, (I’m so sorry it’s late). To the anon that requested this fic, if you are not happy with it and would like me to re-write it, I will happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

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Favourite Person: Natasha Romanoff-

“No, no please- just let me go!”

The somewhat delicate yet rasping sounds of pleading whimpers of desired escape fill the momentarily still bedroom belonging to that of Natasha Romanoff.

Desperate intakes of air in combination with mind numbing struggles against a dream-like battle that she fails to overcome each night she’s graced with even a substantial set of hours to sleep, plague her traumatised mind.

With one final desperate gust of air surging through her windpipe, she forces her now awakened self up from the sweat-tainted mattress that supports her body.

Glistening, tear-filled eyes frantically roam the features of the room as Natasha scans her environment for any potential intruder destined to cause harm to her.

With a soft and grounding clutch to her Anchor shaded comforter, she concludes that she’s safe for another night; and that her wicked past has once again robbed her of another night of a peaceful and yet craved slumber.

Natasha can’t help as her hands roam her heated skin, having the urge to fidget as her mind fails to come down from the relentless period of memories belonging to that of the Red Room- ones that she would be ever so quick to forget if she was given the opportunity.

Knowing any further hours designated to sleep were off the table, Natasha leans her trembling body over to her bedside table- hoping to deliver herself a well needed drink of water to not only lessen her now dry throat, but to have the calming effect needed to slow her rapidly pacing heart rate down.

Much to her dismay, as she grasps the hardened plastic cup that once held a heaped amount of water in it; she soon realises her cup is now empty.

Having had her right to drink forfeited, she releases a gentle breath of frustration, alongside a string of Russian curses at the continuous, nightly bad luck that seems to be lurking its way to her recently.

One night she hopes she can have a dreamless sleep just to gather up enough energy to carry out her duties as an Avenger, and to stop her waking mind from reliving the nightmares from the night before. Though that seems like too much to ask.

Refusing to re-enter her nightmares once more during the nightly period, she sleepily hoists her body out from between her sheets. Ensuring she gives herself a moment to steady her breathing before leaving her darkened room.

Knowing she is ready, she quickly swipes her empty cup from her bedside table and ever so quietly makes her way to her bedroom door; taking extra care when turning the doorknob to exit the room with as minimal levels of noise as possible. She’d hate herself for disturbing any of her teammates with her late night adventure to the kitchen. Just because she can’t sleep, why should they pay the price in losing sleep also?

Little does Natasha know, one teammate in particular would lose countless hours of sleep to ensure the redhead was safe and secure in any situation- especially when her haunting dreams take their toll.

As Natasha makes her way through the narrow pathways leading to her desired location; she picks up a little tune on the side of her cup, allowing her nails to tap mindlessly against the smooth surface. Hoping her mind chooses to focus on the range of movements needed to continue the repeated pattern, opposed to the horrors lingering from within.

That is until her ears pick up on muffled voices coming from the living area of the Compound.

Natasha’s entire system freezes; in her sleepy and somewhat confused state of mind, her thoughts rush to the most terrifying conclusions:

The voices could belong to Hydra members; desperate to seek and steal documents from the Avengers. It could be the Red Room, sending their final wave of untraceable Widows to finish Natasha and Yelena off, and in the process take out the Avengers.

With a vice, tight grip now on her cup, Natasha steadily allows her feet to move herself towards the noise source in a stealthy manner- attempting to gauge the seriousness of the situation and to determine how much force will be needed to deal with the potential intruders.

Natasha unknowingly releases laboured breaths, each step filling her body with a dread that she has not felt since she was a child roaming the hallways of the Red Room itself. Desperately trying to move from one room to another without being punished for stepping in the incorrect sequence or even making too much noise when she is so harshly trained to be as silent as a whisper.

As Natasha lines her back with the edge of the wall leading to the Living Area and Kitchen, she inhales a steady breath, knocking herself into her ruthless ‘Black Widow’ nature. With a hardened glare, she moves her line of sight around the corner to which her entire demeanour drops as soon as she spots the unexpected scene unfolding in front of her.

She finds you laying across the couch haphazardly as you stare at the TV screen illuminating the room in a gentle, blue hue as the muffled voices that Natasha mistakenly thought to be intruders continue- seemingly now belonging to the show that entraps your attention currently.

Natasha slowly moves closer to you, noticing more details as she approaches: like how one of your legs swings over the edging of the sofa in a careless motion as you stare at the images dancing across the screen; how you lazily place singular pieces of popcorn on your tongue in anticipation to bite down on the slightly hardened texture of the food item. Even how you carefully rest your head on your supported hand, tilting your gaze in wonderment of the information being gathered from the show of your choice.

She can’t help but stare at you in awe, finding it highly difficult to recall an instance where she has known you to be so calm and collected. Even being in your presence has removed some of the tension that had been built up in her muscles since she woke up from her nightmare.

She must admit, she’s relieved to find you of all people out here. Out of all the members of the team recently, you’ve been one of the only ones who can effortlessly put a smile on her face- something she is in desperate need of in her current state.

Having the overwhelming sense to join you, she chooses to clear her throat, snapping you out of your TV trance once you register her presence.

You quickly reach for the TV remote and eagerly press down on the mute button as you go to speak to Natasha, “Oh, hey, sorry did I wake you up?”

Natasha quickly shakes her head, “No, I just- I wanted some more water. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up so late.” Natasha silently scolds herself for her awkward stuttering for an answer. Though she knows she’s not quite ready to burden you with her night terrors, part of her feels the added weight of keeping the anxiety surrounding them in once more.

You push yourself up from the couch with a slight groan, having been in the same position for several hours straight, “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m more of a ‘night owl’ than anything so usually I watch my shows in my room but my TV is busted. Tony said he will fix it for me tomorrow so this is more of a one off.” You say as you gesture to the scene around you.

Natasha takes in your words as she draws invisible patterns on her cup, “Don’t apologise, it’s nice to have some company at this time of night.” Natasha says genuinely, usually having to face the aftermath of her nightmares alone until the more reasonable hours of the morning.

“What are you watching?” She attempts to guide the conversation forward.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Natasha to show an interest, “Oh, um Cupcake Wars.” You answer with glee.

Natasha smirks at your show choice, “Cupcake Wars? Really?” She says in a humoured manner.

You tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, “Judgment? Really?” You remark in a light manner, earning a chuckle from the Black Widow herself.

You lick your lips before you go to speak again, “You can blame Yelena for this, I wasn’t even into it until she made me watch it.”

Natasha scoffs in disbelief, never having assumed Yelena would even be into shows such as this, “Yelena? My sister? The lean, mean Mac n’ Cheese loving machine?”

You laugh at her words, knowing upon Yelena’s arrival to the Avengers she was eager to let it be known of her efficiency as a former member of the Red Room and how ambitious she can be in her line of work, but to her Sister and friends, she’s as soft as they come.

“Well yes, your sister, who I happened to be paired up with on a Recon Mission in December, decided that we needed to fulfil our ‘authentic American Christmas’, by watching the ‘Holiday Special’ of this series whilst we waited for Hydra to mess up and give us intel. Ever since then we’ve watched every episode, and we can mutually agree it’s the best decision we have ever made.” You playfully put it to Natasha, knowing she loves hearing the details of how well Yelena is settling into her new life away from the Red Room- the now secure life the two of them deserve.

Natasha beams at the information, relieved that Yelena is finding comfort within the Avengers, “Thank you for including her.” Natasha simply says, extremely grateful for your kindness, not only towards her, but to her little sister.

You smile at Natasha’s words, “Of course, it’s the same kindness you showed me when I first arrived at the Compound.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at your words, “Oh, believe me, it was a hard task being kind to you. You were feral.” Natasha attempts to tease you, knowing your first impressions of each other has been a running gag in your friendship for years.

You release an exaggerated gasp at her words, “Well, we both know I had Tony as my mentor so what did everyone expect to happen honestly?! I think I turned out pretty good considering my Avenger upbringing.” You lift yourself up to tuck one of your legs underneath yourself, seemingly becoming more engaged in the conversation through excitement of having Natasha close by.

Natasha pouts her lip and nods along to your words, “Sure, sure, we’ll let you believe that y/l/n.”

You quickly pick up a piece of popcorn to throw at Natasha, allowing your joyful laughs to fill the room.

Natasha easily catches the rogue piece of Popcorn, shoving it into her mouth for good measure, before bringing up the subject she has been dreading since she engaged in conversation with you, “I guess I had better grab my drink and leave you be. Goodnight, y/n.”

Your momentarily excited features drop slightly at Natasha’s words and loss of presence, you love being in her company. Majority of the time she’s the main source of happiness you can grasp at, with having some horrific events occur from your job, it’s refreshing having that comfort person you can call your friend- that person being Natasha.

Part of you also picks up on the depressed features of Natasha’s posture; usually present when something is on her mind or after a gruelling Mission.

You fail to anticipate your own moves when you hear Natasha returning from the Kitchen area of the Compound. Before you have time to think, your mouth opens up to release your next statement, “Hey, Nat. Would you like to watch a movie or something? This episode is nearly done and I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet.” You attempt to place the reasonings behind your question on yourself, hoping that if there is something Natasha wants to talk about, that she will feel comfortable enough to do so if she feels as though you invited her to hang out with yourself; rather than her having to ask.

Natasha stops her movements at your words, a flood of relief building up inside herself at your question. She desperately wanted to ask you herself, but the nipping feeling of guilt from intrusion of your alone time played on her mind so much so that she was too afraid to stay in your company.

As the overwhelming emotion of reassurance takes over Natasha, she chooses to nod at your question; failing to hide the string of grateful tears that line her exhausted eyes and knowing a waver in her voice would give away her fear of the night.

When Natasha moves to round the couch, she can’t help but smile at your effort to clear the perfect space for her to join you.

You instantly begin a clear down of the area, removing stray pieces of popcorn that somehow fell from your grasp during your Cupcake Wars marathon. You move to straighten up the charcoal tinted pillows; fluffing them up to mimic a comforting environment for Natasha to settle in to.

Once you look over your work and determine the couch to be satisfactory for Natasha, you dramatically wave for her to sit down. To which she does with an eye roll and a laugh.

As you reach for the TV remote and settle into your previous spot on the couch, Natasha sets her cup of water on the coffee table, waiting for you to choose the perfect movie for the two of you to watch together.

Though to her surprise, you stretch your arm out towards her, handing her the remote for control of the TV.

Natasha quirks a curious eyebrow at your gesture, “Y/n, what are you doing?”

You match her curious look at her question, “I want you to choose what we watch, Nat. Pick anything, I don’t mind.” You say with a comforting smile of reassurance.

Natasha hesitantly removes the remote from your outstretched hand, studying the array of buttons decorating it, “Are you sure? This is your time to-“

You interrupt Natasha, remembering the countless times she has been refused a choice on movie night, due to Tony’s unfair system of choosing the designated movie of the night- somehow it always ends up being one of his favourites…

“Natasha, I am more than positive that I want you to choose. Plus, this is our shared time to hang out, pick anything you would like.”

Natasha stares at you for a moment longer, attempting to detect a hint of change in your answer. When she realises you’re serious in your offer, she uses the the button to scroll through endless amounts of movie titles that all blend into a colourful blur after a minute or two.

That is until her eyes land on one of her comfort movies- Moonraker.

She allows the remote’s cursor to hover over the poster assigned to the James Bond movie on the list available, determining her options on how to approach asking you if this was an acceptable choice.

You soon notice the longing of the highlighted movie choice on the screen and the conflicted features crossing Natasha’s face as she has her own mental battle.

You turn yourself to gather Natasha’s attention, “Hey, is this the movie you want to watch?” You gently ask, trying not to push her in any way.

Natasha fidgets with the remote in her hands as she ponders a response, “Yeah, it’s a comfort movie. Is that okay?” She asks you calculatedly, worried you’ll reject the idea.

You reach over the back of the couch for a blanket left behind from a previous movie night, styling it out to cover yourself, “Of course it is, I’d love to watch it with you Natasha. Put it on,” You say as you tap the open space next you, alongside a lift of the blanket, intended to cover Natasha with.

Natasha wastes no time in pressing play to start the movie as she slides across the couch and into your embrace. What may seem as a small gesture to you, is a relieving gesture for Natasha.

Not only have you granted her the comfort of her go to movie of all time, but embracing her in a warm manner heightens the idea of Natasha being truly safe within the Compound.

As the two of you snuggle into the couch in anticipation of watching the movie; all the previous, dark thoughts from earlier in the night have evaded Natasha’s mind completely.

Hopefully it remains that way.

——-

Just as the final scene of the movie commences; the end credits begin to roll out on the screen, signifying the end of the action-packed sequence.

Natasha continues to watch the screen in a dazed state, happily losing herself within the familiar scenes of Moonraker.

However, she comes back to her senses once she feels you stretch your body out from beneath her, having cuddled up to you closer and closer as the movie has played.

You quickly finish stretching your arms and legs out, you take a moment to glance at your watch and release a low whistle at the time illuminating your watch face, “Wow, 4 am already? Shit, sorry Nat, I didn’t mean to keep you up so long.” You start to push yourself up from the cushioned layer of the couch, signalling for Natasha to move up also.

As she discards the blanket aside, a wave of uneasiness settles within her. She doesn’t want to go back to bed now, she dreads to think of what horrors await her in her dreams once she closes her eyes again. She was beginning to feel safe in your company, but now you’re readying yourself to go to bed, she’s terrified that you’ll leave her alone with her thoughts.

With her endless thoughts of torment, she stares at the now blank TV in thought. You notice her vacant expression, allowing you to kneel down in front of her and gently place your hands on her knees.

Natasha jumps slightly at your touch, however she soon places her hands on top of yours to signal that your comforting efforts are welcome, “Natasha, are you ready to head back to bed?” You ask cautiously, remaining ignorant to the issue at hand.

Natasha rubs her soft hands across the delicate skin of yours as she goes to speak, “You know, we’ve still got a bit of time to hang out before the others get up. We could try some of that new tea brand Tony bought as a trial for the Team; we could watch another movie, there’s plenty of James Bond movies for you to catch up on-“

Your eyes scan Natasha’s face as she rambles out endless ways in which the two of you should stay up for a little bit longer, “Natasha-“

Natasha shakes her head as she continues her plea, desperate for you to agree with her and stay up, “Oh, I could show you how to do those Dutch braids you like in your hair. You’re always saying how much you want to learn-“

“Natasha!”

The raise in your voice throws Natasha out of her rant, unwillingly sending a pang of fear into her chest.

As you recognise the disheartening features spreading across Natasha’s persona, you make an effort to rub reassuring circles on her arms, encouraging her to relax, “What’s going on? Why are you so adamant for us to stay up?”

Natasha fails to conceal the tears that line her eyes once again, frustration making itself known, “I can’t tell you, you’ll think I’m being ridiculous.” She whispers out, not caring that you’re seeing her in what she’d consider a weakened state.

You move to sit next to her closely, wrapping a protective arm around her, “Natasha, I could never think you’re ridiculous. You’re the strongest person I know, and if something is upsetting you this much- to the point where you don’t want me to go to bed, then I want to do everything in my power to help you. I promise you, I won’t judge you, I just want to help.”

Natasha allows her tears of despair to run down her face as she looks at you, understanding the sincerity of your words. She chooses to confide in you, “Ever since I could remember, I’ve had the most horrific dreams from my time in the Red Room, and even from certain Missions. They feel so real, I hear the pain from past victims of my actions; the drilling voices of those who kept me in the Red Room and made me what I am today-“

You give Natasha the room to talk, hating the fact you didn’t pick up on her suffering sooner- though this is Natasha Romanoff, when she wants to hide something, she does so without a trace.

“Usually when I wake up, everyone else is asleep so I just wait until someone else wakes up and pretend I got up early to train or something. No one ever notices, I hide it well, just like I’ve been taught to all these years. Then tonight, you were here, and I just felt safe and secure, you just know how to make me feel calm and appreciated. I’m sorry for putting this on you y/n, I just wanted to feel safe.”

You turn away briefly from Natasha to hide your own tears upon hearing her pain, with one deep breath you move to rest your forehead on top of Natasha’s fiery red locks, “Natasha, you’re not putting anything on me okay. I mean it when I say I want to do everything in my power to make you feel safe. I understand why you wanted to stay up longer, but do you think if we go to bed in my room or something, you might feel safe enough to sleep?”

Natasha slowly lifts her head up from under yours to catch your gaze, “You’d do that for me?”

You instantly nod, “Of course I will, I’ll do anything for you Natasha.”

Natasha bites her lip at your words, never having believed she could be so lucky to have someone like you in her life, “Thank you y/n. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

You pick yourself up from the couch and hold a supportive hand out to Natasha, which she gladly takes. Once you have switched all the necessary devices off in the living area and kitchen, you guide Natasha to your bedroom, “I think I do, but you’re still going to teach me how to braid my hair right?” You question Natasha, earning a light chuckle from her.

“I suppose I can look over my very busy schedule and fit you in somewhere.” Natasha lets out, allowing the anxieties of the night to vacate her mind.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of room in your schedule for your favourite person.” You reply, mindlessly following the corridors to your designated area of the compound.

Once you arrive at your door, Natasha raises a tired yet questioning brow, “Who said you were my favourite?”

You give her a light shrug, “I just know you can’t argue with logic.”

Natasha smirks as she moves into your room, noticing the minor details scattered across the area that makes the room entirely yours, once you move to switch your bedside lamp on to highlight the features more.

Natasha stands in the middle of the room, hesitant to move anywhere without your word.

You make quick work of straightening out your bed for Natasha; hiding any loose items that are long overdue their clean up as you refuse to admit the last time your room had a good clean out.

“Okay, the bed is ready for you. I’ll take the couch-“

Natasha frowns at your words, “We’re not sharing?”

You stop your actions as you attempt to make the couch into a makeshift bed for the night, “I don’t mind taking the couch honestly, it’s… comfy.” You say in an unconvincing tone, earning an eye roll from Natasha.

“Come on, we can share the bed, I don’t bite.” Natasha says as she eagerly settles into your soft and comforting sheets.

You silently release a breath of relief, having saved your back from a rough night of sleep on the outdated couch lumbered in your room.

Once you switch off your light, you easily slide into the other side of the bed, next to Natasha. Allowing your body to relax itself into your heavenly, cushioned mattress.

Assuming the sudden silence was reserved for sleeping, you close your eyes and bask in your comforting surroundings. Until a voice fills the hushed atmosphere, “Are you still awake?”

You release a relaxed breath as you go to reply, “Yeah, are you?”

Natasha releases a laugh from beside you, “Who do you think asked you doofus.” Natasha teases.

You roll on your side to face Natasha, using the minor elements of moonlight seeping through your blinds to study Natasha’s magnificent features, “Well J.A.R.V.I.S is quite the conversationalist at night, so pardon me for being curious to whom I am addressing Romanoff.” You say in the most serious tone you can muster- extremely low severity.

Natasha smiles brightly at your lightheartedness, “Sometimes I do wonder about you y/l/n.”

You tilt your head in challenge at Natasha’s words, “Oh yeah? What do you wonder about Nat?”

Natasha’s features fall into a stoic nature as she thinks of what to say, “I wonder how someone as loving and caring as you, would willingly want to hang around with someone like me?”

Your body shifts in discomfort at her words, sensing a tone of insecurity, “Someone like you? That’s not a bad thing Natasha.”

Natasha nods at your words, “It is, y/n, I know how people see me. Some ruthless monster who’s only worth is that of being a product of the Red Room. An assassin, produced to kill without fear or hesitation-“

You abruptly push yourself up to study Natasha in disbelief, “Natasha, that’s your nightmares talking. The Natasha I know, the real Natasha is so kind, considerate and incredible. You never fail to care for those around you. Hell, I bet you’ve saved more lives being an Avenger, than lives you were forced to take under the Red Room. Natasha you’re worth so much more than a brand under the Red Room.”

Natasha looks away from you as you continue your truths, having only her nightmares confirm her greatest fears.

“Natasha, you do realise none of the past was your fault. The Red Room took you, melted your mind and melded it into something cruel. It wasn’t your fault they did that to you and it certainly isn’t your fault that they controlled you to a point where you weren’t even of a conscious mind to understand the consequences of the actions they ordered you to do.”

You gently cup Natasha’s face and instantly swipe away a pained tear escaping her eye, “You’re not a monster, you’re a hero- my hero. Nat, you inspire me to be the best Avenger I can be. You inspire so many people around the world to protect others and do what is right. If I ever hear anyone saying anything different, I’ll kick their ass.” You add for good measure, earning a dry chuckle from Natasha.

“You’re not part of the Red Room, you’re Natasha Romanoff- Avenger, Hero and quite honestly the best thing this Planet has ever given us-“

Your words of wisdom are cut off once Natasha attaches her lips to yours, fulfilling every ounce of gratitude into one delicate and addictive kiss.

As Natasha slowly pulls away, she can’t help but bite her lip in amusement at your dazed features, “You can breathe you know y/n.”

You blink extremely slowly as your mind is sent into a frenzy of pure happiness, “Um, what were we talking about?” You suddenly ask, not knowing what else to do under the current circumstances.

Natasha pulls you down onto the bed as she moves to rest her head on your chest- its rightful space, “I’m pretty sure we were talking about how you’re my favourite person?” Natasha playfully adds.

You nod along as you pull Natasha closer towards you, “Hmm, that does sound accurate.”

With a quick mumble of ‘dork’ from Natasha, the two of you settle down for a night of slumber. Finding safety and security in each other’s arms.

——-

Soft, delicate finger tipped brushes against your rib cage wake you up from your relaxed slumber.

As your eyes flutter open, they meet ethereal green irises as they study your sleepy state.

Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, allowing you to release a sigh of content at the comforting gesture, “Good morning, y/n/n.”

You sleepily smile at the sound of Natasha’s raspy voice, never failing to have your heart fluttering in excitement, “Good morning Nat, how did you sleep?” You nervously ask, hoping with every ounce of your being that she was able to rest after her nightmares.

Natasha initially responds with a glamorous smile, allowing you to replicate it to the same effect, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve had in over ten years.” She giddily lets out.

You pull her into your embrace, “No nightmares?”

Natasha nods to confirm, “No nightmares.”

You place an ecstatic kiss on the crown of her head, over the moon with the possibility that Natasha may be able to escape her nightmares.

“You know, maybe we should make this sleepover thing a permanent thing?” You ask sleepily.

Natasha hums at your words, “Well, I don’t see why not. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

You laugh at Natasha's choice of comfort, “What about the person you’re currently cuddling?”

Natasha shrugs lightly, “I suppose they’re okay, the cuddles are a bonus.”

You smile at her words, “Well maybe I’ll have to deduct the cuddle clause from the agreement.”

Natasha tightens her grip on your body impossibly tight, “Try it and you’ll see why they say my Widow Bite Stings pack a nasty punch.”

“Oh well, we wouldn’t want to test that out.”

“Nope.” Natasha replies as she settles back into your embrace.

You allow a few seconds to pass before you bring up your next question, “What if-“

“No.” Natasha says with a flick of her fingers delivered to your forehead, eager to have you sleep in a little bit longer.

It’s safe to say that Natasha Romanoff is most definitely your favourite person.

—————————

Taglist: @beefromanoff

#natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #black widow #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fan fic #slightly smarter nat’s writing #slightly smarter nat #slightly smarter nat’s requests #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha x reader #anon request #black widow x reader #avenger reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic

[dbnightingale24]

My Little Decoy

A StevexReaderxBucky Messy Triangle

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Another story for Patreon! So, for this one, I'm a bit anxious (when am I not?), because this definitely took off in the complete opposite direction of what I initially planned. That being said, I hope you all enjoy it!

Thank you as always to @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard, I love you to bits for literally everything you do! I was in the middle of updating three other stories when this idea came to me, so please just work with me! (I'm so sorry I'm like this.)

Anywho, here we go!

Word Count: 34,776 (I'm not even gonna apologize anymore)

Warnings: Honestly, this entire fucking story. SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY), Threesome, Lying, Infidelity, Emotional Cheating, Swearing, Drinking, Infertility, Family Drama, Angst, Lusting, Daddy Kink, Running Away, Tie Play, Cuff Play, Crying, Fluff, Best friends to lovers...that's all I can think of? They're honestly so many.

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: Don't Look So Blue, You Should've Seen Right Thru, I'm Using You, My Little Decoy

Summary: You truly do have the best intentions when you try to move on and suppress your feelings for your best friend Steve, and try to move on with Bucky. Unfortunately, life doesn't give a damn about intentions. Neither does love.

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I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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You wonder how the hell it got to this point in the first place as you lay in Steve’s soft bed sheets. What feels like it should be a quiet moment of peace is juxtaposed with your current reality; Bucky pounding on the front door and you and Steve conspiring to think of some kind- any kind- of excuse.

You truly don’t understand how it got to this. 

It all feels like it started so long ago. You didn’t even know 6 years could feel so fast, much less pass so quickly. You look around at where you are now, at Steve, as you listen to the shaking of the front door against Bucky’s fist as he continues thumping away. Fuck. What if memories lie? Maybe it is that long ago.

~~

6 Years Earlier...

“Babe, you ever had a night out in the city?” Bucky asked as you took off your gear.

Training was brutal and everyone was looking for a way to relieve stress. You knew The Avengers were all planning to meet up at some club downtown, but you had other plans. 

“I have, and as much fun as it can be, I have other plans,” you laugh as you take your hair out of the tightest ponytail you’d ever had it in. 

“Oh? What are you getting into?” Natasha laughs, making her way over with Bruce holding onto her as if he’d lose her.

“My friend’s band is playing tonight. I promised her I’d go if we finished up early enough.”

“Oh, this I gotta see!” Bruce chimes in as you laugh and shake your head. “You never let us have a peak into your personal life!”

“God, I haven’t been to a show in forever,” Natasha chimes in with raised eyebrows.

He wasn’t wrong. You played everything so close to the chest; wanting to keep those you love and care for the most safe...wanting to keep yourself safe. Since none of them were relenting (not to mention they’re the damn Avengers), you finally agreed and told them to meet you outside of your room at the compound in about two hours.

“Is it too late for me to get in on this?” Steve asks just as the group was about to disperse.

“There you are!” Bucky interjects before anyone has a chance to say anything. “Y/N is giving us a peak into her personal life! We’re all meeting at her place in two hours and going from there,” he laughs patting his best friend on the back. 

Steve looked at you with a cocked eyebrow and you just laugh and nod, giving him the ‘OK’ to tag along. Unbeknownst to the others, you and Steve hung out the most. No, he’d never been privy to your personal life, but you two spent a lot of time watching movies and listening to music together on the weekends. Occasionally, Bucky would get in on the action, but it was mainly you and Steve. You and Steve had a certain level of comfort that you didn’t have with the rest of them. It was more of an unspoken, private thing and that’s how the both of you preferred it. You both understood each other, and neither of you ever made the other feel sad or out of place for things that had gone wrong in each other’s past. You both had wounds you were still healing from, and you gave each other the space needed for that to happen. 

You’d always had a thing for Steve. He kept himself at a distance, so it was difficult for you to tell if he ever felt the same. After a while, you’d stopped trying and just accepted him as a friend. He told you that he’d wanted to go back and stay with Peggy, but he was too afraid to leave Bucky on his own again, so he’d come back instead. He wasn’t even sure if Bucky would ever be okay with being alone; Steve just stayed without asking him. It seemed like the right thing to do, and he didn’t hate the current timeline too much.

Soon enough, everyone is in your small little complex, drinking and laughing as you put together the last bit of your outfit. The thought of Steve joining all of you had you more anxious than you cared to admit, so you chalked it up to the normal anxiety of inviting your work colleagues into your personal life.

Which was more than fair.

“I’m sure you look amazing, lets go! I’m too excited for this!” Natasha hollers as she makes her way into your bedroom.

“Nat!”

“Oh, they’re all in there drinking away! You’re fine,” she laughs, closing the door behind her. “Well shit!”

“I swear to God, I’ll change right now!”

“No! You look amazing!” she promised as her hands covered her mouth. “None of us have ever seen you out of work clothes, and babe...you look amazing,” she laughs in shock. 

“Should I change? I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea-”

“If you’re comfortable, who cares. No one wants to interfere with your personal life. I think we’re all more afraid of pushing you away,” she laughs.

“You really think it’s okay?”

“I mean, I think you’re hot as fuck,” she laughed as you rolled your eyes, “but I think you look amazing.”

“You sure?”

“Get enough alcohol in them , they won’t even notice when you leave for the bathroom,” she laughed.

Even though you laughed along with her, you knew better. James Buchanan Barnes kept his attention on you almost as well as Steve, but you never thought anything of it. It always had a more platonic feeling than with Steve, almost more familial.   

When you came out, Steve was the first to look at you. His mouth slightly agape was enough to make you wanna go back, but Bucky was quick to chime in-

“Someone is ready for a night out,” he laughed.

That’s all it took. 

Soon enough, you were taking shots and laughing with everyone else. Even Pepper and Tony were excited and joined you all. Your life was something so foreign to them, and you could tell that they all felt extremely excited that you trusted them enough. 

In all honesty, you felt more comfortable because Steve was there. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you, and you’d never let anything happen to him. If you were being completely honest, you’d only wanted to invite him out. How it spiraled, you’re still not sure but it did. It The only thing that felt off was letting him see you dressed as you were. It was weird for all of them to see you dressed as you were, but Steve couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You were in red plaid crop top, with tight fighting black jeans that hugged your hips in just the right way, and black low top heels. You put your hair in loose curls, and finished it off with eyeliner and mascara. After a brutal day of training, you really didn’t wanna spend forever doing your makeup, because you knew you’d wanna come home after everything was over and go right back to sleep. Yeah, everything was hugging your body in just the right way, but you weren’t about to change. 

You were introducing them to your life.

Before you all left, Thor filled three flasks with his mead from Asgard for himself, Steve, and Bucky and you laughed pretty damn hard.

“We wanna enjoy this night too,” he winked at you as you rolled your eyes. 

The walk was easy enough, but it felt like it took forever. People kept asking for pictures with the OG Avengers, they had a million questions, and of course they were all happy to be as kind as possible. It’s not that you minded all that much, but you really missed your best friend. Work had been kicking your ass, she had been extremely busy, and was in the middle of planning her wedding. Nights off were extremely rare, but actually getting to see her and her friends perform? It had been forever.

“You made it!” she squealed once you were finally inside the club with everyone, almost knocking you over with how hard she hugged you.

“I told you I’d show! Even if I would’ve only caught the last song,” you laughed as you hugged her back just as tight. “We still on for drinks after?”

“Fuck yes! Your tits look amazing in this top, we’re definitely getting free drinks out of it,” she beamed with a wink and you burst out laughing. “Okay, I’ve seen all of you on TV, but I still wanna officially meet everyone,” she smiled at everyone. “I’m Meg.”

As everyone went around introduced themselves, you made your way to the bar, to grab your signature Jack and Coke.

“Hell yes! You made it!” Meg’s finance, Paul, beamed as he made your drink.

“Why is everyone so shocked that I’m here?!”

“You haven’t been to a show in years!”

“Blah, blah, blah,” you muttered as you reached behind the bar and grabbed his pack of cigarettes.

“You bring the Avengers with you and you dare to steal from me?” he sneered sarcastically as he handed you your drink.

You laughed as you reached across the bar and kissed his cheek, “I’m sure our friendship will survive it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Dude, I had no idea the place would be so packed tonight.”

“I have a feeling everyone here had a long ass Friday.” “Yeah, well they better treat my baby right.” “You two!”

He rolled his eyes as he flipped you off, “enjoy the show!”

“Thank you, Paaauuullll,” you sang out as everyone joined you.

You looked up to see Steve staring at you intently, and he quickly turned towards the stage when he realized he was caught. Before you could allow yourself to think on it or feel flattered, you heard your best friend yell from the stage as she started to make her guitar scream.

“We’re ‘Flowers of Cinnamon’, and thanks for spending your Friday night with us!”

From that moment on, you were barely paying attention to your surroundings. With the exception of your drink, you didn’t focus on anything other than your best friend rocking the fuck out. It had always just been a hobby for her, but she had always been so damn good at it. You envied how effortlessly performing came to her. The band was a cross between Paramore, The Bangles, and All Time Low, and they were just as amazing as you remembered. You wouldn’t have been able to stay still even if you’d wanted to. You sang and danced along to every song, bouncing around, and screaming your head off. You had no clue that Steve had been watching you with the biggest grin on his face, Bucky had been watching your chest bounce up and down, or that Tony had been recording your reaction to your best friend’s music, smiling so hard at your happiness.

Every other song, your best friend made eye contact with you and laughed, and nothing else seemed to matter. Thinking back on it, you wished it had, because maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so fucked up, but you were just so damn happy. The more drinks got, the more you danced and sang around, finally feeling comfortable and happy, even with your new set of friends watching you.

“Okay, this is gonna be our last song for the night,” Meg smiled into the microphone and she laughed at amount of “boos” they received. “Listen, I wanna get fucked up too!” she joked, gaining laughs from the crowd. “Okay, so tonight is extremely special because my best friend on the entire planet is here and brought her friends with her! Thanks babe! So, our last song is gonna be a cover of one of her favorite songs ever,” she winked at you as you cocked an eyebrow.

As soon as you heard the first cord of ‘Decoy’ by Paramore hum out of the speakers, you screamed so loud that everyone in your group (and Paul) started laughing. 

‘Close your eyes and make believe that this is where you wanna be

Forgetting all the memories, try to forget love cause love’s forgotten me

Well hey, hey baby, it’s never too late

Pretty soon you won’t remember a thing

All I’ll be distant, the stars reminiscing

Your heart’s been wasted on me’

You sang along so effortlessly as you started to jump up and down.

‘You’ve never been so used as I’m using you, abusing you

My little decoy

Don’t look so blue, you should’ve seen right through

I’m using you, my little decoy

My little decoy’

You linked arms with Nat, who clearly didn’t know the song, but was more than happy to sing and dance along with you. You glanced around and it made you so happy to see everyone else happy and having a good time. It’s not like you were a stick in the mud at work but, you never let loose. Even when it came to holiday and birthday parties, you were pretty damn reserved. The only person who can claim that they’ve seen you fucked up is Steve, and even then it was just you being wine drunk on the sofa while you two listened to albums and discussed work.

No, this was you letting lose and everyone accepting it. Accepting you. You looked over at Steve and he a look of pure love and adoration in his eyes, and it made your heart swell. 

God, you wished you would’ve paid more attention to the way both he and Bucky looked at you that night, but you were just so damn happy and having so much fun.

If you could turn back time...

“Am I still okay at singing?” Meg asked once she finally made her way over to all of you.

“Dude, you’re still fucking amazing!” you beamed as you wrapped her in a tight hug and she laughed. “That was so good! Thank you for playing ‘Decoy’, almost making me cry!”

“Aha!” she teased before she looked at everyone else. “What about Earth’s mightiest heroes? Were you all able to tolerate it?”

“That was amazing,” Tony laughed, Pepper nodding in agreement.

“Why don’t you do this full time?” Nat asked as you waived Paul down and got another drink for both you and Meg.

“If I did this full time, I’d be so stressed all the damn time,” Meg laughed, “I’m much happier painting.”

“What do you paint? Do you have a studio?” Clint inquired and a smile came to your face.

Things were going better than you could have ever imagined. 

As everyone got acquainted, you snuck to have a smoke. A few moments later, a smile came to your face when you saw Steve come out after you.

“You said you’re quitting those,” he nodded towards the cigarette in your hand. 

“I stole Paul’s,” you laughed, standing a little further from him so as to not get the smoke in his face. 

“I can handle it,” he laughed as he placed his black leather jacket on you. “You’re pretty...exposed and I don’t want you getting cold.”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest man?” you teased before you inhaled your cancer stick. “Who else knows about this? I’ll call the ‘New York Times’” He snickered as he shook his head, “quiet you.”

“Are you having fun tonight?”

“I am, I like you seeing like this.”

You scoffed, “crazy?” “Happy...content. Secure.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, and the look he gave you along with it, had butterflies appearing in your stomach.

“We should get back inside,” you smiled at up at him as you ashed the last of your cigarette and threw it in the nearby trash bin. 

And maybe that’s when it started.

You just missed all the signs that night, because you were convinced Steve didn’t want you.

He convinced you he didn’t want you. 

When the two of you got back inside, Paul had just finished up his shift and the guys had finished helping Meg back up her equipment which she had decided to lock up in the manager’s office for the night. 

“Dancing! We need dancing!” she whined once her eyes landed on you.

“Hell yeah we do,” you laughed as you linked arms with both her and Nat.

Once again, you didn’t notice the way Bucky ogled you or the way Steve kept a close eye on you. When you all reached the next bar, you instantly ordered more drinks and pulled Nat and Meg onto the dance floor with you, still wearing Steve’s coat. He leaned against the bar, talking with Tony and Pepper, but still kept an eye on you. As Janet Jackson’s voiced filled the giant building, you danced around with the biggest smile on your face (at some point Meg had put her sunglasses on your face), smiling and waiving at Bucky when you saw his eyes glued to you.

Well, glues to your ass.

By the time everyone was ready to call it a night, you were drunk as shit.

“You’re not coming back to the compound?” Nat asked as she stumbled out after you.

“Nah, I wanna sleep in my own space tonight. It’s closer,” you giggled as you started giving out hugs.

“I can take you,” Bucky offered with a slick grin.

“I can take her, she’s on the way to my house,” Steve countered, and Meg cocked an eyebrow at you.

You just started dancing and walking. 

“Goodnight everyone! Get home safe! I love you all!”

You were drunk, tired, and in no mood to figure out whatever that was about. You just wanted to go home and get in your bed. You honestly don’t know why you didn’t go back to the compound that night, but it just felt right to go to your own home. You already spent so little time there to begin with. A few moments later, you heard the hurried footsteps of someone behind you, but you kept looking ahead.

“You’re impatient when you’re drunk,” Steve laughed as he came up beside you.

A small smile came to your face at the fact that Steve was the one to walk you home.

You giggled as you leaned into him, “my feet hurt.”

No sooner than you said it, he scooped you up.

“Steve!”

“You weigh nothing, don’t worry about it, darlin.” “It’s a 30 minute walk!” 

“I’m very well aware of where your apartment is.” “Steve-”

“Hush.”

You pouted but did as you were told, leaned into him, and took in the scent that was all his own. Something between woodsy and fresh cut grass. In your drunken state, he felt like home.

“Why didn’t you want Bucky to take me home?” you asked after a few moments, not missing the way he stiffened a bit.

“He’s a little buzzed and he gets a little handsy and flirty at times. I didn’t want him to bother you.” You giggled as you took in more of his scent, “you’re literally carrying me, Steve.” “You said your feet hurt.” “Are you a little buzzed?”

“I definitely don’t feel sober,” he chuckled softly and you softly sighed at the comfort of rumble in his chest.

“Do you wanna sleepover?”

“I’ll order a car service once I drop you off.”

“Why not order one now?”

“It was weird...everyone hanging out tonight. I feel like we haven’t hung out alone together in a while.” “Then why not sleepover?”

“Cause I should go home. I don’t wanna accidentally wake you up or something. You worked hard today and you need rest.” “So did you.” “Y/N.” “You’re so weird sometimes, Steve,” you huffed as you laced your hand with his.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand like I’ve done a million times before. What’s wrong?” “Nothing.”

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, “alright weirdo.” “I’m not being weird.”

“You’re not being normal.”

He let out a frustrated huff, “did you have fun tonight?”

“So much fun, I’m so happy you came out.”

“I’ve missed you, darlin.” “I’ve missed you too. Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Sleepover.”

“Y/N-” “See? You are being weird. You’ve slept over my place a ton before, in my bed, and it wasn’t weird. What’s so different about tonight?”

He muttered, “so many things.” “Like what?”

“It’s just been a long night.”

“Fine, whatever. Go home, see if I give a fuck.” “Hey!”

“You’re being weird and you won’t tell me why. You know I hate when you do that shit.”

“I just think I should sleep in my own bed, darlin’. I’m not trying to be weird or make you upset.”

He sounded so strained and you couldn’t read his facial expression, so you couldn’t see how torn up he was. You couldn’t tell how much he was at war with himself.

You couldn’t tell how much he wanted you.

He chuckled when you didn’t say anything, “don’t get quiet on me now.”

“Can you at least stay until I fall asleep? It won’t take long.” “Everything okay, darlin’?”

“Yeah Steve, I just miss you,” you confessed softly. 

“We’ll do a sleepover tomorrow, alright? We’ll have it at my house.” “Fine.” “Don’t be upset.” “I don’t care.” “You’re also a giant brat when you’re drunk.” “You’re saying that you miss me, but won’t spend time with me!”

God, you sounded like a brat to your own ears. That was a huge part as to why you’d never let him see you so inebriated. It’s why you never wanted anyone from The Avengers (or S.H.I.E.L.D for that matter) to see you so drunk. It became harder for you to suppress your feelings for Steve, and he’s all you wanted when you were drunk. For reasons unknown to you (at the time), Steve wanted to go home. That should’ve been enough, but your drunk wanted to hold him all night. 

You were going out of your way to start an argument. 

He let out a heavy sigh as he reached your complex, “I’ll stay-”

“Don’t do me any fucking favors-” “Will stop arguing with me? And stop with swearing, you know I hate it.” “Well maybe I hate you.”

He scoffed hard at that, “no you don’t.”

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes I do, so stop saying it. I’ll stay, okay?”

“And you’ll sleep next to me?”

“Yes darlin’, I will sleep next to you.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck and you felt his grip on you get tighter, “thank you, Steve!”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

That night, he was good to his word and slept next to you, letting use his chest as a pillow and you were asleep almost instantly. The next day, he was back to normal and you didn’t think anything of his behavior from the previous night. You had no reason to. However, from that day on, things did slowly start to change more. 

It started with Bucky coming around more, especially when Steve was with you. You couldn’t sense it, because has always been entirely too good at hiding his emotions, but he slowly became frustrated. So much that he basically stopped coming around all together. 

“Hey, are you busy?” you asked timidly as you approached his office one day.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” “Oh...okay then-”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, you’re busy and I don’t wanna take up your time...”

You could feel your eyes welling up and didn’t know why. Steve always had a way of making you so damn soft and vulnerable, and you truly hated it.

You still hate it. 

“Darlin’-” “Please stop calling me that. The guy who started calling me that doesn’t seem to exist anymore. If he does, he’s making sure to stay away from me.”

“He still exists-” “Then what’s going on? Why are you staying away from me?”

He sighed as he threw down his pen, “nothing-”

“Alright, if you’re just gonna lie to me-” “I’m not lying!”

“Steve, you saw me walking with Bucky yesterday and literally turned in the other direction and walked away.” “You guys are just hanging out a lot now and I don’t wanna third wheel-” “You wouldn’t third wheeling! We’re just friends!”

“Y/N...” “Steve, why are you just abandoning me? You’re the one I’m closest to and you know that. You’ve always known that,” you sobbed as you closed the door behind you.

“Please don’t cry-” “Then why are you abandoning me?! What did I do wrong?!”

“Nothing-”

“Then what the fuck?! You’ve been acting so strange, but you’re saying I haven’t done anything! If I didn’t do anything, what the fuck is going on with you?!”

He let out another frustrated sigh and just stared at you, clearly at war with himself.

“Fuck this and fuck you, I give up,” you sobbed as you dried your eyes. 

“Darlin’”

“Stop calling me that! I’m just Y/N and you’re just Steve. I can’t do this with you anymore!”

After you stormed out, things only got worse, because you’d never felt so low and alone in your life. Unless it had to do with a mission or training, you barely even looked his way. The farther you got away from Steve, the more Bucky swooped in. In fact, the more you look at how everything happened, you realize that things wouldn’t have gotten so bad if you’d just shut things down with the both of them. 

However, it’s not as if thinking with a broken heart ever lead to a good thing. 

You cried a lot and Bucky was just there for you. He was sweet, he listened, and let you keep your secrets. Sure, he asked what happened between you and Steve (everyone was), but he dropped it when you told him you wouldn’t be talking about it.

You can’t explain what you don’t know. 

“Hey doll, we’re goin’ out tonight. You wanna come? Invite Meg!” Bucky asked one night after you let him in your apartment on the compound.

“Nah, I’ve got a hot date with a black and white French film and a few glasses of wine,” you smiled weakly.

“You can’t stay in here forever.”

“I don’t. Sometimes I go home.” “Babe-”

“I just wanna stay in, Buck,” you sighed as someone else knocked on your door. “I guess I’m just the most popular girl in the world.”

When you opened it the second time, Steve stood there looking just as upset as you felt. Instead of even trying to attempt to hear him out, a rage flared up inside you and you had to force yourself to not shove him. As far as you were concerned, he had a lot of fucking nerve to show up at your place after all the shit that happened in his office. 

“What?”

“I wanted to know if you’re coming out tonight-”

“No.”

“Well, can I come in and we can talk? I know I owe you an explanation-”

“I don’t want an explanation anymore, Steve,” you lied harshly, “I just want you to leave me alone. I stood in your office and cried like a fucking dumbass...that was a month ago. Now you wanna talk? Just leave things as they are.”

You truly wish you hadn’t spoken out of anger because none of it was true. You cried over him whenever you were alone, you missed hanging out with him, you missed falling asleep next to him...you missed Steve. Your Steve.

You’ve always been a hot head. 

“Darlin-” “What have I told you about that?” “Y/N, just give me a few minutes-”

“No, go away. Unless it has to do with work, we don’t have anything to talk about.” “You don’t mean that,” he more pleaded than told you.

“I’ve never meant it more!”

“Y/N-”

Bucky sighed as he came up behind you, “she just needs to cool off, Pal.”

If you hadn’t been so upset and hurt you would’ve laughed at how wide Steve’s eyes got.

“We’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“I thought you were coming out. It was your idea in the first damn place,” Steve snapped.

“I don’t wanna leave Y/N while she’s this upset. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but all that happened was he clenched his jaw and looked away before he stormed off, punching the wall on his way out.

You should’ve spoken to him. You should’ve gone after him. Instead you pushed past Bucky and made yourself your first glass of wine of the night.

“Babe-”

“Buck, if you’re gonna stay here tonight, please no lectures. I just wanna be upset, okay?”

He just nodded solemnly, “I get it. No lectures, just drinks and weird French movies,” he smirked and you quietly laughed. 

Here’s the thing: it’s not that you never found Bucky attractive, you just never thought about him. You were always thinking about Steve. However, at that time, thinking about Steve brought you too much pain and you didn’t want to feel anymore pain for a while. You just wanted to feel numb. You’d rather have nothing, the void, than hold onto the pain Steve’s brought on. 

You rested your legs on him when he sat next to you, not thinking anything of it. When he started stroking your leg after the third glass of wine, you still didn’t think anything of it. You only started to pick up on his actions when he squeezed your thigh a little.

“Buck?”

“Yeah doll?” “What are you doing?”

“Trying to help you relax and feel better.”

“Buck-”

“I’ve never seen you this upset, babe. I just wanna help.”

The thought and the offer were tempting. You couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten off to something other than your vibrator. Of course you’d made subtle advances towards Steve, but he’d clearly turned you down. Plus, the women around the compound did talk. While Bucky had a reputation for being a skirt chaser, he also had a reputation for wearing women out in the best way.

It’s not like you were looking for anything. You just wanted to forget for awhile. 

He tested the waters a bit more by sliding his hand further up your leg, waiting to see how you’d respond. 

You placed your wine glass on the ground and opened your legs for him a bit, “you just wanna make me feel better?”

“So fuckin’ good, doll,” he husked, as he reached between your legs and easily ripped your panties off, “just lay back and enjoy, baby.”

His movements were slow, but his kisses were desperate. It felt good, but off. Not to mention you felt more guilty with every kiss he gave you, like you were betraying Steve.

‘Fuck Steve,’ you told yourself mentally, ‘he had his chance and he clearly didn’t want it.’

You closed your eyes in a vain attempt to shut out any thoughts of Steve, but that only made his face come to mind. You let out a sound between a moan and a frustrated grunt as you pulled Bucky’s hair.

“Please!”

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he smirked, his hot breath lapped at your pussy.

“So fucking bad, please! Need it!”

“Love seeing you like this,” he cooed, before he dipped down and dove in and his lewd moans filled the room.

This was the moment Bucky became your “decoy”. You didn’t want him in the same way he wanted you, but part of you felt like he didn’t actually give a shit. Since he’d lost Nat to Bruce, Bucky wasn’t ever really looking for a relationship. He liked to play around, entertain a woman (or two) for a few months, then he’d move on. As far as you were concerned, that night was only supposed to be a one time thing. 

“F-fuck!” you moaned, doing your best to be in the moment as you lulled your head back while he fucked you with his tongue and massaged your clit with his thumb. “Feels so good, Buck!”

You weren’t lying completely. It’s not as if Bucky was bad at eating you out, he just wasn’t the one you wanted doing it. 

You felt him smirk against your folds, and started to grind your pussy against his face, forcing yourself to focus on all the pleasure you felt instead of everything else.

‘Steve doesn’t want you. Steve doesn’t want you. Stop thinking about Steve!’ you told yourself mentally.

When he switched up and started sucking on your clit, he easily pressed two fingers into your soaked folds. You felt the knot in your core tighten and snap.

“FUCK!” you cried out as you came hard and a few tears escaped your eyes.

You hated how the tears weren’t from pleasure, but you masked it well enough as he fucked you through your high.

“Take off that fuckin’ shirt, baby. Let me fuckin’ see you,” he husked as he took off his own shirt and started to undo his jeans. 

You were quick to do as he said, taking all of him as you ignored how uncomfortable you felt being so bare beneath him as his mouth glistened with your juices.

You were doing this to feel better, so why weren’t you feeling any better?

“Waited so fuckin’ long, baby,” he groaned as he dipped down and worshiped each of your breasts while his thumb made little circles on your clit.

“Bucky!”

“I know baby, I’m gonna take care of you, gonna take such good care of you,” he moaned before you felt his tongue on the side of your neck, licking up little beads of sweat. 

You took a deep breath and told yourself you wanted it as you felt him at your entrance. You wanted Bucky. You just needed to let yourself relax.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ tight!” he grunted as he pushed into you.

“Oh fuck!”

“I know you can take me, baby! Your wet little pussy is squeezing me so tight, baby!” “Please don’t stop,” you whimpered as you wrapped a leg around his waist, trying to hang on to him as he fucked into you hard and fast.

You wanted this. You agreed to this.

He pushed himself up with his metal arm and looked down at you adoringly, “wanted you for so long, doll. Waited for...ah fuck!”

To avoid feeling anymore guilt, you wrapped an arm around him to pull him close and kissed him passionately, moaning into his mouth when you felt him fill you to the brim. He rode out both your highs before he rested his forehead against yours.

“So good, baby. You tired?” he asked, breath still coming heavy.

You just closed your eyes and shook your head no.

“Good girl.”

Bucky kept at it for a while, not feeling any real pleasure until he brought you off (which you had to fake half the time). There was nothing wrong with him. You found him attractive, and you knew that he wanted you, but it just wasn’t what you wanted. All of it felt so hollow and emotionless on your end. You felt like you were acting and Bucky was working his ass off to please you; to make matters worse, your phone kept going off and you knew who it was.

Steve would’ve hated you if he knew what you were doing and who with, but a part of you felt like he already did. When you both were done, Bucky was a gentleman. He pulled your shirt over your head, carried you to bed, and held you close until you both fell asleep.

You didn’t cry until the next day when you woke up alone in an empty apartment. You ignored calls from both Bucky and Steve, and eventually Bucky was the only one texting you.

Something in you knew that Bucky had confirmed his suspicions, and you just knew he was furious. You and Steve both knew Bucky wasn’t a bad guy, he was just a player and Steve never wanted that for you. 

Eventually you cracked and called Meg, and cried while you told her everything. 

“Well...fuck,” she muttered once you finally got everything out. “Are you sure Steve knows?”

“His calls and texts were incessant until they weren’t. He hasn’t done either in the last 3 hours.”

“Oh yeah no, he definitely fucking knows. Bucky?”

“Bucky went from every 30 minutes to every other hour.”

“Well, what’s wrong with him?” “Nothing...”

“Except?” 

“He’s not Steve.”

“Yeah, but Steve passed up on you, and he was kind of a dick about it. He waited a month until after the office situation? You’ve been showing him your available for how many years? I know you love him, but-”

“I don’t love him.”

“Yeah, cause that’s you’re crying to me about him instead of the skirt chaser that fucked your brains out?”

“Meg.”

“I’m not being insensitive, I’m being honest. Bucky was there last night, clearly wanted you, was with you all night, and all you could think about was Steve. Today, even though Bucky is still texting you, you’re more upset that Steve isn’t because you know he knows. If I were you, I’d be more worried about the guy that’s used to fucking around breaking my heart, than the guy who isn’t,” she sighed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Steve had his chance, I need to let him go. I’ve been in my room crying all day...I have to stop.”

“Can you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Babe, if you could end up with Steve, I’d prefer that, but that’s not really an option. Even if he came back, he gave you the run around for a bit. Just focus on you for now and what you want. You always want to make others happy, and you need to focus on you.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.”

“Do you need me to come over?”

“No, being alone is good for me right now.”

“Alright, I love you, Y/N. It’s gonna be okay.”

You let out a heavy sigh as you sobbed, “I love you,” and hung up.

You ignored Bucky for the rest of the day, feeling guilty about it, but knowing it was for the best. You’d done enough wrong and you truly did need to focus on you and what you wanted.

However, before you fell asleep, you broke down and checked all your texts from Steve.

O Captain, My Captain: Darlin, please just talk to me. I’m so sorry.

O Captain, My Captain: I’m not going out tonight, please just answer me.

O Captain, My Captain: Don’t do anything with Bucky. He’s my best friend, but he’s not worthy of you. He won’t treat you right and you know that.

O Captain, My Captain: Please just answer me.

O Captain, My Captain: If I could take back my actions, I would. I’m so sorry. If you’d just talk to me, I’d be able to make you understand.

O Captain, My Captain: Please talk to me. I miss you so much.

O Captain, My Captain: I’m going to sleep, but give me a call whenever.

O Captain, My Captain: Seriously? All night and you’re still not talking to me?

O Captain, My Captain: Baby, please just talk to me. We’ve never gone this long without talking, and I fucking hate it.

O Captain, My Captain: Y/N...please.

O Captain, My Captain: Bucky just left. You’ve made yourself loud and clear, and fine. I got it.

O Captain, My Captain: Do whatever the fuck you want.

When you woke up the following day, you had the biggest headache from crying, and the last thing you felt like doing was facing either of them. You had a job to do though, and criminals didn’t stop being criminals just because you had a broken heart. Even though you were slower to dress than usual, you were still on time for training, and God, it was brutal.

Bucky kept looking at you, Steve wouldn’t even look your way, and you couldn’t focus. You’d never had a day so bad, and all you wanted was to crawl back into bed. During the meeting after, you just leaned against the wall, barely listening to anything Nick had to say. The one time you bothered to look up, you looked over at Steve and was glaring at you. 

God, you really fucking hated yourself. 

“Doll, wait up!” Bucky called after you once the meeting was over.

You’d practically run out of the room.

“Bucky, I really just want-”

“What did I do wrong?” he breathed once he caught up to you. “Everything seemed fine on Saturday, I thought we both enjoyed it.”

You didn’t miss the way Steve quietly scoffed as he walked past the both of you.

“Bucky, I just-”

“Did I hurt you? What...I really like you, Y/N. I have for a while and I just...was I too eager?”

You honestly hadn’t expected that.

“Wait...what?”

“I never said anything, because I thought you and Steve had a thing going, but that’s clearly not happening. You were just so upset on Saturday and I wanted to make you happy, and I’ve wanted you for so long...what did I do?”

Trash. You felt like absolute trash.

“I need to get to my room.” “Y/N-”

“Just...I’ll talk to you later, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I just have a lot going on in my head. I just need to be by myself for a while.”

“Please just-”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m sorry.”

~~

You can read the rest here.

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #The Avengers Fanfic #Steven Grant Rogers #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers fluff #Steve Grant Rogersxreader #love triangle #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #sebastian stan characters #Sebastian Stan Characters Fanfic #Steve RogersxReaderxBucky #fanfic writing #Fanfic Writer #Patreon #patreon artist #ao3 fanfic #support artists #bucky barns x reader #steve rogers x you

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Seldom Self-care Sickness

Prompt: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you were pretty bad at looking after yourself when It came to getting work done. So much so you made yourself sick. But your girls love you all the same.

TW: fever, Flu, non-sexual nudity, implied sexual joke (just one), slight angst, traumatic past (mentioned)

A/N i feel like all my fics are kinda the same thing… im considering opening up requests once i figure out how to…

“honey your going to get sick if you don’t take breaks. love your working yourself into the ground.” Wanda cooed. you brushed the hair from your eyes and went back to work, huffing slightly.

“your probably worse than nat, my love, take a break and we can cuddle.” Wanda tried again.

nat huffed “shes defiantly worse than me at least i take breaks every once in a while.” Wanda shot nat a glare and she went back to typing out her mission report.

you knew they were right, you hadn’t slept or eaten or even stopped to pee lately. work was all you could think about. with the last mission you went on failing you felt the need to prove yourself. after hydra you had always had issues with self worth and work ethic. mainly you didn’t feel you had any. your worked yourself to the bone until your girls picked up the pieces, which they didn’t mind, after all they loved you. you had grown up on the ideology that in order to be valuable and loved you had to earn your keep. of course even a whole year after your rescue the things they taught you were hard to shake off.

“‘m fine wands i need to get this done anyway.” you sighed when she began massaging your shoulders feeling the pent up stress you held in your neck and back. you let your eyes drift shut for a second revealing in the idea of a break before they snapped open and you went back to work. Wanda sighed heavily and retreated back to the bedc to snuggle into nat. every once in a while she shot you a sad look but you huffed and continued writing out the reports.

“baby i brought you some water for a reason. you may want to work but you do need to drink.” Wanda cooed, and you placed down the pen with a bang, emptying the glass while holding Wanda’s eyes the whole time. you wiped you hand over the back of your mouth, replaced the glass on the table and picked up the pen again. Wanda sighed knowing you had at least had some water now which she supposed was better than nothing at all.

she had just began to doze off against Nat’s thigh when a sneeze startled her awake. you grinned sheepishly and waved a hand.

“Pollen count.” you said dismissively and Wanda shot a pointed look at the closed window.

“baby-“

“I need to work.” you cut her off.

“what you really need is to rest.” nat said without looking up from her own report.

“why don’t you harass Natasha for a bit Wanda.” you huffed the room feeling uncomfortably warm.

“because i know when to stop, unlike you.” nat shot back without any malice.

Wanda sighed and began to lazily trace patterns on Nat’s thigh which shivered under her touch. slowly she began to fall asleep again. only to, once again be woken by a sneeze. followed by another three. when you had stopped Wanda raised an eyebrow. she stood up wand walked over to your desk. hands on her hips. “right thats enough, come to bed or i’ll make you, your going to get sick one way or the other now and i don’t need you to be writing nonsense with a high fever.” upon closer look she saw the slight shaking you body was doing, open betrayal.

“right.” Wanda said sounding frustrated at your lack of response. swiftly she laid the back of her palm on your forehead before you could react she tutted.

you moaned at the feeling of cool skin against your fevered face, which felt like a fire was brewing. under your skin.

Wanda’s eyes went wide “baby.” she scolded “you have a fever, no wonder you don’t feel good.” she sighed using her hand to draw the sweaty hair from your face. her fingers tangling in the knots.

nat appeared by her side. she put one hand under your knees and another on your back as she scooped you up bridal style. she was concerned at your lack of protests as she did so and shot Wanda a worried look that was quickly returned. how had you gotten sick so fast? carefully Natasha deposited you on the bed and Wanda went to find a thermometer.

Nat brushed the hair from your face and your eyes fluttered shut in content.

“honey, you need to look after yourself better” she cooed her fingers carding your hair backwards.

“alright.” Wanda said reappearing with a small thermometer. “open” she said tapping a finger on your jaw. you glared but complied.

“good girl.” Wanda said using a finger to close your still open mouth after she slipped it under your tongue.

Wanda hummed and rummaged through the cupboards to find some medicine. “just in case your fevers high we might give you some medicine or even a shower.” your eyes lit up making her chuckle

“not that kind of shower my sweet. save that for when your better.” she winked. you slumped against Nat’s shoulder.

“aww your too cute when you pout baby.” she cooed. the thermometer beeped and she carefully took it out when you faced her. holding it away from you and Nat she read off the number.

“102.7” she said frowning at it. “baby thats too high.” she sighed.

“love you go start the shower and i’ll bring her in when your ready.” nat said as if you weren’t there. which in some ways you weren’t, your eyes had taken a glossy effect as you stared into space. but at the word shower you began squirming in Nat’s lap.

“shh shhh shhh” she cooed in your ear. “it’ll be ok, Wanda and I will be with you the whole time.” you knew from past experience how much a fever shower sucked and were under no compulsion to have another. nat scooped you up as Wanda called from the bathroom, the sound of running water coming through the door. you stopped wriggling in Nat’s arms and succumbed to your torture. going limo as nat shot you a sad look as if she felt sorry for you and you began pouting again.

“shh bubs its alright”

carefully she peel off your sweat soaked clothes and passed your shaking form to Wanda who set your feel down and pulled you flush to her front.

“aww its ok my sweet.” she cooed, running her hands through your wet hair. after a few minutes the shaking was less and Wanda was satisfied you weren’t as warm anymore, they helped you out of the shower. you were still clinging to Wanda while Nat dried you off with a fluffy towel. she helped you step into a pair of fluffy pj pants and into one of Wanda’s shirts. after you were dressed Nat carried you back to the bed so Wanda could get dressed herself.

carefully she set you down and pulled the thermometer out of the draw where Wanda had stashed it earlier.

“open up bubs.” she cooed and you did so with sad eyes.

you were nestled in a mountain of pillows when Wanda remerged and you made grabby hands for her. nat was laid by one side and Wanda by the other, you placed your cheek on her thigh and after a second your eyes drifted shut.

the beep surprised you and you felt Wanda’s fingers remove the stick from your mouth. she looked down at it and sighed.

“101.2 better but still not good.” Wanda looked at Nat who gestured to you, who was half asleep and struggling to keep your eyes open against Wanda’s thigh. you would close them before opening them suddenly only to blink for a few seconds before they slide shut again.

“go to sleep my love. we’ll be here. we’ll keep you safe.” Wanda cooed as Nat ran her hands through your damp hair.

the feeling of her fingers on your scalp drew you to sleep and soon the girls smiled at the soft snores they could hear coming from their tired and sick girlfriend.

MASTERLIST

#wandanat sick #wandanat sic fic #wandanat comfort #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandanat #the avengers #marvel #natasha romanov #natasha romaoff #wanda marvel #sicfic #fan fiction #hurt/comfort #slight angst #natasha x reader #natasha comfort #polyamory #lesbian #sick reader #fluff #whump #fever #selfcare #wanda comfort #wanda x natasha #wanda mcu #natasha romonova #natasha marvel

[faithforgottens]

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆.

from the writer’s desk: i’d tell you i started this a year ago after deciding i needed closure on post - crying on newport beach about how i’m incapable of being loved but that would mean me unloading all over the dash, and nobody needs that. i’m just a girl, out here projecting like tomorrow’s not coming, and thought i’d share. please know that i love carol, i just had to pick a character that i didn’t have strong emotional attachment to in order to play my villain. motivation to continue this would be much appreciated, thnx.  summary: you’ve been stuck in carol’s web for nearly four months now, and you need a distraction before you go postal and commit a capital crime or worse, tell her you love her. fortunately for you, natasha’s willing to offer her services. contains: college!natasha x female reader —— warnings include toxic relationship dynamics that involve infidelity, gaslighting and cheating, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, nsfw content [ fingering, dirty talk ]. →  inbox status: OPEN                                        don’t repost my works anywhere.

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     am i gonna see you tonight?

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     :(

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     hellllllooooooooooo??

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     I WANNA SEE U I MISS UR PRETTY FACE

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     pls come tonight. it would mean everything to me

You’ve never claimed to be smart.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you have to fall on the opposite end of that spectrum in order to bother showing your face tonight at the behest of Carol fuckin’ Danvers. Satan. It’s the work of the goddamn devil pulling you from the clutches of your apartment’s comfortable silence where you’d be much better off riding through the nuanced gut-punching waves of disappointing Carol guilt instead of the hell storm that is being played once again by Carol guilt. You even put on eyeliner for such an occasion, because if you’re going to get fucked over (either physically, emotionally, or both), you might as well look good doing it.

Her name’s still lighting up your phone as the Uber drops you off at the curb, boasting a flood of pictures on Snapchat that illuminate the awaiting scene inside of the frat house through blurry streaks of glass bottles and marijuana smoke and the pale expanse of her neck where a glint of her gold necklace flashes is promised to you to do as you wish, leaving behind bruises or lip prints. It’s an enticing picture painted for you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think maybe tonight will be the night she tells you she’s free from the clutches of Maria, her perfectly sane girlfriend that you’ve only ever known through Carol’s jilted lens, and that she’ll even let you climb her like a tree in front of her friends.

Lucky you.

Except you do know better. In the pit of your stomach, you know the reality is that you are in closer proximity than Maria, which therefore makes you the most convenient piece of ass at Carol’s disposal, that Carol believes — and is likely right about how — you’re still wound tight enough around her finger to make you drop to your knees like a good little girl, blinded by her golden halo of hair and the whiskey-soaked taste of her lips and ready to excuse her shit treatment of you. That even feeling like you have her for the beat of a butterfly’s wings is worth your sanity. And despite it all, it isn’t enough to keep you away. It’s not enough to exile the parts of a masochistic heart beating in your chest that somehow loves her, even if the only part of you she loves is your willingness to show up for her.

Carol’s fraternity is co-ed, which means that between all of the brothers, their social circle extends to the farthest corners of the university — they consume a fair bit of your own, considering you have at least two classes a semester with Bucky, sit with them at Wanda’s softball games (mostly so you can talk shit about your high school ex that made the team), and rent study rooms at least once a month with Thor, Bruce, and Val to spiral into late night insanity while you all contemplate the meaning of life and attempt to memorize vocabulary words. You slip in through the door, bass thudding into your molars and the heavy blanket of smoke and sweat covers your bare shoulders as you weave your way through the house.

“Look who finally showed up!” Behind the counter in the kitchen is Sam Wilson, running position as makeshift bartender. You detour long enough for a vodka and Diet Coke, stopping next to the barstool that Bucky’s perched on. He tucks you underneath his arm for a side hug, other hand tipping his own solo cup back as he tries to drain the last bit of liquor down his throat.

They’re good friends to you. It’s why you hate doing this dance with Satan — because at some point, you feel that there’s going to be a tectonic shift between the two of you that dredges up a rift in the concrete and you don’t know who will be left on your side. You don’t know who you’ll be able to look in the eye and lie to about Carol, who would pick you over her. You don’t even know if any of them would believe you or would write you off as crazy as you’ve been writing yourself off as of late.

You tell yourself that you’re trying, goddammit, to shove that piece of yourself back into a locked drawer and enjoy the company of your friends.

“Anybody seen Danvers?” you pitch as nonchalantly as you know how, planting your elbows down onto the granite of the counter while you watch Sam mix your drink. He goes heavy on the vodka, which you quietly appreciate.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, we’ve seen her alright.”

“She’s in the dining room trying to rally everyone into a round of strip beer pong,” Sam explains. “Last we saw, she got her shirt stuck in the chandelier.”

“The face of class, this fraternity,” you tease as Sam hands you your drink. He can’t help but laugh, a jovial, guttural noise that makes you smile, even though your stomach is currently in your throat.

You bid them farewell and snake through the living room, trying to avoid the furniture or the bodies of other people and almost always fail in avoiding both at the same time as you carve out a path to the dining room. It’s densely packed, which forebodes the game of beer pong that the boys mentioned. You try not to cut your elbows into the bones and flesh of others to make your way through, but your adrenaline is humming at the thought of seeing Carol, the thought of her body glowing in the house lights and the cut of her physique out on display for anyone, including you, to openly ogle without abandon.

“Goddamn, Danvers!” someone yells mirthfully. “Keep it in your pants!”

Whistling down to one thought, one track, your mind lasers in and you’re positive that the sharp point of your elbow nails T’Challa directly in the ribs as you finally make it to the inner lip of the circle around the dining room table. It’s desperate. You know it’s desperate. You'll care about it later, you’re sure, but for now, all that’s on your mind is her.

“For the love of fuck, I—” Someone stumbles back into you, dark hair in frizzy waves and the bill of their baseball cap nearly jabbing straight into your nose. Wanda Maximoff spins around, her eyes lightening up at the sight of you as she grabs onto your wrist to stable herself. “Oh! Hey, babe,” she says with a smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Me either,” you tell her, trying not to be blatant as you scan for Carol. “Carol didn’t tell me until last minute.”

“Boo,” Wanda pouts, before turning to yell over her shoulder, “Danvers! Fuck you!”

“Get in line!” Carol calls back, and your head locks in on where her voice comes from. Your stomach plunges into free fall when you see her: as promised, she’s standing around in her sports bra and jeans, white teeth glinting and blonde hair curling around onto her tanned shoulders, biceps on display and her arms snaked around — her.

Maria Hill, in the flesh, pressed against Carol’s side and her chin balanced on Carol’s shoulder as Carol makes a shot one-handed that successfully lands in a cup on the opposite end of the table. Carol cheers victoriously, and Maria kisses her cheek, and you notice that Carol’s hand on Maria’s side drifts down towards her ass.

All of Carol’s messages swim inside your mind, the ones where she assures you that it’s all real, that she and Hill are done, that Hill’s holding her back, that she’s felt things for you since the moment she laid eyes on you and just knew; the ones where she paints a beautiful picture of a future with you, the same picture she’s just doused in cheap spirits and ruined for the dozenth time. Your drink suddenly tastes like arsenic, heavy and uneven in your stomach, the room shrinking and heat crawling up your neck in an uncomfortable panic. You are going to be sick.

Wanda’s voice comes through in the midst of the ringing in your ears. Fuck you, Danvers.

It takes you a moment to realize that Wanda’s voice isn’t just a reverberation inside your mind, but is right in your ear. “Hey!” She calls your name again, and you finally snap your attention back to her. She scans over your face for a moment, eyebrows folding in the center of her brow. “You alright? Where’d you just go?”

The shock is fresh on your face, salt water from the crashing wave that’s irritating your eyes — you refuse to let yourself cry, here in front of everyone, because all that’s going to do is open the door to a conversation you don’t want to have, incite a fight with Carol that you’ll surely lose, leave you feeling even lower than you do at the moment. You shake your head, trying to shake whatever emotions that aren’t nonchalant off of your face. “Noth—nowhere,” you stammer, voice an octave higher than usual. Wanda’s perplexity only deepens. “More crowded than I thought. Got beer-splashed.”

Wanda breaks into a smile, seemingly buying your excuse. “C’mon, what’d you expect?” she ribs. It’s a loaded question, and if Wanda wasn’t Wanda, you’re sure it’d be enough to light your rapidly shorting fuse. The thin strain in your falsified smile must give something away, because she softens the slightest bit and wraps her arm around yours. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll kick your ass sideways in pool.”

You appreciatively take Wanda’s out, allowing her to guide you away from the Carol show and the crowd of people you have steeled yourself in order to not cry in front of and head with her towards the basement, which the frat has renovated into a lounge space with a giant television, sectional that is infamous for its hosting of The Threesome, and the pool table. It hasn’t garnered quite the same audience that the beer pong game has, but less people means you feel slightly less suffocated. Carol’s still got her foot on your throat, but down here, it’s easier to maneuver and act as though you haven’t just had yourself made a fool in front of everyone without them knowing.

Relieved for the little things, like elbow room, you sit down on the arm of the sectional and take a long drink from your cup — if you’re going to survive the rest of the night without your tail tucking between your legs (and you’re determined to further your self-sabotage by going the extra mile to ensure Carol knows she fucked up, even though it’s likely she doesn’t care) you’ll have to be drunker than this. Wanda adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a pool cue, glancing back over her shoulder at you. “Want someone to show you how it’s done?” she teases.

You lift your cup in acknowledgment, smile shedding off of your lips. “Go for it.”

As Wanda weasels her way into the current game of pool, you do a quick intake of who all’s downstairs. There’s a few of the brothers, a few of the brother’s dates, people that are otherwise background characters designed to make campus seem at capacity but not so many people that no one would notice if you threw up in the corner or worse, started crying. You purse your lips around the rim of your solo cup, scanning the company around the pool table. Wanda sidles up next to another one of her brothers, poking her with the pool cue. “Nat!” Wanda whines. “Give me room.”

Natasha Romanoff shuffles out of the way with the roll of her eyes. “Poke me with the stick again and it’s gonna go somewhere less than ideal.”

Wanda flicks her middle finger upright before hunching around the shape of the pool cue. “You don’t scare me, Natty.”

“Your funeral.”

Your eyes follow Natasha out of the way, and she feels their weight because the next thing you know, you’re off the cliffs and deep somewhere inside the greenery of her eyes. They’re pretty eyes, you idly note, and you find yourself mulling over Natasha Romanoff, as a person, as a concept, as Natasha. She’s the oldest of the girls in the fraternity, a senior to your junior, and she’s been around for so long that it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t there. It’s hard to imagine a room without her in it, a constant fixture on the mantel that you don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore.  

She cocks an eyebrow at you after what’s sure to be a long moment of staring, and Wanda, who is unfortunately more observant than you’d like to believe, begins laughing. “Am I interrupting this little staring contest?”

Natasha smirks. “I could win a staring contest and kick your ass at the same time, Maximoff.”

“Show off,” Wanda grumbles as she passes the pool cue over to Natasha. She then looks at you, and whatever grumpiness dissipates, her shit-eating grin returning. “Now, you on the other hand,” she preludes with a gesture towards you. “There’s no way.”

You drain the rest of your drink and discard the cup off to the side. "You talk a lot, Wan,” you inform her as you walk up to the side of the pool table. Wanda just grins as you turn to Natasha, gesturing for the pool cue. “Let me have a go.”

Natasha acquiesces and passes you the pool cue, giving you the space you need coupled with a low nod of encouragement. There are a few clusters of balls around the table and you’re trying to eye up a shot that’ll give you not only a handful of points, but will get Wanda off your back — even if you are grateful for the timing of her diversions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough; you can still hear the laughter and music through the walls from upstairs, a raucous noise that scatters your train of thought. Is it Carol? What’s she doing? What’s she whispering into Hill’s ear? Does she know you’re even here? Does she care? 

Probably not.

You take the shot without thinking, balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. Wanda barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Just getting warmed up,” you say stiffly, handing the pool cue off.

Wanda’s face is alight with amusement, nodding slowly as she moves around the pool table for her next shot. “Okay.”

You’re too far in your head, and you know it. You’re content to linger on the outskirts of the game while everyone else that Wanda goes about recruiting takes their turn. It’s a few minutes or an hour before the cue ends up back in your hand, like a rickety sort of clockwork that is unexpected but also entirely predictable. You assess the situation and find a decent enough angle now that the game has progressed, significantly so.

You bend over slightly, eyes fixed on a blue ten that’s not too far from the cue. Before you can make the shot, you hear someone behind you muttering. “Do it like this.”

When you glance over your shoulder, it’s Natasha, only a few inches from where you stand, hands hesitating before she reaches out. “Back up,” she guides, her hands stationing on your hips and forcing you to take a half-shuffle of a step backwards. “And lift your elbow like this.” You’re clay and she shapes you how she wishes, her touch feather light. “Okay. Now try.”

You do exactly as she says, pool cue shooting from your hand and colliding with the cue ball. The ten you’ve had your eyes on sails into the pocket without any interference. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart,” Natasha says, her voice ghosting along the back of your spine. As you straighten up, you glance behind you, noticing the faint grin along the curve of her lips.

“Well that wasn’t sexual at all,” Wanda comments with a low whistle as the pool cue returns to her grip. “Do losers get laid still? I wouldn’t know.” With a toothy flash of a grin, she draws the cue back and makes another shot — you’re not entirely focused on her efforts, thanks to the gravity of Natasha’s sights still pressing deep into your skin.  

Wanda talks a big enough game that she recruits nearly everyone standing around the pool shot to give it a go, which provides a window of opportunity for Natasha to brush a hand along your shoulder and steal you away. “Up for a smoke?” she asks, and you nod. You allow her to lead the way out through the basement’s French doors, slipping outside into the backyard where the sky is dotted with stars, the air smells only the slightest bit cleaner, and the music is nothing but a dull pulse from inside the house.

Natasha steers you away from the patio where other fraternity brothers and their guests are sitting around, enjoying their drinks and laughing amongst their idle, stoned conversations around the fire pit. You follow her into the grass, trailing around the side of the house until the two of you don’t have any other company aside from each other and Thor’s knockout rose bushes that he takes great pride in.

She leans up against the wall, hands fishing in the pocket of her jacket for her lighter. For someone who’s devoted the rest of their evening to shooting metaphorical (or even literal) middle fingers in Carol’s direction, you’re still too far on edge to be nonchalant about any of it. The quiet is all consuming, maddening inside of your buzzing mind. Natasha produces a joint, embers burning on the end as she lights it and brings it up to her lips. You’re left to watch as she takes a long, casual drag, a cloud of smoke billowing from her lips on the exhale. Her wrist then extends, offering the joint up; if there is such a thing as too eager, you’d be the poster child for it, the way you pluck it from her fingers and take a hit.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice a low drag of gravel against the muted bass thud inside of the house. You open an eye and glance over at her, her green eyes burning holes through you as she watches. 

“Eh,” you mutter half-heartedly with a shrug. “Not worth it.”

You pass the joint back to her after you take one more drag, your eyes fixed on the steady stream of smoke that you forcibly control the exit from your mouth. It’s nice to have control over something, you think, even if it is, to some degree, just seeing how long you can hold your breath. 

“Seems like you could use a distraction,” Natasha comments, fingers idly rolling the joint between her fingers as smoke still curls from the tip. 

You laugh, a low and guttural noise that’s passive at best. “Yeah, probably.”

Natasha turns so her entire body is facing you, and it doesn’t register, the way that she’s looking at you, until you feel her brush your hair off of your face. Your eyes fully open, somewhat surprised by the action, watching her carefully. Natasha’s a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one you’d readily associate with her. It’s almost like she’s handling you like glass, waiting for the right moment to shatter you. It’s a hiccup in your chest, a strange feeling washing over your body.

“Let me distract you, then.” She says it simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to arrive at.

“Nat, what...”

“C’mere.” One of her hands encircles your wrist, guiding you closer. You follow wordlessly in her guidance, unsure of what she’s doing or what’s to come. She takes another hit of the joint, her eyes glowing the same way the end of the joint does, a low burning fire that seems to grow hotter the longer your eyes are connected. 

The hand holding your wrist slides up your body until she’s cupping your jaw, her thumb darting across the expanse of your face to swipe across your lips in a prompt to open them. She lowers the joint, bringing her face inches away from your own as her mouth forms a perfect circle and releases smoke. You’ve shotgunned weed before, but never at such a close proximity. Natasha breathes out and you breathe in, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Gonna let me distract you some more?” she whispers, and you barely register yourself nodding before her lips capture your own. Her mouth is plush and soft but nothing about her is gentle anymore — this is where she forces a spiderwebbing crack across your surface, the deft way in which she manipulates your lips to do exactly as she’d like, her tongue skating across the skin and opening your mouth to allow her access. You can’t help but to sigh into the kiss. She is exactly what she claims she is: a distraction, a welcome reprieve, and the golden halo around Carol’s head seems fuzzy and jilted now.

Natasha kisses you like she’s trying to set you on fire; at some point she has absconded the joint and ground out its remnants into the mulch, both her hands cupping your face as she boxes you in with her legs and adjusts the two of you so your back is now flush against the wall. “How’s this?” she murmurs against your ear, lips starting a descent down your neck that is feather light and the gentle scrape of her teeth.

“Very... very distracting,” you stammer out, fingers curling into fiery red hair. 

“Good,” Natasha hums, her mouth vibrating over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone that causes your grip in her hair to tighten. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so far in your head.” 

You nod, thankful for the reward of her body pressing against yours. 

“What d’you say?” Her voice ghosts over your skin, and for a moment, you’re not sure what it is she’s asking. It takes a moment, the weed and the liquor clouding your mind, but the dig of Natasha’s blunt fingernails into your hips and the graze of her teeth along your skin serves as motivation. “Huh? What d’you say, princess?” 

“Thank you,” you gasp, the feeling of her mouth tightening around your skin wet and hot sending a glimmer of electricity down your spinal cord. Natasha chuckles, a dark and melodic noise that buzzes through your body. 

“You’re welcome,” she croons. “’S that all you needed? Or do you need more?”

More. It’s the knee jerk response you have, the way your world has narrowed down to just her and the scent of her heady perfume and each individual curve of muscle is now flush against you. Your eyes open only to see Natasha grinning like she’s the fuckin’ devil. 

Maybe you were misplaced somehow.

Natasha’s hands drag over your sides, up and down roughly as she kisses you and forces your legs farther apart so she’s able to snake one of her thighs in between them. She rucks your top up on the edges, fingers brushing over your skin in a delightful contrast to the cool evening air. Natasha is hot, her touch burning and singeing the skin wherever it moves. She’s painting you out of ashes and making you into something beautiful, something uniquely her own. Her hands slip underneath your shirt and you feel one hand trail upwards, fingers wrapping around your breast before squeezing. It elicits another tiny moan from you, which Natasha swallows down with a kiss. “Shh,” she hisses against your lips. “Be quiet.”

You arch into her touch as her fingers slip beneath the cup of your bra and pinch your nipple tight, another squeak of pleasure groaned into her mouth. It only encourages her further, the other hand of hers moving in the opposite direction. “Want me to touch you?” she whispers in your ear while you press your mouth into her shoulder, breath warm against your ear and her teeth just barely missing your earlobe. “Bet you’re not distracted now; only thing you and that pussy are thinking about is me, huh?”

“Fuck, Nat,” you mumble into her skin.

“Yeah you are,” she replies with a shit eating grin, your head tilting back until it roughly meets the back of the wall as her hand goes up your skirt. 

You’d been meticulous prior to coming over, thinking on whatever lone star trailing in the sky that you’d be seducing Carol tonight; you’d purposefully worn your skimpiest pair of underwear just to show her what she could have if she was with you. It’s only when you see the look on Natasha’s face, the way her pupils dilate and her jaw slackens the slightest bit as her fingers skim in between the folds of your thigh and vulva and feels lace that you feel something resembling satisfaction. “You came ready for a distraction, princess,” she grumbles, moving your underwear to the side and swiping her fingers through what is now sheer want dripping from you. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“N... Nat,” you whine, squirming around in the pursuit of pressure. “Touch me.”

She places the tip of her finger at your entrance, just barely teasing it in. “Ask nicely, honey.”

The words spill from your lips without thought. “Please, Nat, please touch me, fuck m—” She cuts you off as she slips her finger inside of you and you all but rocket up the side of the wall at the feeling. Her free hand, still underneath your shirt, wrestles out from beneath the fabric and is slapped over your mouth to muffle whatever noise you make.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” she says between her gritted teeth. “Here.” She presses her index and middle fingers against your lips and you acquiesce, opening them wide enough to allow them to slip in. “Suck.”

You do as you’re told, happy to oblige as she begins to finger you. There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way she fucks you; she adds another finger and finds a steady rhythm, curling each time she’s knuckle deep inside of you just so she can be rewarded with you humming around the fingers in your mouth. It amuses her to some extent, the way her eyes have darkened and her mouth is slightly agape. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and considering how tight you are wound, you’re not going to last long.

"Clench around me, pretty girl,” she hisses amongst the other litany of dirty things she’s whispering in your ear. “Such a sweet pussy, does whatever I ask it to; what if I want this pussy all to myself? You gonna let me have it?”

You nod, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before she hauls you in for the filthiest kiss of your life. “Fuck,” you whimper against her lips. “Yours, Nat, your pussy.”

“Yeah, I know. This is my pussy now, all tight and hot and wet and desperate just for me. This was what you needed, wasn’t it? Needed me to fuck you silly until you forget how to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Please, Nat, gonna...” 

“What?” she teases, her thumb flicking across your clit and you know that she’s doomed you, mind and body barreling down a track that there is no return from. “What, baby? Use your words.”

“Gonna come,” you manage to get out, and she fucking laughs.

“‘S right,” she agrees. “Gonna make this little pussy come all over my fingers, since I’m the only one who can. That right?” You nod; her fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back so your neck is exposed for her. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you make a mess on my hand. Come for me like a good little slut. You know you want to.” You do, you do, and everything is bordering on the edge of too much the way Natasha is sucking your neck and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Show me who’s pussy this is. Come.”

Another few thrusts and flicks of your clit and you are gone, Natasha bringing her mouth back to yours to swallow the keens and cries of you hitting your climax. The brick wall underneath you scratches at your shirt but it is a heavenly feeling, losing control underneath Natasha. She just smiles when she pulls away and you slump into her, perfectly sated. 

“That was hot,” she says with a wicked grin, pulling her fingers out of you. She doesn’t break eye contact as she brings them up to her lips, sucking your taste off of them. Her eyes alight with pleasure, a contented hum reverberating from her vocal cords. “Thanks, pretty girl.”

Beat that, Danvers.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #carlie writes things #writing: fics #i am a fan of wanda starting shit tysm #let wanda be the villain if she wants!!!! <3 #i have played pool exactly 0 times before so leave me alone

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer 4

Summary: Reader is captured by Hydra again. 

Warnings: Blood, torture, needles, gore, angsty stuff. Major character death (temporary)

Notes: Writing this has helped get me out of a stretch of writer’s block. I hope to be more active going forward. If y’all have any requests, be they new stories entirely, or continuations of existing ones, don’t hesitate to send an ask!

Gn!reader

Words: 4,336

You were just starting to get a feel for how this team operated. Learning how to triage and when to conserve your strength. Dr. Cho was interested to learn more, so you often hung out in the medbay with her. She taught you how to operate almost all the medical equipment, and together you had healed a whole range of injuries. Gunshots were common, but they caused a lot of blood loss, making them hard to fix. Burns were surprisingly difficult, seeing as the damaged tissue was unlikely to comply with the process. 

On most missions, you’d sit on the jet with a com in one ear, and the injured would be brought to you. This worked really well for large-scale stuff, where there were SHIELD agents working in tandem with the Avengers. Today, you were paired with an Avenger to go inside the area.

“Now, Y/n,” Natasha said when the plan was proposed, “If you don’t feel comfortable being back in a HYDRA base, we can sort something else out.”

“Nobody’s going to force you to go,” Steve added.

“But?” You prompted.

“But it’s the best way to ensure everyone comes back from the mission.”

There was a moment where they seemed to hold their breath, and you realized that they were more worried than you. 

“Yeah,” You said, “I’m fine with going in with one of y’all.”

“Thank you so much.” Nat said. Their fears were unfounded. You knew you could operate just fine with the rest of them. The funny thing is, none of them could heal as fast as you, so the worry should have been reversed.

Today was your fifth mission with them, the first time you went in with them. They were tipped off about a small new base, in a strategically compromising place. Their plan was to wipe it out before it became too much of a problem.

You and Natasha were dropped off near the southern entrance, and instructed to wait till Steve drew attention at the western one. It was only the three of you on this mission, as it wasn’t that high-stakes.

Not too long after, the order was sent out, and Natasha cracked open the vault-like door. She took a few steps inside and waved for you to follow her. She took you through a descending maze of tunnels. You kept going, even after Steve’s com went silent. Even through the seemingly endless waves of HYDRA agents. 

As the tunnels kept twisting and turning, a realization dawned on you. The maps were wrong, this place was much larger than anyone had thought.

“Y/n?” Natasha turned to you. Her voice was strained. It felt strange to hear someone speak in such a place, especially after hours of silence broken only by footsteps, water dripping down the damp walls, and an occasional scuffle.

“Yes?” You replied.

“I’m afraid that we must now shift our priorities to getting ourselves out.”

“But what about Steve?” You asked. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” She said, “But we have to leave him.”

“No… No, we have to go find him! He wouldn't just leave us if we were missing! He could be alive out there. If they caught him-”

“Stop!” Her voice ricocheted around the hall, ripping you out of your spiraling thoughts. For a second the word hung in the air, waiting to be followed up.

“Stop.” She repeated, her voice much quieter now, almost pleading. “I know you were close with Steve, and this can’t be easy for you, but we have to assume he is dead. We are both worn out. Even if we were to find him, we would be of no help. I need you to focus on right here, right now.”

“Okay.” You wiped your eyes. Natasha knelt down next to you to get to eye level.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” She said.

“It’s okay.” You murmured, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not easy for you, either.”

“It’s not, no, but that doesn’t mean I can yell at you.” She said, “Do you think we can keep going or do you need a hug first?”

One hug later, you were retracing your steps along the cold tunnel. It was now oddly quiet. Like the walls dampened any sound, or the darkness swallowed it.

“Natasha Romanoff, put your weapon down.” Natasha tightened her grip as a man emerged from the shadows. He was a sharply-dressed, impossibly smug, older man. Obviously HYDRA. 

“Nope.” She aimed it at his head. “You're gonna stay right there, and tell me how you're still alive."

“Miss Romanoff, I suggest you drop the pistol.” Dozens more HYDRA agents materialized out of the darkness in front of and behind you. 

“Half of my men have their aim set for them,” He gestured to you, “You and I both know even they can’t heal a shot through the skull.” He was right, and she was worn out after walking and fighting for hours. Finally she relented and dropped the gun. Immediately, an agent with dark hair stepped forward and wrangled her into handcuffs. She resisted a little, but one reminder that your life was hanging in the balance put that to an end.

The dark haired agent then opened a small briefcase, and removed a syringe and vial. He filled it slowly and injected it into Natasha’s inner arm. She winced for a moment, then her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.

You gasped.

“Not to worry.” The smug agent said, “This is simply a precaution. She will wake up shortly after we relocate her.” 

“Who are you?” Your voice wavered. 

“I am Alexander Pierce.” He said, “But you will only need to address me as 'sir.' Rumlow here is going to sedate you as well.”

“No!” You managed to scramble a few feet back before someone grabbed you by your shoulder, and dragged you towards Rumlow, who had now filled another syringe. 

As you lost consciousness, Pierce spoke to you.

“It seems we have quite a bit of re-training to do.”

Once again, you found yourself waking up in a cold, dark cell. You opened your eyes, and the room spun violently. You curled and uncurled your fingers as you slowly started getting your senses back. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, they all seemed to be back, though the room still spun.

A man was walking down the hall. When he peered in and saw you were awake, he swung the cell door open, and grabbed you by your forearm. 

“Up.” He said bluntly, “This way.”

You tried your best to walk, but despite your efforts, your legs refused to cooperate, and you ended up being dragged behind him. The cold floor was almost a relief. It was a jarring start back to reality, and helped you to fully regain consciousness. By the time you reached your destination, you were walking behind the man. 

“Sit here.” He ordered. “And wait.”

The room was blank, only a small drain in the center, and a wooden chair bolted to the floor to the right of it, and a rolling cart filled with shining tools to the left. You quickly slipped back into the familiar routine of following commands, and sat. Instinctively, you attempted to make yourself as small as possible, shrinking down as much as the chair would allow.

Not a minute ticked by before the door swung open again. In walked Alexander Pierce, followed closely by Rumlow. 

“Ah, Y/n.” Pierce said, “I was beginning to think that we’d given you a little too much sedative. I need you to tell me about the Avengers.”

“But they’re my friends,” You meekly replied, “They loved me.”

With one swift movement he snatched a knife from the cart and plunged it straight through the palm of your hand. Your eyes widened in surprise and more than a little pain, but you didn’t make a noise.

“Y/n,” He sighed, “This was all a test. And I’m sorry to say that you failed. You betrayed HYDRA the very first chance you got.”

Blood dripped down the arm of the chair. Your hand started to heal around the knife, and Pierce noticed this. 

“For your betrayal, you must be punished.” He wrenched the knife out of your hand, and stabbed it back through. The skin was fresh and tender, which made it hurt all the more. Still, you choked back any reaction.

“Sir,” Another HYDRA agent entered the room, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Captain is awake.”

“I’ll go speak with him.” Pierce sighed and turned to Rumlow, “Rumlow, could you take over here? It seems I have more important matters to deal with.”

“Happily, sir.” 

Before he left, Pierce yanked the knife from your palm. You held pressure on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. A moment later, you removed your hand, and saw the skin knitting itself back together. 

“That’s a neat trick.” Rumlow said. “Hope you’re good at it. When I’m done, a small scratch will be the least of your concern.”

He pulled his arm back and landed a blow to the side of your head.

Hours later, even with your increased healing, you were bloody and broken. Ribs cracked, probably a concussion, four fingernails ripped off, and Rumlow had done something to your arm which made it bend the wrong way. Blood and vomit trickled into the drain. Sweat beaded down your face. All you wanted to do was slip into the darkness, but you still fought to keep your eyes open. 

“Bring them back to their cell.” Rumlow ordered.

“But sir, shouldn’t the medic–?” He protested.

“They’ll be fine.” Rumlow cut him off. And so you were dragged back through the halls, and thrown into the cell once more. Now that the drugs were mostly out of your system, you could take a look around the room. It had a cot pushed against one wall, and a joint toilet/sink combo on the other. The concrete walls were rough, and the only light came from a yellow bulb down the hall.

You lugged yourself to the cot and wrapped the thin blanket around your shoulders before flopping over. The coarse fabric was like a potato sack, but it was better than lying directly on the hard bunk. Most of your injuries had stopped bleeding by now, and the rest of them could be dealt with in the morning. For now, resting was the most important thing you could do.

It felt like your eyes had just drifted closed, when a uniformed man rattled the bars, waking you up. As you opened your eyes, familiar pain washed over you. You walked over to the cell door, only a little groggy and off-balance. The agent guided you across the hall and up a staircase. He led you into a room, with an unconscious Natasha, tied to a chair. Alexander Pierce was waiting patiently beside her. 

“Here we have Ms. Romanoff.” Pierce said to you, “She used to work for HYDRA, but she decided to turn her back on us in favor of the Avengers.”

You nodded. You already knew that Nat had escaped the Red Room, having bonded with her over shared stories of HYDRA’s brutality. 

“I need you to know what happens when someone betrays HYDRA.” He motioned to the man who escorted you there. He was now holding a gun to the back of Nat’s head. Pierce crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He was now at eye level, and you could see the pure evil in his eyes.

“She will not wake up.” Pierce said, looking you straight in the eye, “Ever.”

Hearing that, something snapped. Something deep inside you gave way. Years of pain came bubbling to the surface, along with something new. A novel emotion, one you hadn't felt before.

Anger.

It coursed through your veins and even a decade of HYDRA’s conditioning couldn’t hold it back. The energy you felt, the glow when you healed someone prickled at your skin, but it was colder, more painful.

Suddenly, Pierce recoiled, clutching his hand. A hole went straight through his palm, an identical wound to the one he gave you earlier. You lunged towards the man threatening Nat, and snatched his weapon. Without any hesitation, you shot him. He crumpled to the floor. 

Then you turned to Pierce.

“Pierce,” You said, pointedly not calling him ‘sir.’ 

“There has been something I’ve been dying to try. Turns out it works. Can you guess what it is?”

Pierce scrambled backwards, still holding his hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

“That’s right,” You said through gritted teeth, “I gave you back the injury you so graciously gifted me. Except, I don’t need a weapon.” With that, you crouched next to him, mirroring the movement he had done just moments before. You closed your eyes, recalling an extra-painful gunshot wound you’d healed, you touched Pierce’s arm. The cold flash of pain only lasted a split second for you, but as you opened your eyes, you saw the pain and terror on his face, and knew it worked.

You had successfully transferred an injury to someone. Standing, you looked at his shirt, which blood was starting to stain. 

“Pierce,” You said, “You still have a few seconds to do something good in your life before you bleed out. I just need to know two things. How do I wake Natasha up, and where is Steve?”

“I’ll…” He sputtered, “I-I’ll never t-tell.”

“That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out myself.” 

A moment passed, then Pierce wheezed two final words.

“Hail HYDRA.” Then he slumped back against the wall. Just to be sure, you unloaded the rest of the clip into his head before walking back to Nat’s chair. 

Finally, you had a moment to take in the room, you saw she was hooked up to an IV of what you assumed was a sedative. You carefully removed the needle, and took a quick assessment of her state. 

She was bloody and bruised, with a nasty laceration on her calf, which was probably going to make walking hard, but ultimately not anything she couldn’t handle. You desperately wanted to take it from her, but decided against it since you were already overloaded with healing your own injuries.

It felt so strange. She was the person who came and rescued you from HYDRA, and now she was tied up in one of their bases. Every day, Nat was so strong. Always protecting you, making sure you felt welcome and safe, and helping you through the memories of HYDRA.

The adrenaline from discovering part of your powers was still flowing through you, and you managed to push the spiraling anxiety down. After all, you had to get Nat out of here. 

She stirred slightly.

“Hey Nat. Can you hear me?” You asked, undoing the cuffs holding her wrists to the chair, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re getting out of here.”

“Mhm…” She murmured, “Pierce?”

“Don’t worry. He can’t hurt you, me, or anyone else ever again.” 

“Steve?” She asked, opening her eyes, but quickly shutting them again.

“I don’t know where he is, sorry.”

“We’ll find him…” She sighed. Natasha opened her eyes – slowly this time – and looked at you. 

“Oh, little зайчик [bunny], when did you get this?” She reached out and touched the side of your face, which you realized still had dried blood on it from yesterday. 

“You’ve been asleep for a long time.” You replied, “If I had to guess, a whole day has passed since we got here.”

“That’s good,” She said. You looked at her, and the confusion on your face was clear, so she explained.

“If we don’t get back today, the others will know something went wrong…”

“And they’ll come get us!” You filled in the rest.

“Exactly.” 

The two of you stayed there for a few more minutes as Natasha fully regained consciousness. You filled her in on the few events between being caught and now.

“Yesterday really sucked, but I did overhear something good.” You said, “Pierce was going to interrogate me or something, but he had to leave when one of his goons came in and told him ‘the Captain’ was awake. So – as of yesterday at least – Cap’s alive! Isn’t that awesome?”

Nat started to nod, but stopped.

“Dizzy, right?” You asked.

“Whatever that stuff was,” She said, “It was strong. How long did you say I was out for, a whole day?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I think they dosed you with way more than Steve and I. They didn’t really care if they gave you too much, since they were planning on killing you right here, just a few minutes ago.”

“How’d you stop them? No offense, you’re not too good at hand-to-hand combat.”

“I…” You started, not exactly sure how to explain, “So… I can take injuries from people, you know that, and I was thinking about that a lot, and I thought ‘Hey, I can take them, what if I can give injuries to people?’ I had no way of testing this, because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Today I finally got a chance to try it out.”

“I’m impressed,” She said, looking around the room at both Pierce and the unnamed guard’s bodies. 

“I bet someone’s gonna get worried about Pierce disappearing.” You said, “We should get moving.”

“Mhm,” Nat agreed, “Help me stand up.”

At first, she was a bit wobbly, but she was fine so long as she could lean on you.

“See if either of them have weapons.” Nat said.

“I already snagged his,” You motioned to the guard. You had pocketed Pierce’s pistol, which you passed to Nat. She probably wouldn’t be very helpful, since she was half-draped across your shoulders. It was better than nothing, though. Her being armed made you feel a little safer.

Just as you were starting towards the door, you heard the muted sounds of raised voices and fighting.

“Stay here,” You said.

“Are you sure?” Nat questioned.

“I can handle this.” You reassured her, and she lowered herself back into the chair. You poked your head out of the room quietly. All the way down the hall, you could see half a dozen men fighting Cap. His movements were sloppy, so he was probably still under some form of sedative. 

Rushing down the hall, you got there just as the HYDRA agents started to get the upper hand. Once again channeling your anger, you extended a hand to the arm of a tall agent, and conjured an injury you’d healed before: a broken arm. For a split second you felt a flash of pain in your own arm, then you felt the bones of the agent’s arm splinter and snap, as if they were tearing themselves apart from the inside.

He yelled and turned, swinging at you with this other arm. You ducked and swiped at his torso, transferring another injury. This time red quickly started seeping through his shirt and he collapsed.

By now the other HYDRA agents had noticed, and one approached you with a knife. This might have posed a bit of a problem, seeing as you had to touch him to utilize your powers.

“Hey kid,” He said, smiling strangely, “I don’t wanna hurt you. If you just–” Before he could say any more you lunged towards him, and threw all your weight into it, knocking him over. Your hands touched either side of his head as you recalled a nasty head injury Stark had once needed help healing.

As you were inflicting brain damage, he stabbed you. While he did manage to puncture a lung, it was a futile attempt at escape. You simply transferred the knife wound to him. His breath sputtered, and he gasped for breath. 

Rolling off of the agent, you saw Steve was able to take out three of the others. You walked through the hall – now littered with bodies – towards Steve. He still looked off-balance, although not that bad now that adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Super soldier serum was helping with the sedative.

“Thank God you’re alright, Y/n.” He said, “Is Nat oka–”

A gunshot reverberated through the hall, and a HYDRA agent that had slipped behind Steve unnoticed fell to the ground. Both you and Steve’s attention quickly snapped to where the shot had come from. Leaning against the door frame, gun in hand, was Nat.

“You missed one,” She said.

“Thanks,” You said, “Now, does anyone know how to get out of here?”

“I remember the path I came in through,” Said Steve, “But there’s quite a few HYDRA agents that route.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Nat said, still more than a little loopy. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” You said, the concern slipping into your voice, “How about you two sit down? I’ll grab these guy’s weapons, while you rest a bit.” 

They put up a little resistance, but ultimately slid down the wall to rest. Your mind raced as you took inventory of the supplies you had. How were you meant to get two semi-sedated adults and yourself out of here with only a few handguns, a pocket knife, and a whole base of HYDRA agents after you?

You glanced at the two woozy fighters slumped against the wall. Even in their doped-up state, they were bandaging each other up.

“Hey Cap,” You said, walking over, “Are you just about ready?”

“Yeah.” He said, “Right after I finish dealing with this.” He gestured towards Nat’s lower leg. Steve was almost done wrapping it up using a torn strip of a HYDRA uniform.

“Can you support Nat while we move?” You asked.

“I could, but then it would be up to you to fight anyone we encounter.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Nat laughed.

You simply shrugged him off, “Just show me the way, and we’ll be out in no time.”

You helped Steve up, and he helped Natasha to her feet. Nat was still rather wobbly, but Steve adapted quickly. The three of you hobbled along, with Steve occasionally stopping to readjust his hold on Nat or to give directions. 

The first time HYDRA agents stumbled across your trio, it was at a junction between two tunnels. Steve nearly dropped Nat in an attempt to throw himself between you and them. By the time he got into position, you had already killed them.

“How did…?” He started.

“I discovered some new aspects of my powers.” You replied. Making a mental note to check up with you back at the Tower, Steve nodded towards the left hallway. 

“It’s this way.” He said. Onwards you went, only encountering a few more groups, and you dealt with them as swiftly as the first. Gradually the walls became less moldy, and the air less musty.

“We’re coming up on the exit,” Steve said, rounding a corner. 

“Be careful, we should expect some–” Nat started, but was cut off by the sound of gunfire. Quickly you smushed back around the corner, against the wall, but not quick enough. Steve wasn’t hit. Neither were you. 

But Nat.

Nat didn’t look good.

A bullet had ripped through the left side of her chest. Her skin was growing paler by the second. She didn’t even get to finish her sentence.

Not thinking in the slightest, you immediately started healing her. Steve tried to push you away, you’d never healed someone this far gone. Even your healing capabilities had limits. Your rage fueled you, blinding you to the pain and stupidity of trying to heal someone who was already dead. 

Life slowly came back to Natasha. Her eyes flickered open, filling with horror at seeing blood now seeping through your shirt.

“Y/n,” Steve said, dread dripping from his words, “What did you do?”

“I took the injury.” You gasped, coughing up blood, “There wasn’t anything else I could do.” You stood up, and turned the corner straight into the sights of countless HYDRA agents.

You were at death’s door, and only rage kept you on your feet. Only anger allowed you to extend your powers over the hall full of cruel, evil people. Only wrath fueled the transfer of this horrible pain from your chest to them instead. 

With a sickening thunk, everyone in the hall fell to the floor, bearing identical wounds across their chests. A moment later, you lost balance. Pain radiated from where your head hit the concrete beneath you, but at least you had gotten rid of the hole in your chest. Distantly, you saw Steve rush towards you, but you blacked out before he reached you.

A dull ache.

That’s all it was.

Distant and floating in an endless void, the only thing tethering you to your body was a dull ache in your head.

Well, that and you could hear voices.

They weren’t talking to you, but still you listened. They were worried. Then the rumble of an engine covered what little you could hear, and you slipped back into the endless void.

You opened your eyes, more than a little confused as to how you got here. You knew where you were, it was obviously the medbay. Moonlight filtered through the windows over the machines that beeped around you. Annoying wires and tubes poked into the skin of your arm. 

You disconnected the machines from you, carefully following the proper protocols so as to not set off any blaring alarms. It was night, after all. Nobody wanted to wake up to the thought of a medical emergency. 

Next to you there was another bed and an armchair. Both of them were occupied by familiar faces. Nat was in the bed, while Steve seemed to have fallen asleep while reading. A smile grew across your face.

You padded over to Natasha, and curled up beside her. 

She was in for a surprise when she woke up. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. 

Part 3, Hair (Medium/Long), Hair (Buzzed)

#marvel #writing #marvel x teen!reader #avengers #avengers fan fic #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x y/n #avengersxreader #avengers x reader #hydra #marvel fan fiction #gn!reader

[newtdrawz]

My fav thing to do ever is when a TV show/movie/book are really fast passed and like really serious/dramatic and have a found family is to like think abt them doing regular stuff 😭

Like ya ykw I WILL picture Sam and Cas having a day spent at the local grocery store because Dean's out on a hunt so it's up to them to get their groceries and it just gets really silly

And I'm so glad I'm not the only one cuz I'll see a really serious post/a deep dive of a characters trauma and then right after it is a post abt like "what if they had a garden :) and made bread? :)" like you're so right they DO have a garden and make bread

I LOOOVEEEEE thinking abt THE CHARACTER doing mundane things and going out and running errands

Fix it fics are one of my favs can you tell? 😭

(And also ik this is NOT an original thought I just needed a reason to share my 'Sam and Cas go to the grocery store' thing cuz I think it would be fun lol)

#newt shut up challenge #newtcore #fandom #fix it fic #au #spn #supernatural #castiel #sam winchester #any character #really #you know what #throw the Avengers in there #i am #number 1 fan #of the 'all the Avengers live together in the tower and have movie nights' trope #found family

[buckyalpine]

I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.

He’s selfish in giving and taking.

He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.

He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.

"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"

You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.

"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.

"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.

He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.

He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.

"Buck, you coming-?"

"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"

"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"

Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.

Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.

No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.

He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.

“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.

"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"

"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-

"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"

"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.

"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.

He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.

He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-

Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfics #avengers fluff #avenger fanfiction #avengers smut #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky fandom #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

[mydarkorchid]

God there’s such a huge goldmine for real media fics in the blue lock fandom. Blue Lock itself is already a tv show in universe, so you don’t even need those convoluted explanations to write a watching the show fic. Then you have the fact that they’re public figures and social media fic, sports articles, interviews. Hell writing a fic from the perspective of a fan watching the show. Ahh tons of things we can explore with this aspect of blue lock!!

#in the perfect world I have enough time to write all these type of fics 🥲 #or the editing skills for one of those social media fics #real media and watching the show fics are such a huge guilty pleasure of mine #that one avengers fan fic that was a hybrid of a court case and social media reactions #and a ton of illustraice’s works ahh I love it!! #blue lock #bllk #stella rambles into the void

[banabotch]

Chemistry

Description: Some things are given the perfect name. Natasha finds beauty in that. Some things are and sound as they appear, nothing deeper hidden underneath. Just a word and an obvious definition. That’s why she’s a fan of one-night stands. It’s not deep. It’s one night. Then, it’s over. So, you can imagine she’d get upset when one moves in.

Warnings: (Nat x OC! Series) smut, cringe-worthy awkwardness, angst, fluff, death, war, typical MCU stuff, trauma

(Prologue)

Lucky didn’t even begin to describe the way Kora was feeling. She was dreading going out at all, feeling out of touch in the crowd since being a mother. She had a teen pregnancy. Sure, she was an adult. 18. That didn’t mean she hasn’t missed out.

She got pregnant in highschool, and she could deal with that. She could handle the rumors that got out of control, the dirty looks, the rude teachers. None of it bothered her, not at first.

Then, her daughter came into the world. She couldn’t go to school. She didn’t trust anyone to watch her baby while she was there. That meant she couldn’t go out, unless it was child friendly.

News Flash: Highschool and college students aren’t child friendly.

With all the change, she was forever grateful to keep Anna. Her best friend for life, her ride or die, her family. But Anna was a kid too. She was still young, still experiencing. Kora didn’t blame her for choosing a fun time over her.

It was only natural for a kid to want to have fun. Kora understood, because she longed for that same carelessness and spontaneity. She didn’t blame her friend at all, but it still sucked. She had no support system, even now.

Kora loves her daughter more than anything; there is nothing that could replace the fulfillment of being a mom, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the loss of connection to her youth. She could feel it, and it made her nervous.

She considers herself lucky, yes. The bar isn’t, by any means, packed. In fact, there were only a few people occupying the space. It eases her mind, being less overwhelming than a nightclub. She doesn’t want random people grinding up on her or slipping something in her drink. She wants a good fuck, and that means being pickier. Unfortunately, her luck didn’t supply her confidence. That’s a job for liquor.

She makes her order: a screwdriver, double. Kora always found that alcohol provided her with lust. She found it particularly hard to see more than aesthetics without substances. Even with them, she preferred to close her eyes, preferred the absence of them, of who was fucking her. It often made her feel weird; different; outcasted. For a girl already so set apart from her age group, from society even, it only added fuel to the fire. So, she drank.

“Another?” The bartender asks, a thin line of sweat on his brow, rag thrown over shoulder, looking down at her. One could say the man was gorgeous, and Kora noticed. She looked at him a moment, considering his words, feeling the beat of the music thump around her and the heat of her drink swishing down her chest towards her liver. She could use another.

“Yes.” She doesn’t have to ponder on it for long. She’d been there 2 hours now, drinking and drinking, starting to worry that maybe she isn’t as pretty as she thought. She had a few guys come up to her, but none were attractive.

Come to think of it, she doesn’t think anyone hot ever had come up to her before. If it did happen, her guess is their mouth made them ugly. She wonders if she would mind taking the bartender home.

She supposes that she would, if the opportunity arose. There’s something about men she can’t have that turns her on. It’s exciting, being desired so badly that a man would risk his job to be with her.

“Penny for your thoughts? A drink?” A woman speaks beside her, drawing her out of her head and back into the dark room. She swirls the last of her drink in the bottom of her glass, hesitating. Something inside her is bubbling. She figures she’s excited to make a new friend.

“It’s not much of a party in here, is it?” Kora smiles, gesturing to the quiet atmosphere. The woman is pretty, that’s for sure. She doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this. It’s so run down, gloomy, and cheap. It’s not the setting Kora would imagine to meet someone that looked like her.

“That’s why I like it.” She smiles back, ordering that drink with an air of comfort. Kora assumes she’s a frequent flier, maybe even friends with the bartender, a man she thanks by the name of Kevin. She calls him Kev, flashes a smirk, and returns her attention to her drink.

“You don’t like parties?” Kora can’t stop herself from asking, the question leaving her lips before she can so much as think about it. Something about the woman is captivating and Kora can’t look away.

“Most nights, I don’t. You’re looking for one?” Her eyebrow raises, drawing attention to the woman’s eyes. They aren’t brown, but they seem dark from where she sits. Kora finds herself leaning forward, trying for a better look. She blushes at the realization of her actions, leaning back in her seat awkwardly as she runs a hand through her hair, similarly raking through her mind for an appropriate response.

“No. No, I was just thinking that it’s surprising a bar this close to the university isn’t packed.” Kora’s blush deepens at the look she receives from the other woman. She can’t decipher what it means, but it’s gone soon enough.

“Are you disappointed?” She questions, finishing her drink and waving for another.

“No. I was relieved, actually.” Kora smiles, looking away from the woman’s cherry red lips and the way they press firmly against her glass.

“Oh?” She smirks, raising her brow, yet again. This time, Kora only glances at her for a second, looking at her own drink, and taking a sip before responding.

“My friend wanted me to get laid. Although, most the guys in here are old, so I think I’m off the hook.” Kora laughs, glancing back at the woman. She doesn’t know why she’s talking so much, rambling on to someone she only just met.

“You don’t want a good fuck?” She asks, her bluntness throwing the girl off-guard. Kora’s surprised she didn’t blush, or choke on her drink. The woman asked the words casually, gluing her eyes to Kora’s as if she hadn’t been the one speaking, as if she had only been listening; observing.

“Not from an old man.” She laughs, looking around the room again, as if to solidify there was nobody to catch her eye.

“Their loss.” Her voice is low, and Kora feels her heart speed up. The woman looks so casual and confident that Kora is desperate to appear a similar level of carefree.

“They’re too fragile, I think.” Kora doesn’t know how she meant for it to come off. She’d never have this conversation sober. Maybe that’s why she got drunk.

“So you like it rough then?” She smirks, watching an embarrassed blush color the girl’s cheeks.

“I don’t know. I definitely don’t like it weak.” She smiles, taking another sip of her drink. There’s nearly an air of awkwardness, one Kora knows is her making, but the other woman paints over it quickly.

“Has no younger man tried to pick you up?” She gestures to the rest of the bar, which has increased in size since Kora first arrived. Kora notices, as the woman moves, that the light bounces off her hair, making it shine in an almost red hue. It makes her wonder what color it really is, if it feels as soft as it appears.

“They have.” Kora avoids the woman’s intrigued gaze. She feels embarrassed, as if she’s been caught acting a way she’s not supposed to.

“I don’t doubt it.” She sounds so sure, so much so that Kora can’t help but glance up, almost as if to see if her face told another story.

“You asked?” Kora is not easily distracted by flattery, even when drunk. She’s suspicious now, her own eyebrow raising with a scrunch.

“That, I did…I wanted to ask why you haven’t gone with them, but that seemed too crass.” Her voice sounds slightly unsure to Kora. She appears utterly at ease, as if she’d just spoke about the weather. It confuses Kora slightly, who feels a strange sense of far-off excitement at what it could mean.

“Oh.” Kora doesn’t know what to say. However, she is desperate to keep the pretty woman talking. “I guess they just weren’t good enough.” Kora mentally curses herself at the arrogance, but the woman is only amused.

“So you play hard to get?” She smirks at this, takes a drink, and Kora looks away.

“Not usually.” She blushes, embarrassed by how easy she must sound. A woman as pretty as the one before her has likely had many men kneeling at her feet. Kora sees no possibility of this girl going home with just anyone.

“What changed?” The woman speaks again, turning her body slightly, as if to make the other girl more comfortable or open.

“I haven’t been satisfied.” Kora almost slaps a hand over her mouth. Her words came out sultry, sexy, and with a sense of challenge. The alcohol must’ve gave her more than confidence.

“Yeah? That’s a shame.” Her voice is raspy, and her pointer finger runs the rim of her glass. Kora feels her eyes burn with gloss, as if watching that act had burned a hole, all the way down to the apex of her thighs.

“It is?” Kora feels her eyes snap to the other woman’s, desperately trying to read the words. They could mean anything, if she really thought about it.

“If I had a pretty girl like you, well…” The woman smirks, taking a swig of her drink, and emptying the glass. Kora notices herself watching as the alcohol is pushed down the woman’s throat. She notices the eyes smugly looking over at her, waiting for the moment Kora realizes that she’d been caught. Kora catches her eyes, but surprises the woman.

“Well?” Kora pokes, trying her best to appear the way the woman was. She keeps eye contact, straightens out her posture, and tries her best to look neutral. She can’t find it in herself to not see how this goes, but she doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Well…” A devious and arrogant glint passes over her eyes, “I’d fuck you just for saying that.” The words sucked air from Kora’s lungs and lit a fire below her stomach.

“Too bad nobody has me.” She shrugs, a playful glint in her eye as she mixes her drink slowly with the umbrella straw.

“Oh, no. That’s no bad thing, sweetheart.” She purrs, causing Kora to look up in confusion.

“Why’s that?” The other woman is confusing Kora in many ways, but at this, she’s starting to think it’s just a game. It’s fun, but not quite what she’s looking for.

“If nobody has you, that means I get to fuck you and not feel bad about it.” She states, finishing her drink without even the slightest reaction.

“You think you’re gonna fuck me?” Kora may be affected by the woman’s words, but something inside her wants to play with the other woman too, payback almost. She was on the edge of disappointed, about to jump off and kill the question of her desire. The woman had put her there and pulled her back just as carelessly.

“You don’t want me to?” Her eyebrow raises, an amused expression raising her face. Kora hates how the woman can keep her cards drawn in close, how she remains so constantly cool and sexy.

“I-What if I didn’t?” She poses the question with procrastination, part of her scared of her own answer, of her own desire.

“I’d call you a liar.” She states, drawing over the bartender to close her tab. Kora can’t find a response, blown away at the knowing arrogance of the woman before her. “Look, I’m heading out. You can come with me, or you can stay here. I don’t care.” Kora watches as the woman stands, pulling out a wad of cash to count, before leaving a generous tip. Kora notices even her actions are careless, as if she had no concern over getting mugged. It turns her on, makes her feel strangely safe. No woman is stupid enough to be careless in New York City.

This woman? She lacks fear, which Kora finds enthralling. As the woman turns to leave, she finishes her drink and runs after her, gripping a surprisingly muscular arm to steady herself. For the first time in years, Kora is excited.

—-

A sound akin to a squeak slipped from Kora’s mouth when their lips smashed together. It felt tingly. It made her tingly. The woman’s mouth was warm, really warm. It made the cool air of the hotel room seem a little more cold, or maybe that was the fan. She couldn’t think about it. When hands cupped her jaw, Kora found herself leaning into it, enjoying it. She got lost in it.

She whimpers when she’s slammed against the wall. The woman pushes closer to her at the sound. She’s getting more confident, more aroused. Kora never thought a kiss could feel so good. She wondered how the rest of the night would go when she already felt like this. It made the Apex of her thighs feel warmer.

A hand drops to her neck, wrapping around the back, pulling her into the woman. Kora’s own hands set themselves on the woman’s hips, feeling her curves, sliding up her tank top to touch the soft skin of her waist.

The woman groans at this, pulling back to leave hot kisses down Kora’s jaw, heading to her neck, where her pulse thuds and her heavy breathing only gets heavier. A soft moan leaves her mouth when the redhead finds her sweet spot, pulling the skin tight and into her mouth, caressing the sting of her teeth with a wet tongue.

Kora raises a hand to the red hair in her line of sight. She sighs at how soft it is. It feels better than she had imagined. She runs her fingers through it, and she can’t help herself. She tugs. A grunt falls from the woman’s lips, who was working on slipping the dress past Kora’s shoulders. The woman allows herself to be tugged up, back into a hot and heavy kiss.

A firm grip lands on Kora’s hips. They’re pulled up and into the other woman, who grinds back, and Kora moans. The hands slide down, feeling for the bottom of her dress, sliding up her thighs, revealing her lacy panties. A strong thigh slips in between her own and she can’t hold herself back. She grinds down, feeling her throbbing get better.

She lets herself fall into it, back and forth, back and forth. When she fails to kiss back, lips leave hers and drop to her neck again, sucking harsher. The hands on her hips guide her, moving her again and again against the rough fabric of the woman’s jeans. Even as she shudders, as one hand finds the woman’s hair, and the other slips under her black leather jacket, feeling the tight muscles of her back shifting with movement, the repetition stays the same. Even as she moans, as she clutches the woman tighter to her, breast to breast, and face falling into the crook of the neck before her, the woman keeps moving her.

Forward, now back, forward, now back. Forward and her stomach is clenching, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Slightly faster and she can only focus on the coil in her belly. It’s getting hotter, twisting harder, and she knows she’s close to getting what she so badly wants.

“You’re moaning so pretty for me, sweetheart.” That’s all it takes. Just 7 words wrapped in the sweet sound of her voice, dripping with sex. Kora’s thighs clench around the woman’s. She gasps against her neck, letting herself come undone, arching back into the wall behind her, feeling the familiar warmth of lips returning to her neck.

The woman stretches her high, continuing the grind against her thigh, feeling the warm wet path of juices on her leg. She sighs at the feeling, at the woman grasping onto her, at the sweet taste of sweat on her neck, and the soft skin under her dress. She can feel the girl shift, the overstimulation likely growing uncomfortable. The woman loves it. She wants more.

“Please.” Kora pants, the sound coming out at the level of a whisper, with the tone of a whimper. She doesn’t know why she’s begging, or how to ask for what she wants, but the woman appreciates it nonetheless. She can tell by a groan at the words.

She’s pushing them backwards, further into the room. Kora’s knees hit the mattress, and she climbs back shakily, situating herself comfortably in the center, the woman staring her down, taking in every inch of Kora.

It almost leaves her uneasy: the hungry look on her face. If she wasn’t feeling the same way, she’d close her eyes. But she keeps them open, locking them with the woman, seeing what she missed in the bar. They’re green. They’re sharp and careful and calculating. They’re bold and make her want to look away, to cower. She blushes instead.

Those eyes gloss just a tad more, getting closer and closer, until they drop to the dress, to her hips. She climbs up, on all fours, hovering over Kora, looking down at her with pure lust. She takes in the sight. The straps to her dress are still pulled over her shoulders, down her arms. Her collarbone is exposed, and the woman runs her eyes over it, jogging down to her cleavage and walking lower to the curves accentuated by her dress. She smirks at her thoughts; reveling at the body below her; ready for some real fun.

Slender hands slide down under Kora and pull her up. One hand holds her like this, steady in the air. Kora nearly moans at the display of strength. Her hand falls to the woman’s arm, feeling her up, all the way to her shoulders. The woman unzips Kora’s dress, a slight blush rising up her neck while she’s being felt.

Suddenly, Kora drops. A gasp leaves her lips, blush darkening. The woman smirks again, watching her body react to the fall. Her breasts bounce, her arms brace, pushing her chest up, and the dress slides further up her thighs as her leg comes up to steady herself. The woman smiles, but it’s not sweet or comforting. It’s dangerous.

Her dress is removed delicately but quickly, slipping down her waist without the slightest scratch. She’s surprised by this. Although, that emotion could be the product of the woman’s warm body slipping between her legs, pushing her deeper into the bed.

It all feels so good. The weight, the way hands gripped her hips, felt her stomach, her breasts pressed against the other woman’s. She’s never been with a girl before, and Kora finds herself slightly anxious. She doesn’t know how to make the other woman feel good too.

Her own hands fall back into the red hair. She loves the silky texture, and even more so enjoys the feeling of soft lips on hers. She decides to take more control, sliding her mouth across the woman’s jaw, feeling her clench, dragging her fingertips over the tight muscle. She places a kiss there, and continues down. The girl’s neck is nearly burning, but it feels nice. It’s like hot tea on a night without sleep, warming her insides, tasting so sweet, and filling her head with a fluffy swirl of daze.

The woman smells like sweat and honey. Kora finds herself breathing it in, almost as if to save it for memory as she licks a stripe up her neck, stopping occasionally to suck and wrap a leg around the woman, pulling her further into Kora. The woman breathes heavier, but doesn’t allow this for long.

“Tsk, I’m not the one getting fucked tonight, am I?” Her voice is raspy, dark, and oh so pleasant to hear. The words turn Kora on even more than she’d like to admit, more than she understood to be possible. That, accompanied by the woman gripping her jaw, forcing her face closer. Their breaths mingle, Kora’s lips tickle with the air, her nose picking up the sweet scent of whiskey.

“No.” Kora breathes, letting the woman pull back.

“That’s right. So be a good girl and keep these hands to yourself.” Kora watches the woman grab her wrists, pulling them up above her head. Her hips raise, gliding along the woman’s toned torso. The pleasure only lasts a second, a hand firmly holding her hips down into the mattress. A pout finds her lips and the woman smirks.

Kora’s hands are left lying there, her hips devoid of relief, and the woman sinks lower. Their eyes are linked, a never ending staring contest taking place. Kora is curious. She doesn’t know what’s going to come next. The woman is craving a reaction.

A manicured hand runs up Kora’s chest, snapping the strap of her bra against her skin. Kora gasps, the slight sting matching the fire in the woman’s eyes, the contact making her all the more wet.

Her other hand starts at Kora’s calf, running up lightly, reaching her knee, her lower thigh, and just slightly higher. She’s right below where she’s needed, just watching, running her thumb back and forth in a featherlight manner. She watches Kora’s chest rise and fall with heavy pants, the glazed look in her eyes, the twitch of her hips, the tight hold on the sheets above her head. The woman doesn’t linger here long and for that, Kora is glad.

The hand on her thigh stops moving. She leans back on her legs, her hands pulled to her own thighs. She looks contemplative; excited but undecided. Then, she climbs up. She straddles a leg, pushes her knee up into Kora’s sex, and drops her torso over the other girl. Kora moans, grinding down on her again. With hands holding her up on either side of Kora’s head, the woman smirks.

“Arch for me.” Kora is taken aback, but does as she’s told. Her breasts touch the woman’s above her, with only the fabric of her bra keeping her from feeling more than a light skim over her nipples. Just then, the woman reaches under her, undoing the clasp on her bra as if having read her mind. She pulls it off gently, sucking in a breath at the sight. Kora blushes.

“So pretty.” She purrs, gliding a black fingernail over her collarbone, down, down, down, until it brushes against the soft skin of her nipple. Kora’s stomach flexes, her hands gripping the sheets tighter, anticipation filling her veins, raising goosebumps on her skin.

“Thank you.” She breathes, her cheeks burning hot at the look she receives. Kora feels desired and equally so, desire. The woman turned her head just slightly at the gratitude, confusion tugging at her brow only for a millisecond, before she relaxes and a smirk grows again. Something about Kora’s words seem to turn her on.

Kora gasps as a warm, wet mouth lowers on her lower breast, sucking slightly. Her other hand rises to give attention to the other. She sharply tugs at the nipple, surprising Kora, whose back arches slightly, a pretty noise escaping her mouth while her hand drops to the woman’s hair. She runs her fingers through it, holding the back of her head to ground herself. The woman groans against her, a ripple of vibration releasing a soft whine from Kora.

“Did the pretty girl forget?” Kora stills at the words. She hadn’t realized she’d gone against the rules. She rolls her eyes, annoyed.

“Must have.” She snarks.

“Your hands stay up here.” She practically growls, firmly holding her wrists above her head with a challenge. When Kora realizes she can’t pull away, her legs clench around the woman’s waist, and she sighs. She hadn’t expected the woman to be so strong.

Pressing her hand over Kora’s underwear and hearing a gasp, the woman smirks. “For someone so wet, you really should listen…Only good girls get to cum.” She whispers in the girls ear, shrugging as she moves her hand away from the soaked cloth and the hips so desperately searching the air for contact.

“Wait…please.” Kora begs, the ache between her legs beginning to pulse. She can’t remember ever being so worked up before. She also can’t remember sleeping with a woman.

“Only this once…because you asked so kindly.” She purrs, ripping the panties from her skin. Kora hears the fabric rip and a hand hushes her complaints, settling itself over her lips. Excitement flows through her veins and a finger slips through her folds. She gasps, lifting her hips into the feeling, satisfaction filling her breaths as her clit receives much missed attention.

As it starts slow, with soft circles around the bud, Kora begins to shift around, pushing into the hand that only pulls back to the same level of ghostly pressure. The feeling is good, but not enough. She can’t stand the lightness of the touch, the breeze of her fingers, instead of their full presence.

“I need more. Harder.” Kora begs, her words muddled by the hand covering her mouth. She locks eyes with the woman who had situated herself straddling a hip, one hand still hiding Kora’s lower face, the other below sight.

“Harder? What’s the magic word?” She husks, turning her hand to drag her fingers down Kora’s mouth, pulling her bottom lip out, feeling it shake with anticipation.

“Please.” She breathes, watching with hooded eyes as the woman takes her in completely, as if she had to consider Kora’s body, as if she wasn’t sure if she felt like giving in so easily, as if she longed to watch a struggle.

“Good girl.” She purrs, smirking as she soaks in the sound of the moan pulled from the girl beneath her. She’s enjoying this too. Kora can tell. She can feel the wetness on her hip, the wetness that’s discolored the jeans she still wears, making Kora frown. She wants to see skin too.

“Take off your clothes.” Kora pants, almost moving her hands to help. She caught herself before she could, her arms only slightly twitching with the thought. Either by this, or her words, the woman’s eyes light up. Kora feels uneasy by it, in an exciting way.

“And I thought you had manners.” She says raspily, pulling away from Kora’s body with a teasing frown. The girl stops herself from protesting the lack of contact, instead watching the woman unbuckle her jeans, pull the zipper down teasingly slow, and begin to wiggle out, looking up through her lashes as she makes eye contact, savoring the moment, the look on Kora’s face, the feeling of air brushing her damp skin.

She slides her jacket off her shoulders, folding it in half and tossing it onto a chair near their bed. Kora’s legs shift together, and the woman notices, but so does Kora. Kora notices the toned muscle and prominent veins on the woman’s arms, the skin of her lower belly, as that too becomes exposed, and the hunger she feels. She aches to reach up and run her hands over her stomach, to feel the ridges in her abs. She’d enjoy any contact at all.

“Better?” The woman asks, her eyebrow raising in question. Kora nods, having enjoyed watching every sliver of skin become exposed while the tanktop came off. She feels awe-struck, lying there, staring up at the women who’d yet to touch her again. “Use your words.” She orders, crossing her arms over her chest, covering the black design on her bra.

“Yes. Much better. Please fuck me.” She whines, begging, pleading with her. Kora’s sex feels uncomfortable. It’s pulsing, begging for contact, aching so badly to be filled. She’s desperate. The woman loves desperate.

Slowly, the woman sits how she had, sliding her hands over the girl’s stomach, using it to steady herself as she straddles Kora’s hip, sighing at the pleasure of it. She looks up, taking in Kora’s breasts, their perkiness, her neck, littered with a hickey or two, her mouth, open and panting, her arms pulled up over her head, and her hands that take hold of the comforter, yet again. She grins, watching the girl’s hooded eyes widen and her mouth part further with a hoarse moan as she slams her fingers into the girl’s pussy.

In: harsh and deep, out: pulling against her spongy walls, each thrust searching deliciously for that one special spot. Kora closes her eyes, her face scrunched in pleasure, her mouth hung open, silently moaning.

Gasp after gasp, and she feels herself getting closer and closer. Her stomach feels like it’s shriveling up, sucking for air, for release. Then, it stops. Nothing is inside her anymore. She feels her sex clenching around nothing, her eyes opening in confusion. The woman waiting for her, for those glossy eyes to open.

Just as Kora moves to speak, to question her, it starts again. It’s slower this time, it’s not enough. She feels herself clench again, sucking the woman’s hand further inside her. Suddenly, she gasps, stars lining her vision as if she had stood up too quickly. Her hips shoot up, making the woman slide down her thigh, a trail of wet heat following her. The woman moans, throatily, unexpectedly, and it’s a noise that has Kora’s thighs shaking, awaiting more pleasure.

“Keep your eyes open this time.” The woman almost looks annoyed at her, setting her hand on Kora’s lower stomach, pressing her weight into it as she pulls herself back to her prior position. Kora moans at the pressure of her hand, pleasantly surprised at the feeling.

Kora doesn’t have time to respond. The words are stolen from her tongue and her mind when two fingers enter her this time, gliding against that spot gracefully.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” She groans, skillfully fucking Kora whilst maneuvering up her body. Kora moans, her hooded eyes glossed over so much that she wonders if tears will fall. The slender fingers pump into her faster, and Kora feels it all. Every edge and side of them rolls smoothly against her walls. She feels almost perfectly full, another finger stretching her slightly.

“Oh my go-od.” Her whole body begins to shake, the sting of the stretch lighting the match in her belly, fireworks just seconds away from releasing from their container. Lips press softly against her neck, a vast difference from the hard thrusts of her hand and the rough grind of her wrist against Kora’s clit.

Kora heard the pops of the beautiful lights in the sky. She must have, because her ears are ringing and her vision is gone and all she feels is pleasure. She’s sure she’s moaning, she has to be. It feels so good. It lasts longer than expected, the woman stretching it out with lazier thrusts and gentle caresses on her breasts.

It’s then that Kora knows she’s screwed.

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