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ellemj · 7 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you're both exposed to an unknown chemical in the field, things go from bad to worse.

Warnings: prelude to obvious smut, talk of masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: Just messing around on here and seeing where I end up. I want to write an absolutely filthy part 2 but if this doesn't get anywhere I may scrap it lmao.

Every. Damn. Time. Something goes sideways every damn time. You want to blame Fury for making the two of you partners to begin with. What the hell did he see between the two of you that made him think missions would ever end in anything other than the two of you butting heads? You sigh deeply and rub your temples with the pads of your left thumb and middle finger, squeezing your eyes shut as you will yourself not to kick Bucky clear across the lab. You know what Fury saw between the two of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, when you’re in absolute life-or-death situations, you and Bucky work together better than any other partner you’ve ever had in the field. Even Nat.

Dropping your hand from your face and opening your eyes, your gaze lands on Bucky. He stands at one of the lab benchtops in the center of the room, his eyes narrowing as he examines an array of monitor screens before him. You can make out an organized table of data along with a few charts on the monitor to his left, but that’s not what draws your attention. The second monitor, the one right in front of him, displays a few words that have you on edge.

Confirmed nitric oxide stimulant capabilities. New formula contains increased quantity of aqueous extract of dried tuberous roots of C. borivilianum.

Shit. This can’t be what you think it is, but with your medical background and your old medical microbiology classes from before joining SHIELD and the Avengers, you know that there’s a very slim chance that you’re misinterpreting what you’re reading. You step forward now, gently pushing Bucky’s arm to move him away from the monitors so you can get a better look at the data. He begins snapping pictures and immediately sending them back to the team. You can feel his eyes on you as you study the graphs and tables. He’s not used to you being this quiet, he knows something’s up.

“What are we looking at?” He finally speaks up, his gaze drawn to the colorful graph displayed on one of the monitors.

“I don’t know.” You lie straight through your teeth, reaching for the keyboard that controls the monitors. You press the right-facing arrow key and the page that said something about nitric oxide disappears, quickly replaced being replaced by a row of video clips, each one titled with a trial number and date. It looks like HYDRA was running trials in this experiment for months.

“Bullshit. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” Bucky asks. His tone is sharp, impatient. He isn’t used to being the one who doesn’t know what’s going on, and it’s bothering him. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek and waits in silence for you to say something, to say anything. You hover the cursor over the first video clip, dated three months ago from today, Trial #1. Everything in you is screaming not to watch it, not to click on it and confirm your suspicions, but you’re here for a reason. You have an easy job here today: break into the HYDRA facility, collect samples and any data that goes along with what they’ve been working on for the past few months, and then destroy the facility on your way out. Sam and Torres planned it out so perfectly, making sure it would be vacant for the next 13 hours so you and Bucky could slip in and get the job done under the radar. They planned it for two months, doing recon and coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan. You need to confirm your suspicions and get as much evidence as possible before blowing the place to bits.

You glance over your shoulder at Bucky, and his blue eyes meet yours with a hint of concern. He hates when you’re quiet like this, he hates those rare moments in the field when he can’t read your mind. What the hell are you thinking? What aren’t you telling him? He knows you well enough to know that you’re nervous about whatever you’re seeing here.

You click the video link and a slightly grainy image of a padded square room fills the screen. The floor and walls are gray and there isn’t any furniture in the room, only what looks to be a set of shackles on the back wall. A shiver runs down your spine and you pull your phone out, typing up a message to Bruce Banner while you wait for something to happen on screen.

You: A chemical compound that stimulates NO and uses aqueous extract of C. borivilianum…is it going to be what I think it is?

As your message sends, Bucky reaches around you, his chest brushing against your back, and he uses the mouse to fast forward the video until people are appearing on screen. You watch as presumably a HYDRA agent shoves a woman into the room, obviously an unwilling participant in the experiment. She doesn’t fight much as she’s placed in the shackles on the wall, but it’s obvious that she’s weak and likely drugged. The HYDRA agent briefly steps out of view of the camera, before returning with a second captive, a man this time. He’s large, muscular, and has a dark look in his eye. You feel Bucky stiffen up behind you, realizing at the same time as you that this man is a super soldier. Your phone vibrates in your hand and you steal a look at the response from Banner.

Banner: Yes.

Fuck. The next two minutes of the video are pure horror, even though nothing particularly horrific happens before you slam your hand down on the spacebar, pausing the clip abruptly. You both watched on as a cloudy vapor was pumped into the room through vents, and then watched on as the super soldier became more and more restless, sweaty, and crazed. As soon as the female captive began whimpering and pulling against her shackles, with her eyes trained on the super soldier a few feet to her left, you couldn’t let the video play any longer.

“Tell me what it is.” Bucky says evenly from behind you. You swallow hard and reach into one of the pockets of your tactical pants, pulling out a device similar to a USB and plugging it into the computer before you. As all of the data and video clips begin to transmit through the device, back to Sam and Torres, you turn around and face your partner.

“HYDRA hasn’t been able to recreate the super soldier serum. They haven’t made any progress at all since Zemo killed Dr. Nagel.” You say slowly, choosing your tone and words carefully. You don’t want to say too much and leave Bucky as terrified as you are right now, but you also know you can’t keep this from him. Not when you need him to understand how fucking careful you’re both going to have to be from now until the end of this mission.

“I know that. What are we here for, y/n?” His tone is growing more and more impatient, his jaw ticking as he stares down at you. God, he can’t ever just shut up and listen. You put your hand on his chest, shoving him a few steps back and walking across the lab, to the glass refrigerator in the far corner. It’s full of vials of a clear liquid, each sealed at the top and marked with a label full of scientific terms.

“They got desperate, and turned to even more barbaric methods of creating super soldiers. They started experimenting with chemical compounds that induce a primal need in those exposed.” You explain carefully. You pause now, turning to look back at Bucky once more. You see realization spread across his face and he quickly comes to understand what you’re saying. It’s a fucking sex pollen.

Static crackles in your in-ear briefly before Sam’s voice reaches you both.

“Banner and Stark just finished reviewing some of the data you shared. This is not something that either of you want to be exposed to.” Sam advises, and you can hear Torres in the background typing away on a keyboard.

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, retrieving a pair of nitrile gloves from a box on the benchtop nearby and setting up the small lockbox that you brought for samples. You open it to reveal a padded interior, with enough room for three vials. The rest will have to be destroyed.

“Just grab the samples, rig the place to blow, and get the hell out of there. I don’t want you in there any longer than you have to be.” Sam’s orders spur Bucky into action, and he starts setting up explosives around the corners of the lab while you get ready to retrieve the samples from the fridge. If only you’d known that HYDRA was one step ahead.

It happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to try to protect yourself. The moment that you pulled open the small door to the fridge full of samples, that same cloudy vapor you saw in the video clip began to rush in from every air vent in the lab.

“Shit.” You mumble, reaching into the fridge and grabbing three vials. You quickly place them into the lockbox and seal it, knowing that you’ll definitely need samples to test now that you’ve both been exposed.

“Sam, we’ve got a problem.” Bucky is as calm as ever, though his voice comes out slightly annoyed. Of course he’d sound annoyed in this moment. He’s been exposed to a sex pollen alongside the partner that he can only get along with when they’re staring death right in the face. He heaves a weighty sigh before stalking over to you and snatching the lockbox from the benchtop. He quickly slides his backpack off, shoving it inside, and then heading for the exit, without checking to see if you’re on his heels or not. You strip off your gloves and bound after him. The gravity of the situation hasn’t hit either of you yet, but oh, it will soon enough.

Bucky weaves his motorcycle in and out of traffic almost recklessly, with your arms clutched around his abdomen. It’s only been fifteen minutes since you were both exposed but you swear that you’re starting to feel the effects. Your cheeks are hot and flushed under your helmet, your hands are shaking as adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart is racing. If you hadn’t been on the back of a motorcycle with Bucky so many times in the past, you would’ve chalked your symptoms up to this experience, but it’s definitely not that.

“Loosen up, are you trying to do the Heimlich on me or something?” Bucky spits out, his voice playing in your helmet. You do as he says, loosening your hold and taking a deep breath in. You don’t say anything in response, which furthers the tension between you both. It’s been fifteen minutes of stressful silence and Bucky’s losing his damn mind. He wants you to give him shit like you usually would when a mission goes sideways. He wants you to lash out, tell him to stop driving like an ass, he wants you to say anything so he knows you’re okay. He can’t fucking stand the silence.

He guides the bike down the long dirt road to the safe house you stayed in last night, and you hop off before he’s even put the kickstand down. He watches as you rush up the steps of the small cobblestone house, yanking off your helmet in one swift movement before you key the code into the door and force it open. You’re feeling the effects of the chemical pulsing through your veins, you’re feeling it and you’re trying to keep it from him.

“It’s a very complex compound. A nitric oxide stimulant, utilizing both natural and man-made components. It’s basically a super soldier version of Viagra and ecstasy all in one.” Bruce says, addressing both you and Bucky through the video call. Concern and stress are etched into his soft features as he stands in the lab of the Avengers compound, his arms crossed and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to have to look out for the negative effects, which from the video clips of their experiments, are extremely strong. Take the side effects of ecstasy and multiply their intensity by a hundred.”

“So, sweating, hypertension and tachycardia, jaw pain…” Your voice trails off as you list off the side effects of ecstasy that you know from your previous pharmacology classes. Bruce nods slowly.

“Basically, you’ll feel like you’re having a heart attack, unless you’re able to relieve yourselves.” He summarizes.

“What do you mean relieve yourselves?” Bucky questions. He’s seated on the couch next to you, his brow is furrowed and a sheen of sweat is becoming apparent along the side of his neck. You try not to look at him for too long, already feeling yourself longing for touch and physical contact of any kind.

“If you’re able to achieve a postcoital state, you should have temporary relief of your symptoms. You might have to achieve that state more than once, until the chemical is out of your system.” You can almost hear the wheels turning in Bucky’s head as he works out what postcoital means. You have to reach an orgasm to feel any relief, but bless Banner for trying to put it in a more professional way.

“Have you tested the half-life of the chemical yet?” You ponder, wanting to know exactly how long you’ll both be suffering through this. You wipe a bead of sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, it seems like it can last anywhere from eight to ten hours in a non-super soldier, but it was designed specifically to work in conjunction with the serum, so it lasts eight to twelve hours in a super soldier.” Bruce’s words are starting to jumble together in your head, adding to the slightly throbbing headache that’s forming behind your eyes. You squeeze them shut and rub your temples just like you did in the lab earlier, zoning out as Tony and Bruce both start discussing the pharmacokinetics behind the compound currently wrecking your body.

“What are our options here?” Bucky asks quietly, directing his question to you alone. You turn to look at him and see his cheeks flushed like yours now, his pupils dilated a minute amount, and his hands clasped together over his knees. There’s no hiding that it’s affecting you both now.

“I don’t know. The only thing I can think to do is lock ourselves in different rooms and try to ride it out.” You say, rubbing your aching thighs through your tactical pants with the palms of your hands. Your bones are starting to hurt in a deep, consuming way, and all you want to do is give yourself a few doses of propofol to knock yourself out for the next eight hours. It’s going to be hell trying to get through this without having sex, especially if pain is setting in only an hour after the initial exposure.

“Okay, so we do that. We each lock ourselves in a bedroom and fight it.” Bucky sounds sure and resolved, like he has total faith that your only plan available will work out fine. All it took to bring out his optimistic side was being doused with a sex pollen and stuck in a safe house.

“I want to monitor both of your vitals through the night.” Bruce calls out, gaining your attention again.

“No.” You and Bucky both speak firmly at the same time, quick to reject the idea. You don’t need a medical record showing how aroused you end up being tonight, you don’t need Bruce or any of the SHIELD lab staff watching your heart rate increase as you touch yourself, watching your blood pressure spike as you near your climax alone. Bucky is thinking the same thing, shit, his heart rate is probably already through the roof as it is, just from sitting next to you. He tries to focus on whatever else you, Bruce, and Tony are discussing but his jaw is clenched in pain and he’s fighting the urge to rip off his tactical suit right there. It feels like it’s fucking ninety degrees inside. The only thing he catches in the last bit of the conversation is from Tony.

“There’s a chance you won’t find any relief in an orgasm alone, Y/n. Bucky will, because his body won’t know the difference between finishing himself off vs. finishing inside of a fertile woman, but this compound is meant to make your reproductive system go into overdrive. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.”

“Fuck.” You inhale sharply, doubling over in pain both at Tony’s unfortunate conclusion and at the cramping sensation you’ve suddenly felt deep in your stomach. Fucking hell.

Next Part

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #sex pollen #the winter soldier #winter soldier #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel

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togrowoldinv · 5 months

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Sure Thing

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you wake up snuggling with Nat, you two decide to take your relationship to the next level

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and Nat receiving), fingering (R receiving), soft but hot first time

Note: As always, Natasha was on my mind. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha wakes up to the feeling of your warm body on top of hers. At some point in the night, you snuck into her room. You’ve been taking things slow and keeping your new relationship secret.

Still, you have come into Nat’s room late at night so that you can snuggle with your new favorite person several times. She loves waking up to your sleepy self.

Nat reaches for her phone to see the time. It’s still early, but soon she will have to get up to run training. She decides to try and slip out from under you. She is unsuccessful as your arm wraps tighter around her waist.

“Detka, I need to get up,” Natasha whispers.

Your response is to bury your face in her neck. She is so warm. Natasha chuckles and you relish in the best sound on earth.

“You can sleep, but I have to get ready for training. Rogers is expecting me to run it today,” Natasha tries again.

“He’ll be fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled by your proximity to her.

“Y/n,” Natasha says. She manages to pry your head from her neck. Her rough, yet tender hands hold your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” you reply. “Sorry I snuck in here again. I just wanted to snuggle.”

“I know,” Nat replies. She leans forward and kisses your forehead softly. “I like that you do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I like sleeping with you,” she says. “Somehow, you always end up on top of me, though. Do you do that on purpose, sweet girl?”

You try to stop heat from spreading across your face and your entire body at the term of endearment she used.

“I- um- no, I think I just like sleeping close to you,” you get the response out.

“Are you sure you don’t just like feeling my entire body against yours?” Natasha asks.

Your eyes go wide at her words. It’s the furthest either of you have taken your flirting. Your intentions were pure, but the look in Nat’s eye makes your thoughts go to not so innocent places. You imagine her falling apart underneath your touch.

“Y/n,” Nat interrupts your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I have 30 minutes,” she says. “If you want to…”

“Yes,” you blurt out. “I mean, yes, if you want to, then I want to.”

Natasha smirks at you before she pulls you in for a proper kiss. It doesn’t feel like just any kiss. She puts something more into it. Her soft lips move against yours in a perfect rhythm. One of her hands drifts down your back to land on your backside.

You moan into the kiss as her hand grips you tightly. Your hands find themselves roaming over Nat’s body. She deepens the kiss when your hand brushes over her breast. Only a thin black tank top separates her body from your skin.

“Take it off,” Nat says, referring to her tank top.

You rise up from her and straddle her waist. Your hands find the end of the tank and pull the material over her head. That leaves her chest completely bare and there for you to see. You had seen her abs before when working out, but the entirety of her body was a mystery to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell her, breathless from her beauty. Your hands brush over her sides and the skin below her breasts.

Natasha’s cheeks blush a deep red at the intensity of how you’re looking at her. Not like you only want her for her body, but that you want her entirely. Body and heart and soul.

“I need you,” Natasha says. “I want you.”

Her words do nothing but increase the wetness you feel pooling between your legs. You kiss Natasha as your hands massage her breasts. She guides your mouth down to her nipples. You try to memorize the sounds she makes as you swirl your tongue around her nipples.

“Fuck,” Nat whimpers. “That feels so good.”

You glance up at her face to see her eyes closed and her head thrown back in pleasure. You’re doing something right. Your hand wanders down her stomach to her pajama shorts. Slipping your warm hand underneath the waistband, you find her lacy panties leave very little to your imagination.

“I want to see you, baby,” Natasha says.

Natasha takes your shirt hem in her hands and lifts it over your head. She practically growls at the sight of you. You kiss down her stomach and stop at her hips. She lifts her hips to assist you in taking off her shorts.

You throw those to the side haphazardly. You press soft kisses to her muscular thighs.

“I’ve always wanted to be between these,” you say, continuing to worship her thighs.

“Please,” Natasha says. “Make me feel good, detka.”

You comply. Taking the waistband of her panties in your deft fingers, you finally see Natasha’s aching core. She is dripping for you. Nothing could’ve prepared you for how good she feels, for how good she tastes.

“God, you’re so perfect,” you say as you lick through her wet folds.

Natasha quivers underneath your touch. She puts a hand on your head to pull you impossibly closer to her. She can’t comprehend how this is your first time together, but it all feels so natural. It feels like you’ve got her pleasure memorized.

You continue to lick her pussy and use your fingers to work in tandem, bringing her dangerously close to the edge quickly. When you take her clit between your lips, she doesn’t try to hold back anymore.

Natasha lets out the most beautiful moans as she comes hard against you. Her entire body reacts to the pleasure you’re bringing her.

“Oh god,” Natasha whimpers once she has somewhat come down.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, moving to lay next to her.

“I’m really good,” Nat replies. She smiles at you. You take a mental picture of how beautiful she looks in this moment.

You can’t help but kiss her. She positions herself to be on top of you this time. Nat takes your breasts in her hands. She is rougher than you were, but it feels so good.

“Natasha,” you whimper when her fingers work over your nipples.

“Relax, detka. I’ll take care of you,” Natasha says. Her voice has never been more attractive.

She pulls your pants and underwear off of you as she kisses down your body. She savors every inch of you. The anticipation is over when she rubs your pussy with her hand.

“Fuck,” you mumble.

“You’re so wet for me, baby. Such a good girl,” Nat says.

She moves her fingers through your folds and collects the wetness before she dips her fingers into you further.

“So wet and tight, fuck,” Natasha says. Her voice vibrates against your core.

You let yourself indulge in the feeling of her touch. And that touch expertly makes you feel so good. You move your hips to meet the thrusts of her fingers.

“Nat, I’m going to come,” you say.

“Come for me, y/n. Show me how good you feel, sweet girl.”

You completely fall apart under her touch and at her words. You’ve never felt so good in your life. Natasha works you through your high until you’re too sensitive for her to continue.

She lies next to you and kisses your head when you rest your head on her shoulder. You kiss her bare collar bone in response.

“That was amazing,” you state the obvious.

“It was,” Nat agrees. “I’m glad we waited for the perfect moment.”

“Me too, babe. What a way to wake up,” you say, a dreamy sigh follows.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah, Nat?”

“I’m falling in love with you,” Natasha admits.

You turn to see her face. Her eyes are glassy.

“I’m falling in love with you too, Natasha Romanoff,” you say.

Nat kisses you deeply and you both crave more. She hears her phone ring but ignores it, opting to send Steve a text that she’s not feeling well and won’t be at training.

You never imagined you would ever feel this sure of anything. But Natasha Romanoff is a sure thing. You can’t wait to love her forever.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut

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chrisdr3 · 2 months

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The hat rule ~ DR3

Smut

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 20), virgin!reader, piastri!reader

Summary: Daniel teaches Oscar's little sister the meaning of the cowboy hat rule.

It was the second GP you went with Oscar to see him. You liked Formula 1 very much but you couldn't keep up with Oscar's races, because of your studies for uni and the long flights that had you jet lagged for days, even when you liked to travel around the world.

Austin was a beautiful place, just like the western movies you watched as a little girl. Back then, there were two things you were obsessed with: Formula 1 and western movies. Especially because Oscar watched it intensely and you always copied him, like a shadow.

You started liking it even more when Daniel got into the sport. You maybe had a teeny tiny little crush on him. So tiny, that you had pictures and posters of him all over your room. A little crush that made you nearly cry when he got disqualified and yell from happiness when he won. A crush that lasted for years.

You had met Daniel before, back when Oscar was a reserve driver in Alpine. He was fun and flirted way more than you expected. When you met him again in Melbourne, in the Australian GP, you had a great time with him, and he wouldn't stop flirting, giving you a spark of hope he might like you, even a little bit. That spark of hope turned into a flame in Austin. It was the time to make a move, using both of your love for America and cowboys.

After qualifying, all the drivers decided to go out for food and a drink. No one really knew good places to go, so y'all went on a western-style steakhouse that Daniel suggested, claiming it had the best steak in all of Austin. When you got there, you immediately agreed with him. It was exactly like a saloon, from the cutlery and tables to the decorations on the walls. It even had a mechanic bull, which you were really eager to try out.

You sat in a booth with Oscar, George and Max, having Daniel, Lando and Logan sitting in the table in the opposite of yours. As you were eating a bit of Oscar's steak, you were glimpsing at their table, looking away when Daniel's stare was catching yours. At some point, a chick approached their table, sitting next to Daniel.

You couldn't stop staring, holding back anger mixed with tears. She was sitting on his lap as they talked. As you were looking, you noticed that she was constantly trying to take his hat multiple times, but Daniel wasn't letting her, so she left after a while and Daniel's stare fell in yours, as if you were a magnet.

You turned your gaze away and continued talking with the others, trying really hard to ignore him. At some point, George left, saying that he was tired, leaving an empty seat next to you. You didn't really pay any attention to that and continued discussing, nat noticing Daniel sitting next to you.

You felt something being placed on your head, but didn't give much attention. The talking stopped and you raised your head from your plate, looking at Oscar's shocked face. You put your hand in your head, only to realise that you had a hat on. And it was a cowboy one.

You turned around only to see Daniel, a smirk plastered on his face. "H-hi" "Hi, Y/N. Do you mind me sitting with you?" "N-no." You responded, blushing. Everything then went back to normal. At least for the others. As everyone was talking, Daniel's hand slithered in your thigh, resting on it, rubbing his thumb there. You couldn't hold your blush, your face red like a tomato. You continued talking till it got really late and the others decided to leave.

As you got up, Daniel held your hand. "Wait, I gotta talk to you." You immediately looked at Oscar, asking for approval silently. He nodded positively, then left. You turned back to Daniel. "What is it?" He cupped your cheek with his hand. "Do you know what is the cowboy hat rule?" "Erm...no?" "Let me explain it to ya then." He raised your chin with his index finger, his eyes meeting yours. "You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy, babygirl." The next moment, his lips were in yours, kissing you hungrily, yet with passion.

When you pulled away, he grabbed your hand. "Let's go somewhere private, baby." He left some money on the table and took you to his car. You went in and speeded to his hotel, which was apparently the same that you and Oscar were staying.

You ran to his room, kissing like lovesick teens, kissing as he opened the door. As you were inside, he pulled away. "Go to the bed and strip for me, babygirl." You obeyed and went to the bed, stripped out of your dress, staying with only your panties on, waiting for him.

He came to the bedroom some minutes later, only a towel hanging loosely around his hips, hair wet and his chain resting on his chest. He let his towel fall in the floor as he got closer to you, cupping your breasts. "I said strip babygirl, you should really learn to obey." He growled, ripping it apart. "Get up." He ordered. Daniel then laid down in the bed, his back resting on the headboard, and he made you straddle his waist, then put his hat back to your head.

"Now, ride me like the good girl you are." You hesitated for a moment, looking away. His face softened rapidly as he looked at you. "What's wrong sweetheart?" "I'm a virgin..." You mumbled, looking away embarrassed. "Then I'll take it slow, and if you wanna stop, pinch me." "Okay." You sat in silence for a bit as he wore a condom. "Ready?" He rubbed your thigh. You nodded yes. "Then come ride me, princess."

He positioned you right above his dick and helped you sink in slowly, holding your hands gently. You squeezed them feeling the pain overwhelm your body. "Take your time princess." He spoke softly. He rubbed your thighs, helping you soothe the pain. As you felt better, you started bouncing up and down his cock, progressively increasing speed. His dick was hitting your g-spot brutally, making you try hard not to scream.

"You're taking me so good babygirl, well done." He praised, his hands sneaking to your butt, squeezing it. After a bit, you felt a knot in your stomach. "D-danny, I'm close..." You didn't stop riding him, reaching your high rapidly. When you reached your edge, Daniel let go of your butt. "Cum for me baby, show me how much of a good girl you are." You came undone, letting out a breathy moan, exhausted.

Daniel helped you to pull out and laid you down on the bed. He then went to the bathroom, took out his condom, cleaned himself and came back to you with a warm towel. He cleaned you up gently, kissing your thighs in the process. He then threw the towle somewhere in the floor and wore a pair of boxers.

Meanwhile, you were laying in the middle of the bed, limbs stretched out like a starfish, in the bliss and sleepiness of your first ever orgasm. You didn't even complain when he laid behind you and pulled you in his arms, one hugging your waist and the other cupping your breasts.

"You did very well for a first time, princess." He whispered. "Thanks..." You mumbled, trying really hard to keep your eyes open. He noticed it and kissed your head, pulling the blanket over your bodies. "Goodnight babygirl, I love you." "I love you too, Danny..." You responded, a hint of happiness in your voice. You then drifted off to sleep in his arms, knowing that the man you were crushing over all these years, loved you back. Worrying about Oscar will have to wait.

Taglist: @pinkswaet @dilemmaontwolegs @thef1diary @changetyre

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo #formula one #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo f1 #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic

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theharddeck · 5 months

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start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come…”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

tag list: @cheekymcgrath @laracrofted @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @hangmanssunnies @callsignspark @lewmagoo @mxgyver @sebsxphia @daggerspare-standingby @ryebecca @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanbrainrot @sometimesanalice @wildbornsiren @whoeverineedtobe @clancycucumber230 @javihoney and i think a couple folks have changed their URLS, so please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #misskielwrites

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scarlethexelove · 4 months

Note

Can you please do a part 2 for we'll keep you safe. Maybe some nice domestic bliss. Maybe someone tries to ruin that.

Save You

Found on google

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2786

Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, Pregnant reader, Mentions of Birth, Assault (On Reader), Torturish (Being strapped down), Murder (Well Deserved), some fluff.

Part 1 We'll Keep You Safe

A/N: This one was fun to write. I liked coming up with idea's and enjoyed writing this. So I hope that everyone likes it. Definitely some touchy things with Reader being hit but nothing too bad. Really please enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The sound of popping and sizzling can be heard as the bacon is being cooked on the stove. You're mindlessly watching it cook, checking if the bacon is ready to flip or not. Arms wrap around your waist lifting your swollen stomach lightly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. A body pressing against you and kissing your neck. “Mmm fuck.” You lean into the body behind you. “Feel good detka?” Natasha asks from behind you. “Yes” You breathe out. Natasha kissing your shoulder and neck gently.

“She has been hanging pretty low and I feel like I’m ready to pop.” You sigh the soft moment between you and one of your wives. This is your second pregnancy and it has been a rough one. “You need to relax and get off your feet.” Natasha says trying to guide you away from the stove but you're stubborn. You need to flip the bacon so that is what you do. “I need to finish cooking breakfast.”

Both of your attentions are pulled away when you hear the patter of three quick footsteps. You look down the hall seeing Wanda chasing after the twins. “Come here you little rascals.” Wanda says scooping Billy into her arms but not quite able to catch Tommy. Billy lets out a giggling squeal as Wanda kisses all over his face. You break out into a wide grin watching the adorable interaction. She notices you smiling, setting the boy down and wrangling them into the kitchen.

“Sit down boys, breakfast will be done soon.” You lean down kissing both their heads as they wrap around your legs nudging Natasha back a bit. “Ok Momma.” The boys say in unison as they quickly scramble into their chairs. Wanda gently pecks your lips before ushering for you to sit down with the boys. “You relax, I'll finish here.” You try to stop her but Natasha picks you up making you let out a squeal. “Natty put me back down. I was almost done. I can finish it. I’m pregnant, not broken.” You try to argue with your wifes but they have none of that. “Sit, relax, we have this.” Natasha tells you as she sets you down in your seat. You huff crossing your arms. “Fine.” You give them a small pout. Nat leans down kissing your pout and then your head as she moves to keep the twins entertained while Wanda finishes cooking.

You smile fondly as you watch Nat playing with the twins. Thinking of how you got here. What your life was like before they saved you. Some time after they took you from your wife they set you down to explain everything. Turns out they were the Avengers. You thought maybe it was a coincidence but was surprised to find out. Your so-called ex-wife was their mission. Turns out she was an assassin just like Natasha. You were her cover. All of it was fake, well of course all of it but the beatings you got from the woman. They were tasked to bring her in to help take down the red room. But they had fallen for you and when they saw what she had done to you that day they weren’t going to let it go so easily. Your ex put up a good fight but she was no match for Wanda, ending in her being killed.

And that is how you ended up here with the best life you could have imagined. Two beautiful wives, two beautiful boys, and a little girl on the way. Your wives had retired from being Avengers shortly after you gave birth to the boys. Wanting to be around for you and the kids. Your life is perfect.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it.” You say as you use the table to help you lift yourself up. “Detka.” Wanda tries to warn you. “You are cooking and Nat is playing with the boys. I can open a door.” She relents, nodding her head to you. You make your way to the door, opening the door to find a woman standing there. “Hi, can I help you?” You ask the unfamiliar woman at the door. She says nothing as she quickly jabs a needle in your neck. Her hand clasping over your mouth to muffle any cries that would come out. The world around you starts to spin as your body feels heavy. Your vision fades black until your body drops.

You feel groggy and your head is heavy as it hangs down. You blink your eyes open, lifting your head up. You try to move but your hands and feet are strapped to a table that has you upright. Your vision is blurry as you try to focus your eyes. Soon enough a man comes into focus. The man is taller than you, round face, gray hair, and glasses. He gives you a sinister grin as you focus on him. Your body is still feeling heavy. “Wh-who are you?” You mutter out. “Hmm I’m surprised my little widow didn’t tell you all about me.” The man chuckles. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he is. He watched you curiously to see if you could figure it out. But that is when it hits you. Natasha has told you about her life. Her life before the Avengers. “Dreykov.” You spit out his name like it is poison on her tongue. His grin just grew with approval.

“So she does talk about me.” He says with a vote of arrogance. If you could, you would punch him in the throat. Beat him until he black and blue on the floor no longer breathing. But your restraints prevent you from even touching him. He can see the fire in your eyes and the desire to hurt him. He leans in close enough for you to smell his breath and feel it fan against your face. “I want what was taken from me and you're going to give it to me.”

A wave of confusion washes over your face. He watches you with the smile never leaving his face. You think it over, does he want Natasha back? What can you do for him to do that? Will she come try and rescue you and sacrifice herself to save you. You have no clue what it could be. He gives you a little bit before speaking up again. “My precious widow left me. She had the perfect genetics to be the perfect widow. Highly skilled and one of the most efficient widows ever to go through the program.” He pauses scratching his chin. “But as an Avenger she won’t be so easily controlled anymore and I can’t risk the exposure. So I’ll settle for something, rather someone else.” His eyes travel down to your stomach before looking back into your eyes. Your stomach turns at the realization. A wave of sickness overtakes you as you feel like you're going to throw up and you almost do.

“Y-you can’t.” Tears start to well in your eyes. But the man doesn’t care, he is satisfied by your reaction. You don’t know how he knows that the baby is Natasha’s and that you're having a girl. Have they been watching you this whole time? Waiting for the right opportunity to strike. “I’m taking what I lost. She will be a part of a new age of widows. Enhanced, stronger and faster than ever.” He places his hand on your stomach and you fight against the restraints. “Get your fucking hands off of me you filthy disguesting pig.” You seeth. He slaps you across the face hard. The sting setting in as tears run down your cheeks. “My wives are going to find you and when they do they are going to gut you like the pig you are. You will never have my baby.” His actions are not stopping you.

This time he lands a punch on your face. Your head whipping to the side. You look back at him smiling, blood running from the cut in your lips onto your teeth turning them a shade of red. “You think I can’t take a punch. Your other pathetic widow did it for you and hits harder than you. You weak pathetic man. Looks like you don’t even care that she is gone.” The man seethes at your words landing a few more punches. He stops your blood coating his knuckles as he takes out a white handkerchief. Gently wiping the blood off as he looks back up to you. “She was weak and deserved what she got.”

You're not surprised by the man's words or reactions. Natasha said how short tempered the man was. You don’t know why you chose to talk back to him. Maybe in hopes that when Natasha and Wanda find you that they see you and kill him right on the spot. They have done it once for you and you hoped they would do it again.

“Get comfortable, you're going to be here awhile.” He chuckles heading towards the door, knowing that in your position there is no way to get comfortable, only pain. “Hey fuck face. Your widow took me before I could eat some food and if you want my baby she needs food which means I need food.” You try to reason with him in some hopes of food. “Fine.” He waves his hand as he exits the room. Knowing that you are right as much as he would love to starve you to death instead. He then thinks maybe that will be what he does after you have given birth.

A few minutes later a widow walks in a bowl in her hand. You can see the contents and they look like slop. Is this what Natasha had to always eat? Nasty slop that isn’t meant for human consumption. She walks closer to you not speaking words but holding up the spoon to your lips. You hesitantly take the lumpy food in your mouth. It is bland with a horrible texture but you need to eat something. You just hope your girls make it here quick.

Natasha and Wanda don’t take long to know you’re gone. They watch the camera’s to see that a woman has taken you and Natasha knows exactly who was behind it. She sees red. She is going to take him down once and for all. She won’t stop until all the widows are freed from under this tortuous man.

They drop the kids off with Clint and Laura saying they will be back soon. “Mommy, Mama please don’t go.” Billy protests holding on tightly to Wanda. The boys don’t understand what is going on and where you are but if you're gone they don’t want them to leave either. “Mommy and Mama have to go save Momma.” Wanda kisses his head. “We will be back soon, I promise.” She tells the boys. Tommy is clinging to Natasha and she kisses his head. “Mommy and me love you very much and so does Momma. But some bad people took Momma and we need to go help her. Can you two be good for Uncle Clint and Aunt Laura for us. We promise to give you a big surprise when we get home with Momma.” Natasha explains. The boys nod their heads with tears in their eyes. Both women take turns giving each boy a hug and a kiss on the forehead before heading out.

Natasha makes a few calls and enlist the help of her sister Yelena, her adopted mother and father Melina and Alexi. All of them vowing to take the red room down once and for all. Melina has the access to get them into the red room. So they use that to their advantage.

You don’t know how long you have been locked up here. Your body aches painfully still strapped to the bed. A widow comes in periodically to feed you before leaving again. You tried to talk to them before but they stayed silent the whole time. You’re starting to lose hope that Wanda and Natasha are going to find you. Scared that Dreykov will get exactly what he wanted. To take your daughter and to form her into the most deadly widow of all time. Your cheeks are bruised and swollen as tears run down them. Your face is covered in dried crusty blood. They only bother to feed you and nothing else. You don’t want your daughter to grow up in this world and you know that neither of your wives would either, especially Natasha.

Alarms blare as you hear explosions erupting from various points around the structure. There are more sounds of explosions, bullets, and movement of people on the other side of the door. You hear some fighting directly outside of your door. You don’t know if you should be excited or scared of what is to come. Soon the door slams open and a Blonde enters. She quickly shuts the door, holding a hand up to her ear. “I found her. East wing behind a large wooden door.” She then meets your eyes making fast movements towards you and she starts to undo your restraints. “Who are you?” You question the blonde as she undoes your ankles. “My name’s Yelena. Natasha is my sister and I’m here to help you.” She stands up undoing your wrist. “Nat has a sister.” You look at her a little hurt that you didn’t know. “Adopted sister, we were in the red room together.” She undoes your last restraint. Your legs giving out under you, Yelena quickly catches you in her arms and gently gets you to the ground.

The door slams open and you see a frantic Natasha with Wanda behind her. Behind the both of them you see Dreykov wrapped in Wanda’s magic struggling to try and get free. But his attempts are futile. They both rush forward and see the condition you're in. Natasha takes you from Yelena and pulls you tightly into her arms. “I’m so sorry Y/n. I promised to keep you safe and I failed.” You can hear her sniffling as you bury your head in her neck. “You saved me.” Was all you could murmur out.

Wanda looks back at Dreykov, more red swirling in her eyes. Her magic wrapped up to his neck before snapping it. The sickening sound of the crack before her magic dissipates and his body slams to the ground making a thud. You jump a bit at the sound. But Natasha shushes you, rubbing your back. Soon Wanda is by your side as you start sobbing in relief. Wanda wrapping her arms around the both of you as you feel safe again in their arms.

Your relief is cut short as sharp pain is felt in your stomach before you feel a gush of liquid between your legs. With the pain you were having all over you glossed over the repeating pain in your stomach. “Oh shit!” is all you hear from Nataha, the liquid also soaking into her lap. “What?” Wanda questions before Yelena cuts in. “Guys, we need to get a move on. This place is going down soon.” But you ignore Yelena’s words. “I think my water just broke.” You say as another wave of pain hits you. “My water definitely broke” You groan gripping onto Natasha. “Oh shit!” You hear collectively from the three women.

Natasha picks you up and carries you. Making your way out of the exploding base. Once you’re all outside you can see that you're up in the air and you're making your way towards a quinjet. Your contractions get closer together as you groan in pain. The women getting you and other women onto the ships to get everyone off safely. Melina and Alexi had freed the widows on the ship and were able to get the locations off the others around the world to release them from the red rooms' control.

Once everyone is on the ships the Quinjet takes off. You’re not going to be able to make it safely back to your home or a hospital in time to have your baby. So with the help of Melina and Yelena you safely deliver your baby girl. Not without some yelling at your wives that they did this to you but they hold your hands and support you through all of it. Adding not just Liliya to the family but also Yelena, Melina, and Alexi. Your family grew larger than you expected it to today but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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corporatepridez · 7 months

Text

Mutual 1: (An extremely extensive post detailing their trauma on their secret blog)

Mutual 1: (A picture of the soup they finished making) Eeatting penis soup grab a bowl

Mutual 2: (Cropped batman yaoi) This scene was so compelling in the comics qnd established so much for Bruce Waynes character as a bottom

Mutual 3: Just updated my comic (it is one of the most compelling pieces of narrative youve ever read. Its based off of a bad game)

Mutual 4: Ngl this omegaverse gacha life youtube video is more compelling than most shows i watch

Mutual 5: Finally cocking out i swear if one more thing happens today i will snap

Mutual 6: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 7: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 8: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 9: This yak tranquilizer weak af

Mutual 10: Come make my sinister potion (posts how to make a pipebomb)

Mutual 11: Do i get plastic surgery and change my name and move to a different country y/n (poll is in favor of yes by a huge margin)

Mutual 12: Mutual 13 is a lying fucking piece of trash and i think they should drop dead. They live at 308 Negra Aroya Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104 and im going to record me beating the shit out of them

Mutual 13: Aww my bestie is coming to visit me soon :]

(Mutual 12 and 13 are dating)

Mutual 14: who tf does she think she is (posts a sc of mutual 8 from three url changes ago. It is mutual 8 saying theyre going to the park)

Mutual 15: So in my latest session in dnd we rolled 1d12 for dick size and i rolled a nat 20 and idk what to do with this reponsibility now

Mutual 16: he looks so good im going to scream (a screenshot where said character is so far in the background he doesnt even have a face)

Mutual 17: eho up thinking about the moral dillemma presented in pokemon go

Mutual 18: take a look at my ocs :D (mona lisa if dhe was gay)

Mutual 19: i hadba really good day today i got to spend some time bonding with my entire family and we got to celebrate something we havent had the time for in 37 years

Mutual 20: (reblogging mutual 19) L + Don't care + 632146K~P PRC, dl.2146K~P, 5K > 2146K~P, 5K > JF 2146K~P, 2H, WS ([4]6H->P), 623H

Mutual 21: (Blurry photo of them running from police) they're after me for my stash kf yaoi cocaine

Mutual 22: (Miles long RP chain they started 2 months ago. You have post notification on for them because its awesome)

Mutual 23: Discussing the morality of liking bananas over mangoes

Mutuals 24 ans 25: having a dramatic wedding where theyre acting as a crack ship. They're on the verge of divorce

Mutual 26: She winding onbmy waker (is in the middle of intense controversy)

Mutual 27: (Callout for mutual 26)

Mutual 28: If Mutual 17 asked i would give them a sloppy toppy

Mutual 29: Anon get out of my inbox before j block you his ass is NOT flat. (His ass is fucking concave)

Mutual 30: Shes just like me fr (a picture kf a shopping cart)

#textbox

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jedi-luca · 1 year

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Something’s in the Air - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk (graphic image inside)

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you.

Reader has a penis; no pronouns used.

Part 1 can be found on @dirtyvulture page

3 Hours Later

“We should probably get out of here.” You chuckled looking at the destroyed hospital bed before looking back at your girlfriend. She was looking at you in a way that simultaneously scares and turns you on. “Nat?” You croak feeling her clench you.

“Oh we’re not going anywhere.” Natasha used the sheer power of her thighs to straddle you. “I need you Y/N. So badly it’s like I'm in pain without you inside of me.”

“Babe, we've been going at it for like 3 hours now. I want breakfast and sleep.”

“I need you so badly it hurts.” She mewled, rocking her push against your flexing abs.

“Maybe Dr. Cho has an antidote to this exposure.” You say, hating the thought of her in pain. “Give me a chance to get hard again. Get on my face.” you say already pulling her by the hips.

Natasha eagerly turned around lowering her hips. She needed to squirt and when she relented control she would be shaking, eyes rolling to the back of her head, Russian words fleeting her lips because she can’t even distinguish English from Russian. She shook with anticipation, feeling your lips kissing her thighs.

You swiped your tongue causing the ex-assassin to let out a long moan as she felt your lips wrap around her bud. You enter her with two fingers making her gasp. Her hips were rocking roughly against your mouth and fingers. You kept one hand against her abdomen.

Your voluptuous girlfriend looked down at your semi. Her mouth salivated. She was embarrassed to say she definitely drooled a bit on you before lifting your member, and fully stuffing you down her throat.

You groaned, sending vibrations against her clit causing Natasha to moan. Sending the same vibrations with you down her throat. She could feel your abs flexing and your toes stretching. It always made her unbelievably wet when she made you moan or twitch. She gasped feeling your fingers tapping inside of her. Winding up her coil in a way only you know how.

Meanwhile outside the door of an Un-soundproofed room

“Bruce you know how I feel about bringing your work in here.” Steve furrows his brows walking into the kitchen seeing Bruce and Cho typing on their laptops. Test tubes along the table.

“Yeah Natasha and Y/N are occupying that area at the moment.” He chuckled, taking his glasses off looking at a giggling Cho.

“Well then just move them!” Steve huffed before turning on his heel.

“Cap, I don't recommend going that way.” Cho and Bruce said in unison.

“Why?” He huffed.

“Natasha was exposed to a hydra chemical.” Doctor Cho said with a sigh. “We’re trying to find an antidote now.”

“Oh well I’ll go check on her.”

“Cap, Y/N is with her.” Bruce said, looking at him in a way Steve couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh good, I needed to talk to Y/N anyway.” He smiled Before Cho or Bruce could say another word Steve was going up the stairs and down the hall.

“This should be good.” Tony cackled watching him go up as he brought his team an iced coffee and a boom box that dummy was carrying.

Steve stopped in his tracks the moment he heard the moaning and ran back down. “They’re doing it.” He said cringing as running past them.

“Oh I can’t make this shit up.” Tony laughed before blaring some AC DC.

Back in the medbay

“Y/N.” She breathes out, popping you out of her mouth suddenly. Natasha’s mouth went agape feeling a great pressure in her core before feeling herself release into your mouth like a waterfall. “Oh my God yessss.”

Natasha moved away from your mouth and gripped you with her hand.

“Fuck baby.” You both moaned as she slid her velvet walls down your shaft.

“You feel sooooo good.” Natasha gasped, placing one hand on your chest and the other on your thigh. Using momentum to rock her hips. “So good, so good!” She chanted rocking and rocking until she quivered above you. Squelching sounds of your combined fluids filled the room, and the pristine crisp smell of clean chemicals was long gone. The only smell was the scent of sex.

You caught her before she fell against your chest. You could see tears in her eyes as her pussy convulsed around you. “I love you so much.” She cried against your forehead.

“I love you too baby. So much.” You say softly in her ear before taking her wrists behind her back with one hand. The other hand wraps around her throat as you thrust up.

“Yeah! Ooooh!” She lets out a throaty groan trying to meet your thrusts. Wiggling and circling her hips. She was so wild, more so than when you were both stuck on an island for 3 weeks.

You moan pulling out quickly causing Natasha to clench around nothing. “No back inside.” She muttered trying to grip you, but you sat up with her in your lap. You slip back inside of her.

“Yes!” She cries out gasping for air kissing you with both hands roughly before breaking gasping for breath. She chanted yes as you suckled on her neck her breathing picking up and her hips rocking faster and faster.

Natasha hooks her arm around you moaning as she arches back, throwing back her hair. “Fuck.” She groans using her other arm to help with momentum. You trail your lips from the nape of her neck down to her rosy nipples. Squeezing and sucking leaving marks in your wake.

You can feel the pressure inside of her. She's so close. Her clit is hitting your flexed abs with every rock she makes. Your hands felt like they were everywhere and your lips and tongue took a hold of her. The red head wrapped both arms around you squeezing you as she came apart. You could feel the rush of liquid and drops of her tears against your skin. “Ooh fuck ohhh Y/N it feels so good!” She cried against your neck. “It feels - so fucking good.” She moaned humping you over and over again as her orgasim continued.

You grunted pulling out before you exploded.

“Fuck Nat!” You say throwing her around until she was on all fours dripping like a fire hydrant. She loved when you were at this stage almost like a caveman. She loved how tiny she is compared to you. She looked back looking at the way your muscles gleamed with sweat. The veins running down your abs to your thick cock made her impossibly even hornier.

“You’re so insatiable.” You pant, sweat running down your body.

She whined.

“Get back inside.” She whimpered against the pillow with her ass up in the air.

“Don’t be a brat baby.” You say gruffly slapping her ass before palming her ass cheeks.

She whined. “Please keep going, don't stop.”

You slap her ass a few times before sheathing yourself deep inside of her.

“Yes, yes, oh Y/N, don’t stop! Don’t ever fucking stop.” She moaned, meeting your harsh thrusts. She could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away when you held her back letting your hands massage her.

You felt Natasha reach below her body to massage her clit meeting your thrusts as you railed into her.

“You like that baby?”

She groans in response, drooling on her pillow as her pussy convulses around you. You slap her ass at her lack of response. “Yes! Oh so much! So much. I’m so close.”

You began drilling your hips faster and faster against her favorite spot.

“Just like that! Just like that! Don’t stop! Don’t stop im so close! Im so close.”

You could feel your own release nearing. You grunted drilling faster and harder than before making your girlfriend speak in Russian begging for you to keep going.

“Oh fuck Nat this is it baby I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Let go baby, fill me up.” She spoke in her mother tongue. “I'm so ready.” you felt her convulse knowing she was near and so were you.

You groaned shooting ropes and ropes of your seed deep within her womb. “Fuck!” You both moaned loudly when the door opened. You were too busy twitching inside Natasha to see Maria walk inside with two syringes in her hands.

“Go to sleep.” Was the last thing you heard the woman say before you and Natasha pass out.

40 hours later

You and Natasha stirred awake at the same time.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” You grinned sleepily as you brought her over closer to you.

“Hmm, good morning my love.” She giggled feeling you pepper her face with kisses.

“It’s actually 9:30PM on a Tuesday evening.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

You and Nat look at one another with wide eyes as the sex marathon comes to mind.

“Would you like to hear a voice memo from Maria Hill?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. Asks.

“Yes.” You sighed.

“Natasha you were exposed to sex pollen which is why you two were having a sex marathon in the medbay which is destroyed by the way. I took you both off missions for the rest of the week. Rest up bitches.”

“The team is going to hold this over our heads for years.” Natasha groaned.

“…Eh…Worth it.” You shrugged, laughing when she smacked your chest before giggling herself.

“You’re terrible.”

“But you love me.” You shrug, smirking.

“I do.” She sighs snuggling into you. Her ass wiggling against your crotch.

“Watch it babe don’t start a fire you can’t put out.”

“My ass isn’t sore. Wanna make it sore?” She smirked looking back at you.

This woman was going to be the death of you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x g!preader #@dirtyvulture

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gunsandspaceships · 3 months

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Proof that Tony Stark is bisexual in the MCU

It is known that 616 Tony is bisexual. If you didn’t know – here’s the page from “Tony Stark: Iron Man (2018) #4”.

But is MCU Tony also bisexual? Let’s find out.

The Avengers:

0:43:10 - seems that Tony watched Rogers' movements at the end of his fight with Loki and liked what he saw.

1:10:08 - “Back off”.

2:08:30 – Sleeping Beauty.

Age of Ultron:

1:52:35 – Rhodey and Tony being a “couple”.

2:10:30 – Nat’s remark.

Civil War:

0:59:50 – huh?

Infinity War:

0:14:35 - Tony didn't know that was Levi.

0:17:08 – Tony noticed Strange’s hair moving.

0:19:15 - Strange's flirting and Tony's reaction.

1:18:50 – Tony and Strange are gazing into each other’s eyes and holding hands.

1:23:45 – again.

Endgame:

0:09:25 – Rogers’ face btw. Is he jealous here?

1:16:30 - Tony is staring at the America’s ass.

1:17:30 – Tony flicks Scott's butt.

1:20:00 – Tony is 100% okay with having a man inside him. Literally.

So what do we have?

He is comfortable touching men and being touched, even if he barely knows them. Even if it’s very gay.

He openly jokes about “gay” things.

He gazes into the eyes of both Steves, and Steves gaze back. Like, pretty often. Even Nat noticed this little habit.

He looks at men. Body, hair, ass. And he doesn’t hide it. That’s not so straight, I’d say.

Conclusion: Tony is bi. He is not latent, not really hidden one, just already in an established relationship with a woman and is faithful to her. He seems to be attracted to some guys though (we can see this towards Rogers and Strange).

Marvel shows it to us, and that’s actually the best we could get here. Because, unfortunately, the real international movie business is not yet ready for Iron Man to have a boyfriend. At least we can say he is canonically bisexual.

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justkending · 13 days

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)

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

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2700+

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

_____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________________

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

Showtime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marvel Tags:

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

My Lovelies forever:

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

Bucky Barnes Tags:

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

#bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader miniseries #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert #mcu reader inserrt #marvel series #bucky barnes series

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 1 month

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1.3 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 3.1k

Previously On...: Bucky got his first glimpse of you.

A/N: Accidentally posted this to the wrong blog. Apologies!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were having so much fun getting better acquainted with Nat and Wanda that you didn’t even notice when the pool game broke up and its players meandered over to join you. Nat made quick work of introducing you to everyone, and you were fortunate most of them were so famous, you already knew their names, otherwise you would have been lost in a whirlwind of new faces.

Everyone was exceedingly friendly as you went around shaking hands– Peter (that was the first name of the boy Nat had called ‘Parker’) was entirely too enthusiastic in his handshake, but it was endearing, all the same. Thor bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, and you were almost positive you saw Wanda swoon by proxy out of the corner of your eye. Steve’s handshake was firm, but basic (‘boring,’ you couldn’t help but hear Wanda’s voice say in your head), and Sam was brazen and went in for a kiss on the cheek– not that you minded in the least.

When it came time for you to be officially introduced to Bucky, you found yourself practically tingling with anticipation. God, he was even better looking up close.

“Major,” Nat said, giving you a sly smile, “this is Bucky. Bucky, this is my friend, Major.” He took your hand in his, enveloping it, and the heat radiating from where your skin touched sent an electric current down your spine. “Major.” You watched the way his full, pink lips formed around the syllables, as if he was tasting your name, rolling it around in his mouth, something to be savored. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

You offered him a shy, half-smile that you hoped looked flirty and not cringe-inducing. “It’s really nice to meet you, too, Bucky.”

You smiled stupidly at one another before you realized you’d been holding hands for just a little too long. Reluctantly, you let go before you looked too weird.

“I’m Lily,” the petite blond woman you’d noticed him with earlier said, stepping forward slightly so that Bucky had to take a stumbling step back from you to make room for her.

“Watch it, Lil,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. “You almost bulldozed me over.”

The other woman flashed him a smile before turning back to you, her gaze now hardened. She took your hand and shook it firmly, almost aggressively.

“Major,” you said, matching her pressure with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

“Should we move this party to a booth?” Sam asked from where he stood a few feet away. “This table ain’t big enough for all of us.”

You had to agree– the high top you sat at with Nat and Wanda was not nearly large enough to accommodate your enlarged party. You all made your way to a back corner of the bar, where there was a large, circular booth available.

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Nat said, eyeing your group, “but I think we can manage it.” You all began awkwardly sliding in, and by some miracle (or Nat’s manipulation, you weren’t quite sure), you ended up pressed against Bucky on one side of you, and Sam on the other.

“Hi,” Bucky said shyly to you once everyone had gotten themselves settled.

“Hi,” you replied, trying so very hard, and failing, not to blush as he looked down at you with those beautiful blue eyes.

“So, Major,” Sam said from where he sat on your right, “how did you come to be friends with our Natasha?”

“Wow, wasting no time in interrogating the new girl, huh, Sam?” you asked him with a teasing grin.

“Hey, it’s not often we get such pretty new company in our midst,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Barnes was our last newbie, and he’s ugly as fuck.”

“Nat’s a customer of mine.” You ducked your head in the hope of hiding your blush at being called ‘pretty’ by an actual Avenger as Bucky shoved Sam over your head. “We’ve known each other… what? About half a year now, Nat?”

Natasha nodded. “Major owns her own business.”

“That’s really impressive,” said Bucky from your left. “It must be nice to be your own boss.”

You nodded. “It is. It’s stressful, but it’s also really freeing, really rewarding.”

From Bucky’s other side, Lily snickered. “Please,” she said, drawing attention to her. “Half the time these “women small business owners” are just morons who got sucked into an MLM; a pyramid scheme. So, which one is it, Major.” You didn’t like the way she sneered your name, but you opted to ignore it. “Herbalife? Beachbody? Oh god, don’t tell me it’s Mary Kay?” she giggled.

“Uh, no,” you said, feeling defensive, though you weren’t quite sure why. “I own a place called The WarZone?”

“Hold up,” said Peter enthusiastically. “Isn’t that the rage room by Sunset Park?” You nodded, pleased to have someone recognize it. “That place is sick! You own it?!”

“Yeah,” you said, self consciously brushing back a piece of hair that had fallen into your face.

“Me and my friends go there sometimes on the weekends,” Peter chirped. “It’s awesome!”

“You’ll have to let me know when you visit next,” you said. “I’ll make sure to sign you and your friends up for the VIP package, no charge.”

Peter’s face was elated. “Seriously? You’d hook me up like that? Wow, you’re amazing!”

“Absolutely,” you shrugged your shoulders. “A friend of Nat’s…”

“Sorry,” said Steve, cutting in before Peter could continue to gush his thanks, “for those of us who were born before the invention of the television, or on another planet,” he cast a friendly nod to Thor, “what’s a ‘rage room?’

“Only the single greatest invention the Japanese ever came up with,” Nat said, throwing a wink at you. “So, like, imagine you’re angry. Like, fucking pissed. And you need to get all that shit out of your system. You go to a rage room, and you pay them money, and they give you a hammer, or a baseball bat, or whatever you want, and you just go to town smashing the shit out of everything you can get your hands on! It’s so much fun!”

“And you do this often, Natasha?” Thor asked, bemused smile crossing his big face.

“At least once a week,” she said. At her friends’ curious expressions, she raised an eyebrow. “What? You think you lot are all peaches to live with? You’re lucky I go as often as I do, or you’d all probably either be dead or violently maimed.”

“That… actually sounds amazing,” Bucky said, turning to smile at you. “I’d love to check it out sometime.”

You fought to keep the pleased grin from growing too wide across your face, when Lily spoke up. “Ick, but Jamie,” she said, “then we’d have to go all the way to Queens.”

“She’s got a location in Midtown, too,” Nat offered. “That’s the one I go to.”

“I can definitely set you up with a VIP time slot, if you’d want” you said to Bucky. “Just let me know when you’d like to come check it out.”

“That sounds great.” Bucky awkwardly maneuvered himself so he could pull his phone out of his back pocket. “Put in your number, and I can call you when I know when I’m going to be free.”

Oh, smooth, you thought as you took his phone from him. Very smooth, indeed. You couldn’t help but notice his phone wallpaper after you’d entered your contact info– it was a picture of him and Lily, smiling together in front of a giant Christmas tree, his arm around her shoulder, and both of hers wrapped around his waist. If Nat and Wanda hadn’t assured you otherwise, you would have sworn they were a couple just from looking at it.

You handed Bucky back his phone. “Here you go,” you said. “Just call whenever you’d like to set up a time.”

“So, the entire thing is just people coming in and destroying stuff?” Lily asked, confused. “I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t see how something like that can be lucrative enough for you to make a career out of it.”

“We do alright for ourselves,” you said, not feeling comfortable with discussing how much money your business brought in. It wasn’t enough for you to be making the cover of Forbes or anything, but you were far above comfortable now.

“Alright?” Nat asked, laughing. “You’ve got five locations in the tri-state area and are looking into opening a sixth! With at least thirty-five employees under you! I call that a bit more than ‘doing alright!’” You shrugged your shoulders demurely, though secretly basking in your friend’s praise.

“I can’t see how that kind of place could even make a profit,” Lily scoffed, “Let alone afford to pay that many people an actual living wage.”

“Indeed says starting salary there’s $75,000 a year, plus benefits,” Peter said, looking up from his phone. “Is that true, Ms. Major?”

You chuckled at his polite addition of a title to your name. “That’s starting, yeah,” you told him, and by extension, Lily. “But it’s more based on education and experience, plus you get an automatic raise after a 90 day probation period.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Well, aren’t you just the savvy businesswoman?” he asked with a smile. “Too bad we didn’t have Tony come out with us tonight; you two could have a lot to talk about.”

Holy shit, Tony Stark, you thought. You hadn’t even considered that knowing Nat might put you on the path to meeting someone like him. It was too fanciful to even imagine.

“Well, I don’t see the appeal of it,” Lily interjected, seemingly determined to find some sort of fault with your business. “It just seems so wasteful to me. Not very environmentally friendly at all.”

“You know, that’s actually an interesting point,” you said, leaning around Bucky to look at her. “We have contracts with the boroughs and cities we operate in, taking things that would normally go into landfills, like old tvs, furniture, china and glassware, stuff like that, and have people smash them to smithereens. It ends up taking less space in the dump when our clients are done with it, and we painstakingly go through everything that’s left to make sure whatever can get recycled or reused, does.”

Lily pouted, obviously displeased with your answer. “It just seems so… violent.” She wracked her body in an overly dramatic shiver.

“I can see why it would appear that way,” you said casually, “if you’re not familiar with them. Though there are studies that suggest it’s a really healthy outlet for expressing anger and getting stress relief."

“I just don’t understand the appeal,” she said finally, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“That’s okay,” you said, nonchalantly shrugging a shoulder. “It’s not for everyone, and that’s fine.” You shifted your focus back to Bucky and gave him a wink. “It’s a hell of a lot of fun, though.”

Bucky smiled and bit his bottom lip. “Sounds like it,” he said, a flirtatious glint in his eye. “Seems like a guy could get quite the workout doing something like that.”

“Oh,” you pressed your thigh firmly against his under the table, “it’s definitely my second favorite way to work up a sweat.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. “That so?” he asked. “Well, then, I guess I have no choice but to see how hot and bothered it gets me.”

“I think you’ll be very satisfied with it, Sergeant,” you said, and both of you knew you were no longer talking about his visit to The WarZone.

“Oh, I have no doubt it would be a mutually satisfying experience, doll,” he said. You bit your cheek to hide the smile that was threatening to escape your face.

“Jamie–” Lily began, trying to get Bucky’s attention back on her, but before she could continue speaking, Wanda spoke over her: “So, Major, I didn’t think to ask before, is that a nickname or what?”

You turned to the redhead and nodded. “Yeah,” you told the group. “My real name’s (Y/N), but my employees started calling me ‘Major’ when we first opened and they thought I was being too much of a hard ass,” you said. “It’s just kind of stuck since.”

“Wow,” said Lily, disdainfully. “It’s actually kind of disgusting that you go around calling yourself that.” At all the questioning looks that came her way, she put her hands up defensively. “What? Stolen valor is a real thing, you know. And it’s vile. You’re sitting here with two World War II veterans; you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Lily,” Bucky began chastising, “it’s fine, seriously; Steve and I don’t mind, do we Steve?”

Steve shook his head. “Of course not. It’s just a nickname.”

“It’s actually not,” you spoke up. All eyes turned to you, now. “When I graduated high school, I couldn’t afford to go to college, so I enlisted. I spent eleven years in the army, did three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan during the war,” you said. It wasn’t something you enjoyed talking about, so you always spared the details. “‘Major’s’ not just a nickname; it was my rank at retirement.”

The table was silent for a beat as everyone took in your words.

Until Sam broke it with a raucous laugh. “Holy shit, Cap” he said, slapping his knee. “New Girl out-ranks you!”

The tension that had built around the table at Lily’s accusation of stolen valor broke as almost everyone laughed at Sam’s comment, making jokes about how you would be the only one who could give Captain America orders. Only Lily remained unsmiling, looking down petulantly into her glass. Conversation naturally broke into smaller groups, then, and you were glad to have all the focus off of you.

“You know,” Bucky murmured, leaning down to talk directly into your ear, “you seem pretty amazing.” The way his lips brushed the shell of your ear sent a pleasing shiver down your spine.

“I’m just a regular girl,” you responded, feeling incredibly shy all of a sudden.

Bucky pulled back to take in your face. “Nah, I highly doubt that,” he said. “You strike me as something special.”

“You are quite the charmer, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, playfully pushing at his shoulder.

“It’s working, then?” he asked, smirking. “I’m charming you?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to mull over his words for a moment. “It’s still too early to tell,” you said eventually. “But I’ll let you know.”

Bucky’s grin was boyishly adorable, and you loved the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. You could stare into them forever, you found yourself thinking. Where had that come from? You’d only just met the man!

“Are you always such a flirt, Sergeant?” you asked, trying to keep yourself in check.

“Only when the girl’s exceptionally pretty, Major,” he winked. But then, a bit more seriously: “No– not always, not much at all, actually.”

“That’s a shame,” you told him. “You’re quite good at it. Seems like you’d be doing the ladies of the city a great disservice by not doing it more often.”

“Haven’t much felt the need to,” he said, and you had to hold in a gasp when you felt his hand land on your knee, his thumb tracing small circles into your covered skin. “Is this okay?” He whispered, looking up at you through his lashes. There was something inherently vulnerable in his gaze, as though he was fully expecting, yet terrified, for you to tell him no and to fuck off.

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly. There was something so sexy about the fact that he’d even asked, and you truly believed that, if you had told him no, it wasn’t okay, he would have immediately stopped and apologized.

One by one, the members of your party left the booth and made their way to the bar’s small dance floor. Soon, it was just you and Bucky. And Lily, of course, but you were trying very hard to not notice her and the angry expression she wore.

“You ever dance, Sergeant?” you asked, as you watched Wanda squeal with delight as Thor picked her up and spun her about.

“Oh, Jamie doesn’t dance,” Lily supplied for him, matter of factly. “He finds it ridiculous.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Ridiculous? Interesting.”

Bucky shot an annoyed look in Lily’s direction. “I never said it was ridiculous, doll,” he said to you. “Just… You know about me and Steve, right? How we’re…”

“Really old?” you offered with a teasing smile. “Positively geriatric?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “really old. We used to go to dance halls a lot when we were kids, back in the late ‘30s, early ‘40s. It was basically the thing to do. I danced all the time back then.”

You nodded, smiling at the image of a younger Bucky cutting across the floor, twirling a girl in his arms.

“My point is,” he continued, “the music now? I don’t know how to dance to that.” He jerked his chin toward where Nat and Sam were dancing– or more accurately, grinding– against one another. “It’s practically like speaking a foreign language.”

You considered his words. “I have an idea,” you said, sliding around to the edge of the booth and standing up. Bucky followed you with his eyes, expression curious, as you made your way over to the bar’s digital jukebox. Swiping your debit card, you quickly selected the song you wanted to play– something contemporary, but that still had a bass line, a vibe, that Bucky could relate to.

Once your selection was confirmed, you made your way back to the booth. You held out your hand to Bucky. “May I have this dance, Sergeant?” you asked.

Lily rolled her eyes. “What part of him not liking to dance don’t you understand?”

“Relax, Lil,” Bucky said, putting down the glass of bourbon he’d been nursing before sliding out of the booth to take your hand. “What kind of soldier would I be if I ignored a request from a superior officer?”

He beamed at you as you led him over to the dance floor, occasionally looking back at him bashfully.

“Holy shit, New Girl got Tin Man on the floor,” Sam called from where he was dancing with Nat. “Never thought I’d live to see the day!”

Bucky scowled at his friend before you turned to face him. He took both your hands in his and pulled you closer to him. “I really hope I don’t embarrass myself in front of you, doll,” he said with a smile.

“Just dance the way you like,” you said, enjoying the sensation of holding both his hands in yours, though you barely noticed the left one was gloved, “and I doubt that would even be possible. I’ll just follow your lead.”

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