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playbucky · 1 year

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Love, Honey.

Y/N is a stripper, and Bucky is a Mafia leader along with his friend Steve. When the pair of them come to the business to ask a deal with Natasha, Y/N’s business partner and best friend. A lot of history is being upturned. Characters – Reader, Bucky, Steve, Natasha. Word Count – 2.8k

‘Nat, we gotta do something about Richie.’ You said, pushing the door to your friends office, not noticing the two men lounging in the chair across from the redhead. ‘He’s grop -,’ ‘Y/N.’ Nat said sternly, you looked up making eye contact with her before Nat gestured to the men. You looked at them, smiling before turning back to her. ‘What are we going to do?’ You asked her, she arched an eyebrow smirking. ‘We can help?’ The blonde offered; you shook your head. ‘Thanks but we like to handle it in house.’ You told him, watching his blue eyes shine. ‘You can take care of him.’ Nat said, your head whipped around to her, the curls you had expertly put in your hair early wrapped around our neck. ‘Really?’ You asked hopeful, she snickered. ‘Yeah, let our guests see how the team works.’ She stated, you raised an eyebrow before turning, quickly walking away. You could hear the men’s heavier steps as your heels clicked, feeling their gazes on your back since you were wearing the black pants and matching bra, but had a sheer dress that didn’t leave anything to their imagination. You quickly marched across the busy room, ignoring the stares from the men and few women that watched your quick steps, in the dangerously high heels. ‘Y/N.’ Richie said, stretching his hand out at his sides, Peggy and Maria moved away from him, when they saw Nat a few steps behind you. ‘Richie.’ You said with a smile as you bent over him, keeping your legs straight giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. ‘What have we said about handling the woman?’ You asked, he smiled wider. ‘They like it, they always like being man handled.’ He said cockily, your tutted before standing up, lifting your foot. Resting your toes on the edge of the seat between his spread legs. His rough hand automatically wrapped around your calve. Taking a deep breath you smiled sweetly, reaching out with your opposite hand. Your fingers sliding through his shoulder length, greasy hair as he looked up at you. Grabbing his hair, you watched his pupils dilate before you yanked his head forward. It connected, with a snap, against your knee. ‘You bitch.’ He hissed, pulling away and cupping his, hopefully, broken nose. ‘You touch the girls again, I’ll break your nose then I’ll give your little man,’ you glanced to his crotch, ‘A new hole to pee out of.’ You finished, dropping your foot down onto the ground. ‘Understand?’ You asked him, he nodded before standing up and moving past her, scurrying past everyone else. ‘That was interesting.’ The blonde said, you turned back to them, then turned to the girls. ‘Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you?’ You asked, they shook their heads. ‘Good, take a breath, grab a drink on the house.’ You said, they nodded before slowly walking away. ‘Steve, James, I’d like you to meet, Honey, my -,’ ‘They just saw me threaten a man with my heel, you can tell them my name.’ You stated, Natasha arched an eyebrow. ‘Okay, fellas this is Y/N, my partner.’ Natasha said, the brunette man eyebrows furrowed as the blondes shot up, almost touching his forehead. ‘We were told you don’t have a partner.’ James said, Natasha smiled as she moved around to stand at your side ‘Y/N prefers to stay in the background, half of the money that went into this place is Y/N’s.’ Nat said, both the men looked at you. ‘So why do you dance?’ James asked. ‘Dancing since college, trying to make money but now…’ You told them, looking around the room. ‘Now I, we, help others. Give them better care than your nine to five jobs do.’ You stated, the men arched their eyebrows before nodding. ‘Do you need me to sit in the rest of the meeting?’ You asked, looking at Natasha before you both turned to Steve and James. ‘We want to go into business with you.’ Steve said, you titled your head, surprised at how forward he was. ‘Why?’ You asked, Nat gently whacked your bare arm. ‘What, two leaders come to us and show interest. Last time that happened, he who shall not be named tried to take over.’ Nat commented, James and Steve watched as Y/Ns eyes glazed over. ‘We don’t want to take over.’ James said, you arched an eyebrow. ‘Our plan is to take all your buildings under our name, still working together but we want to protect it.’ He said, both you and Natasha’s eyebrows dropped. ‘Protect?’ You asked, they nodded. ‘We’re aiming to reduce drugs, we know it’s impossible to fully stop it but slow down and help users.’ He explained, holding eye contact with you.

‘Hey doll.’ Bucky said, you didn’t reply to him as you kept your head in the freezer. ‘Doll?’ He asked, stepping closer, ‘What are you doing?’ He continued, reaching out and touched your shoulder. You took a deep breath as you stood up, shutting the door as you turned to him. Keeping an eye shut as you rested the ice pack against it. Bucky’s eyes widened before all emotion dropped from his face. ‘What happened?’ He asked, his hands coming up and cupping your cheeks. ‘I fell -,’ ‘Bullshit.’ ‘Bucky, I’m wearing nine-inch heels.’ You pointed you, lifting a foot up balancing on a heel, unwavering. Just proving his point. ‘And you’ve never fell before.’ He stated. ‘How would you know, you don’t watch my every move.’ You commented. ‘Trust me doll, I’ve watched your since you marched into Nat’s office bitching about a customer.’ He admitted, you scoffed and shook your head. ‘So, you gonna tell me what happened?’ Bucky asked, you shrugged your shoulders. ‘A fall out with one of the girls, I’m fine and it’s been sorted.’ You told him, the corners of your lips curled up. He reached up and cupped your hand carefully pulling it away, you kept the ice bag in your hand before he looked at the bruise. He dropped your hand before gently brushing his finger across it. ‘It’s not that bad.’ He said, you tilted your head forward. ‘I know, I’ll ice it tonight.’ You told him. ‘Oh, there goes my plans of asking you out.’ He commented and chuckled. ‘Bucky, we haven’t left my apartment in the last four days, unless it was for me to come to work.’ You said, he straightened and looked down at you, smiling before stepping closer. ‘Well you certainly haven’t been complaining.’ He replied, you stuck your tongue between your teeth as you tried not to laugh. ‘I need to go. My show starts in five minutes.’ You told him, he nodded as the familiar music of Wanda’s dance filled the building. ‘You look good baby.’ He called out as you walked away, you looked over your shoulder. ‘Always do honey.’ You replied, sending him a wink. ‘Steve.’ You said when you opened the door to reveal the tall blonde. ‘Y/N.’ He greeted you, before he could say anything else you were running down the stairs, still confusing him with the height of the heels. Turning to Bucky, he took in the wide eyes before he chuckled. ‘Damn you are one love sick puppy.’ He commented, Bucky’s eyes snapped to him.

‘Y/N?’ Bucky called out, looking around. ‘Y/N?’ He called again. ‘She’s not here.’ Wanda said, Bucky turned to her watched as she gently touched the cut across her forehead. ‘What do you mean?’ He asked, watching she wiped the blood down the side of her shirt. ‘He took her.’ Wanda told them, Natasha bent down and picked a chair up. ‘Who Wanda?’ Natasha asked. ‘Rumlow. Brock Rumlow.’ Wanda said, Natasha froze fixing the chairs as she whipped her head around to the other redhead. ‘Why would Rumlow want her?’ Bucky asked, Wanda shrugged her shoulders before Bucky turned to Natasha. ‘Nat?’ He asked, she didn’t reply and he stalked over to her.She didn’t back away as Bucky leaned down to her. She refused to make eye contact until he snapped his hand out, grabbing her jaw. ‘Why does that scumbag want her?’ Bucky quizzed, forcing her head back to look him in the eyes. ‘Y/N is his girl, was his girl.’ Natasha managed out, Bucky let go. ‘What do you mean his?’ Bucky asked, anger filling his chest at the thought of the scumbag touching her. ‘They dated about five years ago, she was a dancer at his club and just like you he took a liking to her.’ She pointed out, jabbing a finger into his chest, ‘They dated for a year, she broke it off and left.’ ‘In his brain Y/N is still his and will forever be his.’ Natasha finished, holding eye contact with him. ‘Why aren’t we informed about him?’ Sam asked, Natasha turned to him. ‘He hasn’t been around for two years.’ She told them. ‘Why now?’ Steve asked, Natasha scoffed.‘Because you all showed up, showing your interest in my girls.’ Natasha spat out, angrily fixing the chair before shoving it under the table. ‘Na -,’ ‘No, Y/N said it was a bad idea we discussed and -,’ she breathed out, covering her mouth and nose, gasping. ‘I am not losing her, not to that dickhead.’ She breathed out, ‘Not again.’ Her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed to the ground.

Bringing your crossed legs up the metal chain clinked, resting your chin atop of your knees, you wriggled your bare toes. The cold tiles underneath your bum were creating a chill and causing your bum to go numb, there was a bed across the room, but your refused to sit or even lie in it. ‘Y’know sweetheart it would be easier if you gave in.’ His rough voice filled the room, you tilted your head so you could see the dark eyes looking at you. ‘Rot in hell.’ You spat out, he chuckled.The door was pulled open, you kept your focus on the floor. You flinched with every step, the low heels of his dress shoes echoed around the room. When they stopped, you flicked your gaze up seeing the polished shoes. You clenched your jaw as he crouched down, his hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head back. ‘It’d be a shame if something were to happen to your face.’ He said, you narrowed your eyes at him. ‘Untie me and it’ll be a fair fight.’ You said. ‘Fair?’ Rumlow asked, you nodded once. ‘You’ve always been scared that I could win.’ You told him, he scoffed as his gaze darted to the chain that was attached to your ankle. ‘You so sure about that?’ ‘Untie me.’ You snarled, Rumlow’s lips curled up.

‘Y/N?’ Nat said, you looked at her, the bags under her eyes resembled yours before she quickly crossed the room and wrapped her arms tightly around your shoulders. Pulling you up off the hospital bed. ‘You’re okay.’ Nat breathed out, either to comfort herself or you, but you didn’t care as you grabbed tightly onto her arms. ‘I killed him Nat.’ You breathed out, she pulled away and looked you dead in the eyes. ‘Rumlow?’ She questioned, you brought your lips between your teeth. ‘Yeah.’ You answered. ‘Good on you. Bucky will be pissed he can’t do it.’ She commented, you tensed up slightly and she pulled away. ‘I can’t dance, not for a while.’ You said, ignoring the fact that she brought up Bucky. ‘You aren’t coming to work.’ She said, you shook your head. ‘I can’t be alone.’ ‘Bu -,’ she started, you quickly you shook your head. ‘I’ll stay in the office, I promise.’ You told her, she opened her mouth before nodding, brushing her hand down your head, trying to tame your knotted and messy hair. ‘You’ll need to talk to him eventually.’ Nat said, you lowered your head. ‘I will but I don’t want to see the look of pity he’ll give me.’ You told him, you know what that look could do and it might break you. ‘He’s out in the hall.’ Nat told you, you slumped in the bed. ‘Please, tell him I’m too tired or doctors have to run tests.’ You said, her brows wrinkled as she looked at you before nodding. ‘Okay, but you should know that he didn’t give up, he spent days searching everything he could and nights he followed all the leads.’ Nat told you, you rubbed your lips together. ‘And I’m grateful but I can’t face him just now.’ You told her truthfully. ‘Y/N, what happened with Rumlow last time or even this time will be smothered by the love that man has for you.’ Nat informed you, making the tears run to the surface. ‘I know that, but I can’t face his love when I’m broken on the inside.’ You told her truthfully, touching your chest, catching sight of the raised burns around your wrists, ones that matched your ankles. ‘Okay, okay.’ She said soothingly. ‘I’ll tell him.’ She added, you sniffed loudly but nodded.

‘Y/N?’ Bucky called, you lifted your head. ‘Bucky, what are you doing here?’ You asked, he looked good in the all black suit. ‘You’re better?’ He asked, you could feel yourself shrinking under his intense stare as he took you in. You were wearing mum jeans, the blue fabric hanging loose over your legs as you paired it with trainers and a black long-sleeved top. ‘I am.’ You agreed, he rubbed his lips together as he nodded. ‘What are you doing here?’ You asked him again, tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Nat.’ Bucky said, you closed your eyes. ‘So do I.’ You told him, he narrowed his eyes. ‘There isn’t any way she’s double booked us, is there?’ He quizzed, you shook your head before you spotted your red headed friend, reach into the room and pull the door shut. ‘Nat.’ You called out, she managed to give you a wave before shutting the door completely, the lock clicked. ‘Nat?’ You questioned, trying the handle but it wouldn’t budge. ‘I’m not letting either of you out before you make up, none of us can take the pining anymore.’ She commented, you leaned forward and let your head hit the door and sigh. ‘God dammit Nat, we aren’t teenagers.’ You sighed, you heard her laughing before she walked away. ‘How is she meant to hear us if she’s left?’ You asked, pushing yourself away from the door and made your way over to one of the leather chairs. You had noticed that Bucky was now standing in front of the window, his hands tucked in his pockets as he focussed on something outside. You started to drum your fingers on the arm of the chair, before you let out a huff of air and flung your head back and shut your eyes. ‘Why haven’t you talked to me?’ Bucky asked, his voice filling the room. ‘I haven’t had a reason.’ You said, his head dropped. ‘Y/N.’ He said, you opened your eyes and looked at the unit. ‘Bucky?’ ‘You were taken by that man and you don’t even talk about it.’ Bucky said, you shook your head as you took a small step back. ‘Because if I talk about it, it becomes real.’ You spat out, he turned to you, watching as you bounced your leg up and down. ‘That man whether he is dead or alive, has and will haunt me.’ ‘He took everything from me, and I thought I was safe but then he appears back and everything is in a loop.’ You said, rotating your fingers in a circle. ‘I can’t love someone like you, when I am so fucked up in here.’ You told him, moving your fingers to tap the side of your head. ‘You love me?’ He said, his blue eyes widened as he looked at you, you wanted to be annoyed that he only took that from the conversation, but he looked so hopeful. ‘It’s kinda hard not to.’ You glanced at him to see his wide eyes, ‘You are most the populations dream man.’ You added, giving him a smile. ‘No, you love me. Not loved, love.’ He said, you looked away from him but nodded. ‘Yeah, I love you and I can’t stop it.’ ‘Well don’t.’ Bucky said, your eyebrows shot up.‘What?’ You questioned. ‘I love you, I have since well you -,’ He admitted. ‘Marched in and bitched about Richie?’ You asked, he chuckled but shook his head. ‘No, I think it was actually when you broke his nose on your knee.’ He said, head tilting to the side. ‘He had to three stitches.’ You told him proudly, Bucky smiled. ‘I know, Steve and I paid him a visit the next day.’ He informed you, you leaned back. ‘You threatened him?’ You quizzed, he gave you a sheepish smile. ‘Maybe.’ He said slowly, the pink tint taking over his cheeks giving you his answer. ‘How many did you do that to?’ You asked him. ‘I am not disclosing that information.’ He commented, his blue eyes darting to the ground. ‘Bucky?’ You warned, he shook his head.

#bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #marvel imagines #marvel #the winter solider #sebastian stan

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 years

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Wisdom Teeth- Marvel One Shot

Y/N has to get her wisdom teeth taken out, and her friends, Spider-Man and Deadpool, are there to take care of her

“Just gave Y/N a valium pill!” Wade said, holding his phone out in front of him, “now let the fun begin!”

“Wade, put that away,” Peter scolded, “help me get Y/N into the car.”

“But how am I supposed to record all the funny stuff she’s gonna end up saying?”

“I’m not gonna say anything funny,” Y/N slurred.

“Ha! That’s what you think, doll. Just wait until that pill really kicks in.”

“Remind me where we’re going?” Y/N asked, trying her best to walk without help.

“The SHIELD med bay, Y/N,” Peter answered.

“Oh… why?”

“Because you’re getting your wisdom teeth out, remember? Gosh, you are out of it.”

Peter helped Y/N slide into the SHIELD hover-car. He sat down in the backseat next to her while Wade took the wheel in the front. Y/N slumped forward in her seat; she would have fallen over completely were it not for Peter, who gripped her by the shoulders to keep her upright.

…

When the group arrived at the SHIELD med-bay, Y/N could barely walk. Peter was tempted to just lift her up and carry her the rest of the way, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it if Y/N found out about it. So, he let Y/N lean on him all the way to the operating room.

“Where’re we?” Y/N slurred, “are we on Morag?”

“Nope, still on Earth, Y/N,” Peter answered gently.

A SHIELD nurse walked in shortly followed by an anesthesiologist and a surgeon.

“Have her lay down here,” the nurse instructed, gesturing to a dentist’s chair.

“Y/N, I’m gonna let you down slowly, okay?”

“Mmhm,” Y/N replied dazedly.

Peter tried his best to lower Y/N into the chair as gracefully as he could, but Y/N almost fell out twice.

“I’m afraid only one of you can stay for this next part,” the surgeon said, “we don’t want the room to be too crowded.”

“Got it,” Peter said, “Wade, you’re up.”

…

Y/N watched Peter leave with a sad look in her eyes. She watched Wade enter her field of vision. He took her hand and started rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Y/N, remember me?” He asked.

“Wade, where’d Peter go?”

“He just had to step out for a minute, don’t worry, he’ll be back as soon as you wake up.”

Y/N felt the nurse place a foam ball in her other hand.

“Squeeze that for me, sweetheart,” the nurse said.

Y/N squeezed as hard as she could manage, but she felt so weak that she wasn’t sure if she was actually squeezing anything. Y/N flinched when she saw the anesthesiologist pull out a needle.

“Wade, I’m scared,” Y/N said, tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I know, I know,” Wade said, “but it’ll just be a small little pinch and then you’ll go to sleep. And hey, I promise we can get ice cream after this. How does that sound?”

Y/N nodded. She barely felt the needle enter her arm.

“Count backwards from ten for us, Y/N,” the anesthesiologist said.

“Ten, nine…eight…seven…”

Y/N was finding it difficult to keep counting. She blinked once, twice, then her eyes stayed shut. The last thing she felt before drifting off was Wade’s hand letting go of hers.

…

Y/N woke up to pain. So much pain. Her mouth felt like it had been smashed with a block of concrete, and when she ran her tongue over her gums, she tasted blood.

“Hey, she’s waking up.”

Y/N opened her eyes to her friends standing over her.

“How are you feeling, my little chipmunk?” Wade asked.

“Chi-unk?” Y/N tried to say, but her lips felt numb. She felt around with her tongue and tasted cotton on either side of her mouth. Her cheeks were also numb. Y/N brought a hand up to her cheek, but Peter gently grabbed it and put it back down.

“You can’t touch your face yet, Y/N,” he said, “it’s okay, we’re gonna get you home.”

Y/N felt herself being lifted up into a bridal carry. She looked up into Peter’s lenses.

“I ‘an walk,” Y/N protested.

“Sorry, Y/N, but you could barely walk on valium, you’d fall over if you tried to walk now.”

Peter carried Y/N to the hovercar that was parked on the helicarrier landing pad and placed Y/N across the backseats. He sat down on the floor next to her and ran a hand through her hair. Wade put the car in gear and started to fly up into the air.

The trip home happened in a haze for Y/N. One minute she was in the hovercar, and the next minute she was being laid down in her bed. Y/N closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she had no recollection of the past few hours. Y/N sat up in bed and looked around. There were discarded rolls of cotton in a nearby trashcan, and Peter was sitting in a chair by her bedside.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“You don’t remember anything?” Peter asked.

“I remember you guys gave me a pill, then we got in some fancy SHIELD car, and then Wade was with me, and there was a needle.”

“That pretty much sums up the first half,” Peter said, “you got your wisdom teeth out. The surgery only took about twenty minutes. They brought you out, and we took you home.”

Y/N looked around for Wade, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Wade?” Y/N asked.

“He’s…” Peter paused, “I don’t know. He just left as soon as we got you in bed.”

“Surprise!” Came a sing-song voice.

The door to Y/N’s room swung open to reveal Wade, carrying a bowl of ice cream. Y/N’s eyes lit up. It was her favorite flavor of ice cream, topped with whip cream and sprinkles.

“Wade.” Peter’s lenses narrowed, “you know she’s not supposed to have that yet.”

“Pssh, you worry too much,” Wade said, handing the bowl to a very excited Y/N, “what could happen?”

…

“This could happen,” Peter said as he held Y/N’s hair back.

Y/N vomited into the trashcan that had been left in her room. Not an hour had passed after eating the ice cream and she was already regurgitating all of it.

“Okay, when the doc said ‘no dairy’, I assumed he meant straight up whole milk,” Wade said, “I didn’t think ice cream counted.”

Peter rubbed Y/N’s back with his other hand as she retched. Y/N was never going to look at a bowl of ice cream again. When her retching had turned to dry heaves, Peter helped her get up and guided her back to bed. He grabbed a washcloth and dabbed at her mouth. Y/N leaned back against the pillows, absolutely exhausted by just vomiting.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not your fault,” Peter replied, glaring at Wade.

…

Y/N drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. She felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice echoed, “dinner time.”

Y/N groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

‘I know, I know, but you have to eat something. Come on, I made you some chicken broth. It’s got really tiny noodles in it, it should be easy on your mouth.”

Y/n groaned again and let Peter help her sit up. She tried to take the bowl of soup from Peter but he gripped it firmly.

“Ah ah, I don’t want you lifting anything,” he said, “let me do it.”

Y/N’s face turned red as Peter spoon-fed her the chicken broth with noodles.

“This is embarrassing,” Y/N mumbled.

“Yeah, but you’d do the same for me,” Peter reasoned.

Y/N only finished half of the soup before her eyes started to drift closed again.

“Wait, you can’t go to sleep yet. It’s time for your next dose of painkillers.”

Without opening her eyes, Y/N held her hand out for Peter to dump a small, white pill into. She took it and washed it down with a glass of water left by her nightstand.

“Now you can sleep,” Peter said.

Y/N was asleep before Peter finished his sentence.

…

3 days later

Y/N crept through the alley. If her intel was right, a crime gang should be meeting here any minute now. Y/N paused when she heard voices. By the sound of the discussion, it was definitely the gang she was looking for. Y/N charged up ice crystals and leapt into their path.

“Party’s over, boys,” Y/N said, though it caused pain to surge through her mouth.

The members of the gang all wore looks of shock on their faces. They went to draw their weapons, but they were all quickly immobilized by… webs? Y/N looked up as she heard the tell-tale sound of webs shooting through the air. Spider-Man crouched on a nearby fire-escape, his lenses narrowed menacingly. He leapt down and landed right in front of Y/N. He turned to the incapacitated gang members.

“Excuse us for a moment, fellas,” Spider-Man said, “Blizzard and I have something to discuss.”

Spider-Man turned back to Y/N and folded his arms across his chest.

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded, “Your mouth’s not healed yet, you should be in bed!”

“I took painkillers before I left,” Y/N argued, “I feel fine!”

Y/N held a hand to her cheek. Despite the painkillers, her mouth was still very, very sore. But Spider-Man didn’t need to know that.

“We’re going home.” Spider-Man put an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close, “Now.”

“Hey, uh, Spidey?” the gang leader called, “what about us? You’re not just gonna leave us here, right?”

Spider-Man sighed.

“The police are on their way,” he said, “and make better choices next time. You’re lucky Deadpool wasn’t out here.”

With that, Spider-Man swung himself and Y/N away from the alley and back home.

…

Spider-Man opened the door and the sound of a blender running assaulted Y/N’s ears.

“Wade, what are you making?” Y/N called.

“Milkshakes,” Wade called back.

Y/N ran out of Spider-Man’s grip and into the kitchen.

“Can I have one?” Y/N asked, reaching for a freshly made milkshake.

Wade smacked Y/N’s wrist lightly with a spoon.

“Naughty patients who run off to fight crime in the middle of recovery don’t get any milkshakes.”

“Please?” Y/N gave her best pouty face.

Wade tilted his head back dramatically and groaned, his chef’s hat almost falling off.

“Fine,” Wade grumbled, “but don’t go running off again, or I’ll make sure you stay put and you won’t like it.”

“let me guess, bribery?” Y/N asked as she sipped on her milkshake.

“Sedatives,” Wade answered with a smile.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked down at her milkshake. Wade laughed and shook his head.

“I didn’t drug your milkshake, silly. Oh, but you should’ve seen your face. I should’ve taken a picture.”

Peter took off his mask and joined Y/N and Wade in the kitchen. Wade poured the contents of the blender into a glass and handed it to Peter. Peter drank from his milkshake as Wade grabbed one for himself. It would be a while before Y/N could go out again, but for now, she had everything she needed right here.

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 9 months

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Announcement!

Coming in September - Trope de Sept!

I have a follower milestone coming up and to celebrate, I'm going to be doing a whole month of writing tropes featuring my favorite Marvel characters. I'm giving myself the month of August to write and will be posting all of them in September.

If you have any requests for tropes or characters you'd like to see with them, please drop them in my inbox. I have a pretty nice list started but I want to know what the people want too! I might not take every suggestion/request, but I also want to hear from you!

The characters I'm planning including

Frank Castle

Bucky Barnes

Matt Murdock

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

But I'm open to writing other Marvel characters as well, so throw out your suggestions (Karen Page, Billy Russo, Loki, Thor, etc. even AOS characters cause I loved that show.) If you're dropping a smut request though, please make sure you are over 18 and have an age listed in your bio.

I'll be closing requests July 31, so I can have all of August to write, so shoot me a message before then!

#frank castle #matt murdock #bucky barnes #steve rogers #x reader #frank castle x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #punisher #daredevil #winter soldier #marvel fic #reader x marvel #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader

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wwwillowsimagines · 2 years

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Perfect (Dr. Strange Imagine)

Summary:

“I know you're twisted, but baby, I'm twisted too”

based off this song X

Rated: PG-13

tags; sad, cheating, multiverse

The moon lit up the room through your sheer curtain falling into the darkness your back turned to the side of Stephen's bed, the promise ring on your finger felt like it was burning your skin. You knew knowing the time would just make it worse, you didn't know why you bothered staying in here it's almost like getting your heart broken was your kink. If only you could get off on heartbreak. You can't remember when Stephen stopped sleeping next to you, sharing a bed seemed like a dream like it never happened all of the bad memories were steadily erasing the rest.

You've tried running through every scenario tried to fix everything that could be mended, maybe it was because you were so busy at work? You had already cut back on your hours even though it made you happy to work overtime to make your own living and not rely solely on his income. So during the extra hours you had in the morning you started to prepare breakfast for you both but he would rush out the door claiming he didn't have much time taking one bite of french toast kissing your forehead after a few mornings it was just a kiss and no small bites of your very large breakfast then eventually no kiss just out the door with a rushed goodbye falling from his lips.

Then you noticed you were gaining weight around your hips and arms perhaps from all the breakfast you were left to eat alone so you started hitting the gym. After lots of sweat and tears you toned up. Still nothing.

The first night things finally clicked in your small brain was when he came home unusually late especially since he had a real early start to his day. His eyes a little wild an extra pep in his step you smiled seeing this side of him was refreshing you pulled him into bed and he happily fell on top of you kissing you feverishly but when his tongue entered your mouth you tasted it. You tasted the wine, the very white wine. The kind of wine Stephen hated to indulge in. The kind you used to always keep around until you moved in with him and went to red because who wanted to drink wine alone? You started to notice when you would throw his clothes into the washing machine you would smell jasmine lingering on the fabric. A smell you knew all too well considering it was your best friend's favorite scent in high school. Every sleepover her room was drenched in the scent that is why you never wore it, you couldn't stand the smell anymore. You tried curving your back deeper, falling to your knees faster worshiping the man you were losing with no avail. You wanted to know what she did that you couldn't you were scared to know at first but now you were begging for the answers. What about her was so special, what was better than you?

As you thought this the light from your window that spilled into the room turned purple; a bright violet shade. You jumped from the bed legs wobbling you looked at the bright light outside of the window walking quickly to it, you gasped at the sight in front of you. The sky was a violent purple lightening weaving through the clouds like veins, people cried out on the busy New York streets even though it was like 4am. There was no thunder oddly enough you never heard this storm coming just then the door banged open you jumped and turned around to reveal your lover he was panting eyes half crazy.

"Stephen what is hap- what did you do?" You asked watching his face grow pale, just then a bright circle appeared in the room as another Stephen appeared a few years younger alongside him a chubby man and a young woman.

"The fabric of this reality is falling fast" The other Stephen stated. "I didn't know it would be this bad" Your Stephen cried out.

"What did you do?" The chubby man asked your Stephen. "I couldn't live without her, I refused to-" "So bringing her from another universe was your solution? Was destroying the fabric of this reality worth it?" New Stephen asked your Stephen. "What the fuck is going on?" You demanded they all ignored you, just then a woman with blonde hair rushed in the door.

"Stephen, I need to go back home" She cried clinging to his arms. Then it hit you as her jasmine perfume tainted the room, this was her. "It's too late for that" The young woman who appeared in the room from the portal thing told her rushing to stand beside you to look out the window. "At least we're together in our last moments" Stephen wrapped her in his arms, like he had completely forgotten your existence. This was to much the screams flooding the streets, the man you loved clinging to a woman you've never met the room started to spin then your vision faded to black. ______________ You opened as your eyes were greeted to a bright room with exposed brick, books were scattered everywhere. The leather of the couch you laid on squeaked as you sat up your head pounding like you had rocks in your head weighing it down, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind you turned to see Stephen… but not your Stephen.

"Are you alright?" He asked standing a few feet away look apprehensive.

"Hell no" You snapped at him then glancing around at the unfamiliar "Where the hell am I?" You demanded. "Somewhere safe I promise" He took a few steps forward resting his hand on your shoulder, his touch felt electric. You relaxed under his hand. You had no idea what the hell was happening but at least you had a familiar face even if it wasn't the real Stephen.

#stephen strange #dr. stephen strange #stephen strange imagine #dr. strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #marvel imagine #reader x marvel

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aphrcdites · 9 months

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the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

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gutsby · 4 months

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Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #marvel

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c1nnam00n · 1 month

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me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

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last-herondale · 24 days

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Almost Pt. 2

Bucky POV (W/ FemReader)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

Tw: some mild curse words

AN: Hellooooo. I had an idea for a part two! Two fics in one week? Who do I think I am? 😳 anyway here is Bucky’s point of view on what happened after part one! Will link below! Maybe this will be a new series? Idk feeling ambitious 🤣

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been six weeks since Steve’s party. Six agonizing weeks of silence. Forty-two days of not hearing your voice. One thousand and eight hours of not seeing you smile at my stupid jokes. Sixty thousand, four hundred, and eighty minutes of not seeing the light dance in your eyes whenever you saw me enter the room. Three million, six hundred thousand twenty eight, and eight hundred seconds since I saw you walk away from me during that party after confessing your love for me.

You said you needed time. I respected that. I understood that.

After you bared your soul to me, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That you deserved better. It was difficult to stand there and see the light die from your eyes as I said these things. It was painful to see you cry, knowing that I had been the one to cause you that pain. But it was devastating for me to realize that despite how much I loved you, how much I cared for you, that the words I said were still true. Agonizingly so.

I expected that this type of honesty would destroy our friendship. Even though I still held out hope in my selfish mindset that we could continue on like we had in the past. Spending our free nights together, laughing, joking, having fun together, sharing memories, crying, hugging, everything we used to do…

But of course, those dreams had not come into fruition.

When you volunteered to be shipped out of the country for a mission the day after Steve’s party, I knew it was to get away from me. And despite my frustration and worry about you leaving on some dangerous mission without me in the state you were in, Steve assured me that you would be fine. He didn’t know the extent of what happened, but Steve being the inquisitive son of a bitch he is, he was able to connect some of the dots at least. Surprisingly he didn’t lecture or judge me. I was expecting to get an earful from him about how I treated you, led you on, and hurt your feelings, but in return I got nothing.

The mission was only supposed to last for two weeks, but as the days grew longer, the whole team was on edge when the two of you didn’t return. Steve kept communications with Tony, and he would pass along the messages to the rest of us. “They hit a snag. They are safe but they are bunking down for a bit.”

I felt like I was on pins and needles. I just needed to know you were safe, that you were okay. I must have looked worse for wear around the tower, because even Nat noticed and had a conversation with me in my room. It was a little strange. Having her back in my apartment, alone, her fiery gaze still as piercing as it was when we were together. But those feelings I held for her were gone. Something else lingered there, a fondness for the time we had, but nothing more.

I knew she was your best friend, so I assumed you told her everything about what happened at the party, but when she came into my apartment with a stern gaze on me, arms crossed and all, all she said was.

“I don’t know what happened the other night at Steve’s party, but you need to stop moping and get a grip.”

“I’m fine. Stay out of it,” I said with an icy tone.

Nat just rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. “If you don’t feel anything for her, then stay away or get your shit together. She cares about you too much to walk away from you, Bucky.” Nat’s voice grew softer as she thought of you. “Whenever she comes back, and she will come back, she needs to heal. She cannot continue to be your emotional support puppet. It's draining her, James. Every time she returns from hanging out with you I see less and less of her return. She cannot continue to give you all of her heart when she is receiving none of it back.

“So for her sake, please, let her go.”

It was a hard thing to hear, but it was necessary. I stopped driving myself mad with when you would return. It was difficult, maddeningly so, but after another week I was able to distract myself enough with other things… other people. I did a few missions here and there, nothing that took me out of the country, but it filled some of the time I had to think about you.

I spent time with Nadia, the girl I had gone on a few dates with, the girl I had broken your heart over. Our relationship was purely physical. She was another distraction, someone to pass the time with. She didn’t seem to mind the distance I put between us. We weren’t exclusive by any means, and she was free to explore all of her options, but that was as far as that would go. Not that I could ever tell you this, even though I wanted to.

That was the shittiest part of it all. I missed you. Constantly. I missed talking with you about every single part of my day. I missed hearing about your day, or the silly little thoughts that swirled in your curious head. I missed spending my weekends with you, staying up until the sun rose, seeing you curled up in a ball on my couch, sleeping so peacefully. The ache in my chest never ceased, but I was able to drown away the thought of you for moments at a time.

And then you returned.

It was like a blow to the heart, seeing you standing in the kitchen, casually making yourself a bowl of cereal. Your skin seemed tanner than when you left. Clearly you had been somewhere where the sun kissed your skin for long periods of time. You looked beautiful, even just in your morning casual wear. You hadn’t noticed me yet. I was frozen in the entryway, trying to think of something intelligible to say to you, when Steve walked in through the other way. He too had not noticed me yet, his skin also sunkissed and a bit long.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, I watched as my best friend slid his arms around your waist, turned you around in a swift and gentle motion, and kissed you. Ice filled my veins and it felt as if a rock had dropped in my stomach. I staggered backwards a bit, hiding myself more in the darkness of the archway as I saw the scene unfold.

Steve was kissing you. His hands were gentle around your waist, and although you were taken by surprise in the moment, you stood on your toes to be more on his level. You cupped his face and smiled. You were smiling. You looked…happy.

I slipped away back down the hallway and into my room before I could see more. The image of my best friend kissing the love of my life was burned into my mind. I sat on my bed in a disgruntled mess, fighting the strange waves of feelings that were swirling in my body.

You were finally back. You were safe. At that I was able to release the tension in my chest that I had been holding since you left. And then… Steve. What had changed during those six weeks you were gone? Was it serious? Did you love him? Did he love you? These questions paced back and forth inside of my brain until I was nearly dizzy.

It was the memory of Nat’s voice that stuck out amongst my own thoughts. “Let her go.”

You had been happy in that kitchen. Steve was a good man, too good to play with someone’s feelings if he didn’t truly feel something for them. Steve was good for you. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The reason why I broke your heart in the first place? To set you free to find someone that would love you in all the ways I was incapable of doing. Why was I mad that you had done that? Why did I want to punch Steve for kissing you?

I clenched my fists as I sat on the bed. My body shook with so much emotion. In the torental storm that was my mind, I tried to focus on one memory. The only one that mattered. That night on the balcony. You had stood there, hair swirling in the breeze, more beautiful than the night sky. And you said it.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words calmed me. The memory of that night grounded me. Your tears. Your sadness. Your anger. I caused that. “I’m in love with you.” That is what you told me. And even though I wanted to scream it back, to shout it from the roof that I loved you too, instead I denied you. I threw it back in your face to save you from what I am. I hurt you, and this was my punishment. Seeing you pick up the pieces of that love that I shattered and give it to someone who would nurture that love.

I sat there thinking and thinking, until my head was pounding. I laid down on my bed, the image of you kissing someone else burning in my head.

“I’m in love with you too,” I muttered to myself.

Then, as tears began to silently fall down my face, I began to laugh.

#reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #fan fic author #fic writing #james bucky barnes #fem reader #marvel #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #heartbroken #angst #angst prompt

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amphibiahawks321 · 20 days

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[Summons chains and wraps it around Y/N's neck]

M!Reader : Hnng!

Scarlet witch : Y/N.... Chuckles afraid~?

M!Reader : Yeah! You summon a chain around my neck!

Scarlet witch : I didn't have a choice dear....

Scarlet witch : Now...

[Tugs on his chain]

Scarlet witch : You either-

[Y/N let out a moan and Y/N immediately covers his mouth flustered]

Scarlet witch : .....

M!Reader : .....

Scarlet witch Blushing : .....

M!Reader Bushing : ......

Scarlet witch Blushing : did you just moan-

M!Reader Blushing : NO!

#male reader #marvel imagine #reader x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #mcu x reader #reader x mcu #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #scarlet witch x reader #reader x scarlet witch #scarlet witch

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ornii · 3 months

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She Likes to Flirt (A Lot)

Natasha Romanoff X Male Reader (Short & Sweet) (Yup, Like Nat)

You obviously have a thing for Nat, and Almost everyone sees it.

Being the Spirit of Vengeance you held within yourself the devils bounty hunter, making you one of the most powerful begins on earth and a potential Level 10 Threat. Obviously you were scouted by S.H.I.E.L.D and joined their marry band of heroes, the Avengers. And after the little stunt in New York, the rest was history. Mission after mission you slowly grew closer to Natasha. Seasoned Assassin and Spy, she was the first you met due to her doing recon for Nick Fury. Naturally you two grew to be good friends, perhaps, even more.

It was nearing Night, after another mission at Sokovia you headed back to Stark Tower to celebrate, the massive parking garage opens up and you park your chopper there. Following behind was Natasha as usuals, somehow the Jeep didn’t get demolished in the fight. You chucked as you walked to the elevator. Natasha follows, looking at the bike.

“Aren’t gonna take your keys?” She asked, “Trust me, that bike isn’t going anywhere without me.” You reassured her, tapping the upper floors you both stood there as it began to rise. She dusts herself off as you try to put the flames off on your coat.

“Good mission overall.” She said, “Yup, Bruce and Tony are in their nerd lab brooding or something. With them together I’m a bit worried.”

“Don’t be. We can handle them, well I can.” She said, “What’s that supposed to mean?” You respond and she keeps her eyes forward, smiling. She ignores your question.

“You stink.” She said.

“I Tore through hydra guards like butter with a hot knife, I’m gonna stink. I’m pretty proud of that.” You said, “You do have a lot of. Good assets.” Nat said.

“Well damn that’s a first. A compliment.” You said.

“Now you know Steve doesn’t like that kind of language.” She said jokingly, you bite your lip and look forward trying not to laugh.

“He’s never gonna live that down.” You said

“Ever.” Natasha comments.

“You know you stink too right? Gonna need to shower.”

“Obviously, we have a party tonight, plus I have to put my face on, or whatever normal women say.” Natasha looks at her reflection.

“You’re Normal Nat.” You said to cheer her up. She turns to you, smiling. “I’m an assassin and you’re a bounty hunter for the devil, we’re not normal.”

“Well obviously but, looks wise, you don’t need to put on your face, looks good as is.” You point out, poking her forehead. Before she can open her mouth for some cheeky response, the Elevator opens and you step out.

“See you tonight Red.” You give her a send off before heading to the one room you somewhat own in the Tower.

The Party Finally arrives and you’re mingling with Thor and Rhody, who’s giving an, interesting story.

“Well, you know, the suit can take the weight, right? So I take the tank, fly it right up to the General's palace, drop it at his feet, I'm like, "Boom! You looking for this?" He explains, (Y/n) and Thor exchange glances and then back to Rhody. "Boom! Are you looking..." Why do I even talk to you guys? Everywhere else that story kills.

“That's the whole story?” Thor asks.

“Yeah, it's a War Machine story.”

“Well, it's very good then. It's impressive.”

“Yeah the Tank Part was really cool.” You said, Rhody sighs. “Okay fine, what did you do that was cool?”

“Uh, recently? By myself? A meteor was gonna hit Sweden so, I flew into the air and used my chain to pull the meteor back and hurl it into the atmosphere.” You casually explain, Rhody looks flabbergasted. “It was a Tuesday, I think.” You said, Rhody walks off as Thor Pats you on the shoulder. “That’s, very impressive.” And walks off, maybe you were going a little too high, you finished your beer and looked to the bar for more, what caught your eye was the redhead in a perfectly fitting white dress, you mosey over and casually slide down on a seat. Your eyes and Nat’s lock, and she smiles.

“Come here often, handsome?” She was the first to lay the foundation for the chat and you went right along with it.

“No, first time, but I saw this beautiful bombshell working the Bar and I had to see her.” You reply, Nat couldn’t hide her smile.

“Now what kind of man would leave a woman like you all by your lonesome, must have a bad taste in them.” You added on.

“He's not so bad. Well, he has a temper. Deep down he's all fluff. Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. And here comes this guy, trying to actually do the right thing. Even if he screws if up sometimes.”

“He…Sounds amazing.”

“He's also a huge dork.” She adds in, (Y/n) looks blindsided, Nat shrugs, “Chicks dig that. So what do you think should I fight this, or run with it?”

“Well, the guy really likes you.. I say give a chance, see where it goes? Is that, wrong to ask?” He asks, so hopeful. Nat smiles and sits up from the bar.

“Not at all, but, I think she likes you too, it may not look like it now... But never say never.” Natasha walks away, and Steve approaches (Y/n,) who sat there really considering her words.

“It's nice.” Steve said.

“What?” You reply confused.

“You and Romanoff.”

“No, me and her aren’t uh.. you know.” You mutter, Steven shakes your resolve.

“It's okay. Nobody's breaking any by-laws. It's just, she's not the most... open person in the world. But with you she seems very relaxed.”

“Yeah, Nat she... she likes to flirt. So do I.” You admit, now daydreaming of her slowly taking that dress off. But Steve ruins your daydreaming.

“I've seen her flirt, up close. This ain't that. Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on "waiting too long;" don't. You both deserve a win.” Steve gives you some damn good advice, and went off to his lonesome. You really thought about what he said.

“You know Steve, you got a point.. we do deserve a happy ending and— Wait, what the hell do you mean, "up close"?!

#male reader #reader x marvel #natasha romanoff x male reader #natasha romanoff x male!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow x reader

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playbucky · 1 year

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First Love.

Requested by Anon – Can I ask for a with Druig x Eternal reader where he always been in love with her but never say or do anything and everyone take separate ways and when is time to find her all the Eternals go to her home and find that she's had a life with someone, and that he knows what she is and know about them. Characters – Druig x Reader. Word Count – 2k.

‘Baby, you have some visitors.’ Nikolai called, you lifted your head from the large pot. Moving away from the cooker, you made your way through your house, rearranging the flowers on the way past. Looking at the bright yellow tulips, a smile made its way onto your face. Arriving at the front door, Nikolai moved out the way and the smile quickly dropped. ‘Could you go and look over dinner?’ You asked Nikolai, he nodded. Placing a kiss to the side of your head before he disappeared into the house. ‘What are you guys doing here?’ You asked the group of eight, who were looking at your hardly changed appearance. ‘Ajak was killed.’ Ikaris said, your brows furrowed together. ‘What?’ You questioned. ‘We found her in her garden.’ Sersi said, you lowered your head. ‘Why are you here?’ You asked them. ‘We need your help Y/N.’ Druig said, your eyes snapped to him as he lifted the sunglasses up onto his forehead. ‘You don’t need my help.’ You told them. ‘We do.’ Sersi said, you shook your head as you lifted a hand and rested it on the doorframe, forming a barrier between them and your life. ‘No.’ You said. ‘The creatures are coming back, one of them attacked Sprite and I in London.’ Sersi told you, you looked over your shoulder. ‘You are more than welcome to stay for dinner, but I can’t ruin this life.’ You told them, Sprite smiled at you. ‘I’ll gladly stay for your food; all we’ve been eating is crisps and sandwiches.’ She said, you gave her a smile as you moved to the side allowing her to walk past you. ‘Oh wait, does he know?’ She asked, you looked over your shoulder and nodded. ‘Yeah.’ You replied, she nodded before heading in as you turned to the group. ‘He knows?’ Sprite asked, making sure she heard you correctly. ‘We’ve been together five years, can’t keep that from him.’ You said, Thena looked at you and smiled.

‘Where’s Gilgamesh?’ You asked, looking around the table. You noticed Thena freeze and look blankly at the plate in front of her and your stomach dropped. ‘When?’ You asked, Nikolai looked at you. ‘Two days ago, we were attacked by three creatures when we were getting Druig.’ Phastos said, you clenched your jaw and nodded. Nikolai’s hand landed on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You looked up at him, you had silent conversation and he sighed before nodding. He cleared his throat and stood up, the group watched him. ‘It was lovely meeting you guys but I need to go pack.’ He said, he lifted his plate up before taking it to the kitchen and cleaned up quickly. ‘Why is he packing?’ Sprite quizzed, you clenched your jaw. ‘He’s going to stay with his family.’ You told them, pushing the food around on your plate. ‘Why?’ Ikaris questioned. ‘Because he loves her and knows that when he’s safe she can focus.’ Thena stated, you looked at her through your eyelashes. ‘So, you’re going to help us?’ Sprite asked, you nodded and lifted your head to look at her. ‘I can’t let them destroy the world that we built, that we created and that I have fallen in love over and over with.’ You explained, your gaze slipping to Druig at the end of the table.

‘Is he willing to stay with you when he’s old, wrinkly and cannot move but you’re still the gorgeous woman that never ages?’ Druig asked, you knew he was giving you a compliment, all be it back handed whilst berating your lover. ‘No.’ You told him, your voice void of emotion as you looked at your old friend before you looked away. ‘I’ve told him I won’t be around then because I can’t bear the thought of seeing him die.’ You informed him, he watched as you avoided eye contact with him. ‘So why did you fall for him?’ Druig asked you, you shrugged your shoulders looking at the man you were in love with then to the man who had been your first love. ‘I don’t know Druig, why did I fall for him? Why did I fall for you?’ You asked him, lifting your gaze and finally made eye contact with him. ‘But what should it matter, I haven’t talked to you in thousands of years.’ You told him, his gaze dropped, ‘yet then again you did believe that you always knew better, didn’t you?’ You asked him, his bright gaze snapped up to you as you watched it darken. ‘I never tried to control you.’ He hissed, you arched an eyebrow. ‘No, I’ll give you that but I would bet my life that you would’ve tried to keep me stuck in your village?’ You said, he shook his head quickly. ‘No.’ Druig snapped, he pointed a finger at you before he took a breath and dropped his arm. ‘I would have never harmed you, not when I loved you so much.’ He said, you took a small step back. ‘Druig, we never loved each other.’ You told him. ‘We believed that we had to be together, right, no one else understand us since we were created together?’ You quizzed, his eyebrows flickered. ‘So you don’t believe that Icarus and Sersi don’t love each other?’ Druig questioned, you opened your mouth before a knock at the door stopped you. ‘Come in.’ You said, you turned to the door to reveal Sprite, she looked concerned. ‘Everything okay?‘ She asked, you gave her a tight smile. ‘Oh yeah, just having a well overdue conversation.’ Druig commented, Sprite looked at him then to you. ‘We think we’ve found something.’ She stated, you nodded and Druig pushed past you, Sprite stepped to the side before he bashed his shoulder against hers. ‘Are you sure your okay?’ ‘Yeah, hard truths always come out and well I realised them before he did.’ You told her, you turned and offered your arm which she took, both of your made your way to the large room where everyone had gathered. ‘I hope you can sort it out, we’ve all been routing for you.’ Sprite told you, you tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace than anything. ‘I don’t think so Sprite, he’s had years to apologise or to even reach out but now, with this fight where we don’t know what we going against-,’ you told her. ‘But you were each other’s first love.’ She commented and still looked hopeful. ‘Exactly,’ you sighed, ‘when Ajak found out that we were puppets having our minds wiped it was in our design to fall in love with each other.’ You finished. ‘Or fate.’ She added. ‘Fate doesn’t exist.’ You replied as you shook you head. ‘Come on Y/N, every restart, life and planet we’ve been in, you would think that they would programme that out, stopping any emotions.’ Sprite said, your brows furrowed as you sighed. ‘I wish it was that simple, I really do but I’ve gave up Sprite, I’ve spent too much time hoping.’ You said. ‘And with Nikolai?’ Sprite quizzed, ‘With him I don’t have to hope, we support each other and love each other.’ You explained, she looked down at her feet. ‘But he’ll die.’ She whispered, almost afraid to say it. ‘Yes he will.’ You agreed with her, ‘but until then I want to be loved by him, I want to settle down and maybe even get a dog or two.’ ‘What about a kid?’ She quizzed, you shook your head. ‘It’s impossible, we aren’t designed to reproduce but that isn’t a bad thing.’ ‘We should join the others before the send a search party out.’ You joked, Sprite smiled and you both continued on the short walk.

You and Makkari watched as Ikaris pushed Druig into the mountain, the rock crumbled with the force and Makkari screamed as she dropped to her knees. Everyone froze and watched as Ikaris floated down, his lips pulled into a smirk. ‘Oh don’t too upset Y/N, you don’t love him.’ He taunted, you stood taller and squared your shoulders as you slowly blinked. ‘Y/N.’ Ringo called out, Phastos started to make his way over as well. You looked back to the mountain that now had lava spurting from the top, you then looked around for Thena but you couldn’t see her anywhere. Everyone was dishevelled and tired, their clothes burnt and tattered. ‘Sersi?’ You called out, Ikaris raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah?’ You heard her reply, you faced Ikaris again. ‘Stop it.’ You replied, Ikaris looked amused. ‘She won’t be able to stop it, not when I’m here.’ Ikaris stated, the corner of your lips curled up as you turned back to him. ‘Good thing you wont be here for long then.’ You told him before he could react you surged forward, you shoulder collided with his chest, as you wrapped your arms around him and lifted off. ‘What are you doing?’ He grunted out, you tight grip around him was pushed off, both of you floated in the air, the clouds floated around your feet. ‘Stopping your mistake.’ You snarled, he tilted his head to the side. ‘Mistake?’ He questioned.

‘We were to let this happen.’ He pointed down below him, a low groan could be heard of the ground breaking apart. ‘I’m not letting you kill the world that I’ve came to grew and love, not when I’m still breathing.’ You replied, he shot lasers at you which you quickly dodged, you swept his feet, the force caused him to twirl around. ‘You awfully angry Y/N.’ Ikaris stated, you pursed your lips. ‘Of course I am, you killed Ajak and Gilgamesh, even twisted Sprite’s mind.’ You reminded him, he smiled. ‘Sprite willingly joined me.’ Ikaris reminded you, you shook your head. ‘She joined you because she loved you Ikaris.’ You told him, he shrugged. ‘Isn’t it you that said love isn’t true?’ He quizzed, you bared your teeth to him. ‘Yes, but you seem to have a pattern of using love to get to people.’ You said, he held up a finger. ‘Once, I’ve did it.’ ‘Sersi.’ You spat out, he froze and you tilted your head to the side. ‘Oh, you forgot about your first love, didn’t you?’ You asked, ‘the woman gave you everything, but yet you broke her heart and now your back agains trying to send us back for what?’ You quizzed. ‘To get her to fall in love with you again?’ You said, his eyes darkened. ‘It’s for her own good.’ He grunted out, you arched an eyebrow, the clouds were climbing at your sides. ‘Yeah, no, I’m not falling for that bullshit.’ You told him, he bared his teeth at you as he squared his shoulders and you watched as his eyes redden. Taking a deep breath you surged forward again, the cool air brushed against your side before a steering hot flash went down your side but you continued on your path. You shoulder dug it’s self into his chest again, your arm wrapped around his waist, fingers interlocked as you pushed up. The pair of you continued to rise, Ikaris fought against you but he didn’t break the grasp you had on him. The air suddenly turned freezing as you broke the atmosphere, you looked down and you could see the earth as it continued to get smaller. ‘Y/N.’ Ikaris said, he started to sound panicked. ‘Y/N, please, I’ll hand myself over.’ He said, you ignored him as you fought against him as he wrinkled. ‘You’ll die.’ He said, you titled you head back and looked at him. ‘I know.’ You replied, with one last push you felt the warmth of the sun hit you, taking a deep breath you unwrapped your arms and pushed him backwards. Ikaris didn’t fight as he disappeared into the bright orb, you smiled when you could no longer see him. A weight had been lifted off your chest before a a large laser shot out, it connected with your chest and sent you spiralling backwards, which caused you to pass out.

#reader x druig #druig x reader #reader x eternals #eternals x reader #The Eternals #marvel #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #druig imagines #barry keoghan #sprite #ajak #makkari #thena #gilgamesh #ikaris #phastos #ringo

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