#sam wilson x black reader

[megamindsecretlair]

i need me some one night stand Sam smut, maybe they met at a bar or mutual friend’s wedding/any event. whatever your little heart desires i just know that it’s gonna be amazing especially with Sam’s nasty behind. ily 🩷

A/N: I know I keep apologizing, but I am SOOO SORRY! I did not intend for this to take so long. I know you said it's cool, but I can't help it. Thank you for being so patient with me. ILY, ILY!

Feel Like I Do

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), teasing, use of pet names, mentions of birth control, size kink, praise kink, one night stand smut.

Summary: See Ask. While out at a club for your friend's birthday, you bump into Sam. He's sweet, charming, and there's something achingly familiar about him. You go home with him, needing to see where this goes.

Word Count: 5,505k

A/N: When an ask kicks my ass, it kicks my ass!!!! However, once it finally came together, it flowed so beautifully. Thank you @planetblaque for helping me! ILY. This is based off of one my fave songs. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @nerdieforpedro

The cover band was too loud. You grimaced as you made your way past the press of bodies towards the bar. You could barely hear the singer and the instruments sounded disharmonious on top of it. You hated nights like these. Why couldn’t your friend’s birthday fall during the week? 

This was your favorite club but you mostly went during the week when you could sit back and relax. There were less people, less lecherous men, and you could actually hear who was playing. It was a great spot to discover new and local talent. 

You shoved past a guy leaning in some poor girl’s face. You dug your elbow into his side hard enough for him to turn around. The girl he was speaking with gave you a grateful smile while she took off, disappearing into the crowd. 

You waved innocently to the man. There was a small opening at the bar that you made a beeline for. As soon as you reached it, you lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. At the same time, a man bumped into you and raised his own hand.

“Hey!” You said.

The man looked at you and you gasped. He was so cute. Smooth chestnut skin, a neat goatee, and high cheekbones. He wore a simple outfit with dark jeans and a carmine T-shirt but he wore it extremely well. The shirt bunched around his upper arms, bulging under his massive muscles. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please, go ahead,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead. 

“Thanks. You’re not a regular here ,” you said.

The man shook his head. “Trying to cheer up my friend,” he said. He pointed to a section of the club where the booths were. There were two men sitting there. One with blond hair and looked like he bench pressed entire trucks for a living. The other had darker, longer hair and was whispering something to him.

“Girl troubles?” You asked.

“Always is. I’m Sam,” he said. He held out his hand. You shook his hand and introduced yourself. It was warm and big, strong in a way most men these days weren’t. You reluctantly dropped his hand, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You just met the man and there was no reason to feel so..connected to him already. As if you knew him. 

“What brings you to this madhouse tonight?” Sam asked. You both waved for the bartender’s attention, but he was too busy at the other end of the bar. It’d be a while before he made his way down this way. The other bartender was too preoccupied by a group of guys on the opposite end. Fuck, you just wanted a damn drink. 

“Birthday for my friend,” you said. You pointed to your friends in a different booth. They were currently whooping, yelling and throwing their hands up while they danced. They looked like they were having fun. It was the goal and you were happy. 

“Ah, so they send the errand people to grab their drinks, huh?” Sam asked. 

“Seems like. But we’re good friends, so we’ll grin and bear it,” you said.

Sam nodded. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, you mentioned that I wasn’t a regular here. Does that mean you are?” 

It was your turn to nod. You leaned on the bar and faced him better. There were too many people crowding on either side, screaming for the two bartenders behind the bar. They pressed against you until you were flush against Sam. To his credit, he did his best to get away and give you some room.

“Guess we’re getting personal tonight. How ‘bout your next drink is on me as an apology?” He asked.

Something about him was so disarming. It was unnerving. Your natural defenses were useless against him. Usually you were trying to get out of there as fast as you could. Picking up women in bars always seemed so cheesy to you. Full of bad pick up lines and beer goggles. 

Sam seemed as sober as a judge. And he smelled divine. Something earthy. Something that reminded you of taking hikes in the forest, faint mist in the air, and the sound of a small waterfall nearby. 

You hadn’t had much to drink but being near him was like you were buzzed. Like time was hazy and the only plane of existence was inside the club. You swayed a bit towards him. Drawn to his gravitational pull.

“I’d like that, but no apology needed.” You smiled at him, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. Your body was becoming electrified. The sounds in the place receded to the background as your attention narrowed to Sam. 

“No apology needed, but how about an answer to my question in exchange? Is it strange that I feel like we know each other?” 

You grinned. Good, it wasn’t just you. You shook your head. “Right? Like what is that?” 

Sam ran through places that you might have in common. Like grocery stores, no. Or gyms, hell no. He ran around nearabout the Washington monument every day in the wee hours of the morning.

“If I’m up before the sun is up, shoot me,” you said.

He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He had a good laugh. One that you wanted to hear over and over. 

“Not a morning person, huh?” He asked.

“Not even a little bit.” You were quite the terror in the morning when you woke up. As if the day owed you a personal favor for getting up on time. You had no time for morning chats or chores or anything that required brain activity until your first cup of coffee. Even then, it was hit or miss on how your mood would progress until the sun was higher in the sky and you didn’t feel like crawling back into bed.

You abandoned the drinks and simply talked to Sam. You learned more about him, about his time spent in the military and that he was a counselor now. You told him about your soul-sucking job and how you came here often to listen to local bands. 

He had a great voice that melted like butter around everything he said. And the way he told a story made you feel like you were really there. 

Every now and then, you would get bumped into and in turn, bump into him. Every push against his body was its own hit of dopamine. Every time he steadied you, his hands wrapped around your forearms, turned your brain to mush. Every time he smiled, you wanted to grab him and never let go. 

“We still haven’t gotten any drinks,” he said. 

You chuckled as you realized that you were probably talking to him for the last thirty minutes. In your own bubble, getting to know one another. 

You looked towards your friends. They were still dancing but were now on their phones. You pulled yours out to see the dozens of missed texts. The threats to call the police started. You texted them back to know that you were still alive and not kidnapped. You showed Sam and he laughed.

“We’re pretty bad friends,” he said. He looked towards his own. The situation looked a bit better. Maybe the dark-haired one was able to cheer up the blonde. 

“So bad! What are they gonna do with us?” You asked.

“Well, I still haven’t gotten you that drink but it doesn't look like we’re having much luck at the bar. I can’t let you leave without making it up to you,” he said. 

You grinned and looked towards the dance floor. The cover band had mercifully stopped and now the DJ was spinning records you could actually dance to. You turned your attention back to Sam. “How about a dance?” 

He looked towards the crowded dance floor and then turned back to you with a chuckle. “Think you can keep up?” 

You giggled and stepped away from the bar. You glided your hand across his chest and he looked down to follow the movement. “Can you?” You asked.

Sam smirked. He grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The bottom of the floor was illuminated with squares of color. Neon blues, reds, and purples danced over you as you stepped onto the floor. 

You started bobbing your shoulders and getting into the rhythm. Sam followed your lead, getting closer and shaking his hips. His hands coasted along your exposed arms in your black tank top, pulling you closer and closer. You grinned at him. 

The song changed to a funky, techno type hip-hop song. It made everyone scream with joy. You popped your booty more to match the quick beat and Sam turned you around. He grabbed the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer into his body roughly, your back to his chest.

You twerked on him, rubbing and grinding your booty into his crotch. If you weren’t mistaken, he was definitely happy about that. He already seemed so thick and heavy behind his jeans but he had given no indication that his mind went there.

He dropped his head closer to your shoulder, his breath fanned across your damp neck. Sweat pooled along the slopes of your body. He switched up the way you were dancing on him, controlling your movements to the way he liked and you were powerless to do anything but go along with it. 

You slid your hand along the back of his neck and cupped his head. He moaned in your ear as you continued this dance, rocking with each other like you wanted to devour each other whole. 

You thought that feeling like you were the only two people in the room was a joke. Experiencing it with Sam was surreal as no one else mattered. No one else existed. 

He moved his hands from the belt loops to grab your hips. His fingers rode up your shirt a fraction so that he could play with your skin where your jeans stopped. Just that tiny bit of friction, his calloused fingers rubbing along your smooth skin, made your panties even more soaked than what they already were. 

You were in tune with this man. You felt him on a cellular level. Every breath of his tugged at your cells. Every sound he made tickled your veins. Everytime he ground his hips into you, to let you know nonverbally that he was feeling you,  was like a twitch in your muscles. 

Your bodies moved in sync. Neither one of you could keep your hands from roaming. Seeking. A compulsion for more and more. There was no end in sight. No limit for this need driving you. A need to feel him, all of him. 

Sam kissed your neck, licked right over the pounding vein in your neck and you dropped your head back against his shoulder. This felt too right. Too overwhelmingly good that you wanted to freeze this moment. To exist in limbo with him. 

His thumbs pressed into your lower back and you moaned. Sam continued kissing up your neck until you turned your head. Your lips pressed together, a mini explosion all its own that rocked you to your core.

His lips were warm, inviting. His breath was minty with a subtle hint of beer. He kissed as well as he danced. Perhaps better. 

“Come back to my place,” he said against your lips and then dived in for another scorching kiss. 

“Yes,” you answered, though he hadn’t phrased it like a question. God, you wanted to see where this could go. It was soul crushing to part for even a minute. You didn’t know him. But you felt like you did. Like you had known him your entire life. 

He stopped dancing and took your hand from his head. He pulled you off of the dance floor. “Meet me outside and then follow me to my place.” 

You nodded. You departed, holding onto each other until you’d either have to let go or risk injury. You watched each other until the crowd obscured him. You took a deep breath, returning to reality for half a second.

You poked your way through the crowd, reaching your friends at the booth.

“Who the hell was that?” Your friend, Alana, said and waved a napkin in front of her face. The birthday girl, Cece, nodded her head.

“Shit, I feel like I need a damn cigarette,” she said.

You waved them off. Your insides were jelly, a giddy nervousness that wouldn’t quit. “Will you hate me for dipping?” 

“One of us needs to get laid. Go ‘head girl,” Cece said and hi-fived you. 

“I love you, I love you,” you said. You hugged them both and made them promise to look out for each other.

“I’ll accept my name as the middle name for the baby ya’ll finna make!” Cece yelled and you smacked her arm.

“Nasty ass!” You waved goodbye and headed to the parking lot. You kept expecting for that feeling to disappear. That desperate neediness in your veins to return to Sam and never leave his side. But it never did.

It increased tenfold when you reached outside. The cool air fell over your sweaty skin like stepping into a freezer. It should have woken up your senses. You didn’t “do” one night stands. You didn’t randomly go with strangers and have sex. 

However, seeing Sam standing by his car made you want to jump his bones even more. He saw you approach and he smiled. 

“You can change your mind if you want to,” he said. 

“I don’t want to,” You said and smiled. 

He told you to follow him. Your eyes cataloged everything about him. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he stood there and radiated peace and calmness like walking melatonin. 

You climbed into your car and followed Sam. He didn’t live far. He lived out in a bunch of townhomes, neat and tidy in their uniform rows. You supposed that to a military person, this would feel like home. 

Sam parked first and you parked in front of his place. He got out of the car and so did you. You made your way to him. Nerves prevented you from speaking but there was a comfortable familiarity with him that didn’t require words from either of you.

He grabbed your hand and led you into his house. It was tastefully decorated and most importantly - clean. There were too many grown men comfortable with living in absolute filth and had the nerve to think women were just supposed to excuse it away. 

Sam turned on a few lights, enough to see by. After locking the door and throwing his keys on the table beside it, he faced you.

He slowly approached, his eyes raking over your body. You felt it like a physical caress. His face showed nothing but appreciation and desire. He liked what he saw. And damn, did you like what you were seeing as well. He moved like a large cat, like a lion lazily stretching its muscles. 

He stepped to you and then tilted your head up by your chin. He grinned and then closed his eyes, kissing you softly. Reverently. Like it was a long-lost reunion after decades apart. You felt like you would float away at any moment. 

He deepened the kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. Your hands finally grabbed his thick arms, rubbing his shoulders and hanging on. He moaned low in his throat, continuing to be content with just kissing you. Tasting you. 

“Upstairs? I’m assuming?” You asked. 

“Beauty first,” he said. He let you go so you could turn around and head towards the stairs. You passed by pictures of him growing up. Two parents and what looked like a sister. There were more pictures of the sister with kids. Pictures of Sam with his unit. 

Sam placed his hands on your hips and escorted you to his room. He turned on a lamp and the light was a little harsh but still intimate. The walls were painted a deep, soothing blue. His sheets matched the walls and he had blinds on the window. 

He wasn’t much for useless junk. Everything had its place and section. He’d have a fit if he saw your place. It was clean, but you definitely tended to cherish trinkets, gadgets, or souvenirs. Proof of life. Of love. Of friendships and relaxing trips. 

You faced him with a smile. There was no rush here. Nothing to indicate that he was trying to pressure you in any way. You grinned wider and reached for your shirt, throwing it on the floor. 

Sam’s eyes widened, taking in your peek-a-boo turquoise bra. He licked his lips. Feeling emboldened by his obvious desire, you stripped out of your shoes and jeans, kicking them off to the side.

“I show you mine…” you sang. You grinned and sidled up next to him, reaching for his shirt. He helped you pull it off of him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was all smooth skin and muscle. Stack on top of stack. He took his physical health seriously. Your hands rubbed all over every inch you could reach. 

Sam’s heavy breathing filled the room as you touched him. You stared into his eyes and leaned down to place a kiss over one of his pecs. He grinned. “Like what you see?” 

“You know damn well how fine you are,” you said. 

“Don’t mean I don’t wanna hear it,” he said.

“You are so fucking hot,” you said. You might have drooled. Didn’t care.

Sam chuckled as he finally shed his own boots and jeans, revealing black briefs and an impressive bulge. You reached for it, ready to feel that too but he grabbed your wrists before you made contact. You pouted at him.

“I was raised to be a gentleman. So get your sexy, gorgeous ass on that bed and spread them pretty legs for me,” he said. 

Shivers wrecked you. There was no breeze in the house to blame it on. No whir of the A/C to excuse it away. His words alone had you rubbing your thighs together and grinning. 

You backed up into the bed, holding his gaze. He licked his lips while you sat down and then scooted onto the bed. He stalked closer so that he could maintain that shared look as you laid down and got comfortable on his plush mattress. 

Sam tilted his head at you. You rolled your eyes and spread your legs like he asked you to. He made a pleased sound that you felt down to your toes. 

He reached out and rubbed your thighs and legs, getting you used to his touch. He hooked his rough fingers around your matching panties and tugged them down. He whistled softly as he got a peek at your glistening center.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. He looked up at you. As he descended down with a kiss to your tummy, he asked, “Can I taste it?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. Your breathing turned choppy. 

He placed kisses along your lower tummy, not touching your pussy at all. His hands remained locked around your thighs, holding them open. He started to move down, kissing along your thighs. He stopped when he reached your inner thigh. 

“Can I play with it?” 

“Fuck yes,” you moaned. 

His fingers massaged your thighs, digging deep and finding knots you didn’t know existed. You moaned, unable to stop yourself from squirming under his methodical hands. His thumbs traced patterns as he massaged you, tracing small circles into your skin. He kept his hands moving, gripping and learning you. His thumbs caressed the inside juncture of your legs, where your thighs met your pelvis.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. 

Sam chuckled and brushed his goatee against your skin. His face was smooth earlier but there were the beginnings of prickly stubble that rubbed along your thighs. You were unused to this type of teasing. Where it felt like your skin would melt off if he didn’t do something soon. 

He placed lazy kisses to your inner thighs, making each area tingle. You felt phantom kisses all over and you continued to squirm.

“Calm down, relax,” he said against your skin.

“How can I? You’re driving me insane,” you said.

“Insane? Good. I wanna drive you to total and complete madness,” he said. 

Fuck.

He kept placing these kisses along your skin and your body twisted and bowed off of the bed the closer he approached your pussy. You were probably already leaving a nice little puddle on his covers already. 

“Sam, please,” you sighed. His fingers felt heavenly but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him. 

“I’m sensing some impatience,” he said. 

“Hella impatience,” you said.

Sam chuckled. You thought he’d say something else. You thought you’d get a warning and brace for whatever it was that he did next. But when his tongue flattened against your pussy, you leaned off of the bed with a long moan. 

Your hands flew to his head, clutching him to you. He waited with his tongue against your pussy as you panted, twisted, and turned on the bed. That small act felt like a lightning strike. Sam kept your legs open waiting for you to calm down.

You took quick, choppy breaths trying to calm yourself down. This was so fucking embarrassing. You should not be this overly excited when he hasn't even done anything yet. 

You planted your ass on the bed and then Sam groaned, licking up run away arousal. “Fuck, you taste so good. So sweet,” he said.

Your laugh was breathy. “It’s uh, been a while,” you said.

“That’s okay. Me too,” he said.

“Is this where I find out something’s wrong with you to scare off women?” You asked.

Sam laughed, kissing your thigh and leaving a wet mark behind. “I can only say that I just haven’t found the right woman yet.” 

You were going to say something else but then he started licking in earnest. As if you were his own personal ice cream cone. He moaned more, settling further onto the bed. Then he really dug in.

You scratched his scalp as he ate you out. You couldn’t stop gyrating and grinding your hips into his mouth. He moaned and sucked and licked until your legs were shaking and you were screaming out your orgasm. Screaming at the ceiling and any neighbors nearby. 

“Oh fuck!” You shook and twitched. As you came down, you leaned up. But Sam gave you a wink and dived back down, licking you again and teasing your entrance with his tongue.

“Sam?” You asked, but ended on a moan. Your clit was sensitive and you twitched with every pass. 

“I ain’t done yet,” he moaned into your pussy. 

You made a garbled, panicked sound. The hell did he mean he wasn’t done? He continued to lick and suck, wet smacking noises bouncing off of the walls. Your moans mixed with his. Both of you totally dedicated to the giving and receiving of oral pleasure. 

Your tummy tightened, contracted, pulling another orgasm out of you. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted, unable to control your body or thoughts. You were out of your mind with pleasure.

Your lungs burned since you couldn’t draw in enough air to properly breathe. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Oh fuck,” you said.

Sam leaned back and smacked his lips. You barely managed to look down at him over your belly. His lower jaw was drowning in your juices. He gave you a wink and kissed your thigh. “Okay?” He asked.

You nodded, too far gone to speak. 

“Good, I still ain’t done,” he panted. He took a deep breath and latched right back onto your clit. 

“Shit!” You yelled, trying to scoot away from him. Those muscles were not just for show. He pinned your legs to the bed, opening you up further. He held you in place as he returned to devouring his meal, heedless to your desperate pleas and cries. 

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you said as you tapped on his head.

He lifted his head. “You okay?” 

“T-too much,” you said.

“Aww, need a break?” He asked.

You nodded, tears swimming to your eyes. “I’m still hungry. Give me one more,” he said.

“What!” He returned to your pussy, licking all around your clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were unused to this much pleasure, this much bliss. Before long, another orgasm was steamrolling over you and robbing you of breath. 

True to his word, he stopped and kissed up your thighs and rubbed his wet beard into your skin. He nibbled on your tummy. You felt all of this distantly, knowing he was doing it but what was one more sensation as you calmed down from your orgasm? Your nerves were on fire. Singed right down to the atom. 

Sam rubbed your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled into the feeling. Of the tranquility you felt by his side. 

“You are so mean,” you said.

Sam chuckled. He leaned over and started kissing your cheek and jaw. You faintly smelled yourself on him and it made you want to lick his face. His lips moved lower to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve warned me that you taste so damn good. I could spend all night in between your legs. Tasting that pretty pussy,” he said.

“Fuck. Sam,” you said. You turned your head to look into his pussy drunk eyes. 

He grinned. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. “You’re really gorgeous.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” you said.

He laughed. “I hope not. I feel like I’d miss you too much even though we just met,” he said. 

You were completely limp as a noodle. You were relaxed and lethargic, incapable of doing anything more than concentrating on your breathing. However, you were a lady. 

You got to your elbows and then reached for his briefs. You cupped him, running your hands over the material. Even though the color was black, there were obvious wet spots there. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes back. 

He nudged his face against you, seeking your lips without opening his eyes. You obliged, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a heady thing. 

You did the same thing he did to you. You kissed along the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, and his beautiful chest. You moaned your appreciation for his body as you climbed down his body, grabbing his briefs and tugging them down.

His dick sprang free. Slightly curved and smooth, the tip leaked with precum. You licked your lips and settled onto the side of him so you could take him in your mouth. 

“Fuck, me,” he groaned. 

You worked his shaft into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. As you did, you bobbed your head up and down sucking him all the way to the back of your throat. His groans spurned you on to go faster, further, wanting to hand deliver the same pleasure he did for you. 

His hips started to jerk the faster you sucked him down until he was pushing at your shoulders to get up. You wiped your mouth and looked at him quizzically. 

“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he said. He gave you a dark, feral look that made your pussy throb. How was it that he was so damn gorgeous and generous on top of it? It was like you found a unicorn. Or a man built for your pleasure. 

You grinned. “I’m on the pill,” you said.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that,” he said.

You kissed his thick, powerful thighs and rubbed your cheek against his legs. The tiny hairs there tickled your face but you looked up at him. “I’m on the pill,” you said again. 

He groaned and then got to his knees on the bed. He kissed you, his big beautiful lips slanting against yours. He was a nasty kisser. Tongues dueling against each other, lips smacking, moaning and groaning into each other’s mouths. 

He pulled you onto your knees until he positioned you on your back. He fell over you and settled in between your legs, rubbing his large dick against your inner thigh. He humped you, grinding his dick against your clit.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Hell yes, please Sam. Please, I need to feel you,” you said.

Sam grinned and went back to kissing you. He used one hand to guide himself inside you and you shared a loud groan. He was large. Stretching you to your limit. 

“Fuck!” You yelled.

Sam kissed you and waited as you adjusted to his length. He slowly worked himself inside until he was able to glide more easily, aided by your essence. Once he was down to the hilt, he paused and looked into your eyes.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he said. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.

Slowly, he began moving. He groaned and sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if every slide inside of you was like climbing the staircase to heaven. Before long he was pounding inside of you, pounding you into the bed while still kissing you.

You would never get enough of kissing him. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst. He was so damn sweet and caring while being absolutely fucking nasty. You had never had sex like this. Sex that completely enveloped every inch of you and lit you on fire. Sex that made you feel seen and heard and like your pleasure came first.

He was driving your ass into the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Fuck, Sam! Fuck, Sam!” You gripped onto his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 

“Hm, give me another one. Another one, beautiful,” he said. 

As if your pussy responded to the command, you were squeezing him as you were cumming. You shouted, loudly, your body curling in on itself as the orgasm rolled through you and over you. 

“Shit,” Sam whispered against your lips as he came. His hips were still moving to the pace he set, the momentum causing him to fuck his cum into you deeper and deeper. His dick pulsed inside, filling you completely. 

“OH, fuck!” You shouted. 

Sam dropped against you and you both caught your breath. He was deliciously sweaty, and all masculine energy as he laid on top of you. He leaned to one side to try and lessen his weight but you clutched his shoulders, hugging him.

“Stay, for a moment,” you said. He was the perfect size and weight to act as a weighted blanket. He laughed as he placed his weight back on top of you.

“You’re cute. And funny,” he said, nudging his goatee against your cheek. 

“You’re cute and funny,” you echoed. Even after everything you shared, you were hungry for more. He seemed to have the same thought. He couldn’t stop rubbing against you. You welcomed it, not willing to leave him just yet.

He softened inside of you and then slowly pulled out. You were sad to miss the feel of him on top of you. He pecked your lips and disappeared into an adjacent bathroom. You heard the water running and then he was returning.

He placed a warm washcloth to your pussy and gently cleaned you up. He grinned as you made incoherent noises. He finished and returned the washcloth to the bathroom.

“Will you agree to stay ‘till the morning? I make a mean pancake,” he said.

“Mean, you say?” You asked. You stretched out like a fat cat, working out little kinks and tweaks from vigorous sex. 

“Mean as hell. Probably got sent to jail a few times over it,” he said.

You laughed at his corny joke. He sat on the bed and waited for your answer. You smiled. “I suppose I have to see if you can back up this claim,” you said. 

“Oh, I can definitely back it up,” he said.

“Oh, definitely. Someone is definitely cocky,” you said. 

Sam chuckled as he helped you sit up so that he could pull the covers off of the bed. He grabbed another one from a closet in the hallway and then draped it over you. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to you on his side. 

You talked, giggled, and kissed until the wee hours of the morning. You hated to admit it, but the pancakes were definitely mean and slamming.

Whew! Did you know I have a Sam series? Find more Sam here: The Secret Sam Wilson Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x reader #x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fan fiction

[samwilsonsbabymama]

But hear me out 18+

This is a man that will fuck you anywhere. He'd loft you up like you weighed nothing and fuck you within an inch of your life. You could be washing dishes and he'd hug you from behind and place a kiss on your neck and the next thing you know, he's got you bent over the counter as he fucked you hard and deep.

And don't get me started on how often he's fucking you raw. Man's can't get enough. From the first time you let him hit raw, Sam can't control himself.

There's rarely a day when he's home that he's not inside of you. You wake up most mornings to him either already fucking you or him sliding into you. You'dve begged him to cum in you a thousand times already and you'd beg him a thousand times more.

You'll never tire of this man and the way he fills you up.

#maree writes #sam wilson needs more love #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x black reader #sam wilson x plus size!black reader #sam wilson x black!reader

[super-marvel-dc]

Bucky: Who the fuck broke the toaster?

Y/N: It was Sam.

Steve: It was Sam.

Natasha: Sam broke it.

Sam:

Sam: ...yOU PROMISED-

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier #sam wilson x reader #the falcon x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Kate: What did you get Yelena for her birthday?

Y/N: I got her a dog.

Kate: Really? Me too!

Sam: I also got her a dog!

Bucky: Looks like we had the same idea.

Y/N: Scott, please tell me you didn’t get Yelena a dog as well.

Scott: I got her a dog!

[cuts to Yelena surrounded by dogs]

Yelena: THIS IS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!

#source: tik tok #kate bishop #kate bishop incorrect quotes #hawkeye #yelena belova #yelena belova incorrect quotes #black widow #avengers x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson incorrect quotes #falcon #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes incorrect quotes #winter soldier #scott lang #scott lang incorrect quotes #ant man #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

[sycamorelibrary754]

Merry Christmas

Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year. You and Natasha are off to the annual Stark Christmas Party. Little does the team know that a special surprise awaits them.

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is part 2 to Happy Thanksgiving! I recommend reading it first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. I hope you enjoy!

“Be down in a minute, malyshka!” Natasha called from your bedroom. 

You were standing in the kitchen eating peanut butter out of the jar topped with chocolate sauce. A “homemade Reese’s” you dubbed it. Your first pregnancy craving that had Nat popping down to the corner grocery store at 2 am for the dynamic duo of ingredients. 

“No worries, love!” Already dressed for Tony’s annual Christmas party at the compound. Clad in a green Sequin-Lace Halter Twist-Neck Jumpsuit, your baby bump beginning to show. 

The click of Natasha’s high heels signaled her arrival a few moments later in a sleek long-sleeved red scoop-back midi dress that hugged her in all the right places. 

“Wow, Nat. You look beautiful. Red is most definitely your color.” 

“So you prefer it over the black,” she smirked as she put on her earrings.

“I didn’t say that now, did I,” with a wink.

“The baby enjoying its homemade Reese’s?” grabbing her clutch. 

“Very much! I was thinking,” Putting away the chocolate and peanut butter. “Tomorrow we could make fudge!”

“Ah, because the baby has such a sweet tooth?” 

“Yes,” you giggled.

“Well, whatever the baby wants, I suppose,” wrapping her arms around you in a loving embrace before leaning down and kissing your stomach.

“You ready to drop the baby bombshell tonight?” Patting the top of Nat’s head. 

“Yes, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous,” sighing as she stood up. These are the same people who freaked out when they found out Clint had a family. How are they going to handle this?”

“Like the amazing aunts and uncles they were meant to be,” grabbing Natasha’s hand. “Plus, I think announcing it with the Christmas crackers is a cute idea.”

“I hope so,” placing a soft kiss against your lips. 

“Frankly, I’m more surprised Yelena hasn’t blabbed yet.” 

“Oh, that’s because I warned her if she told anyone I would make her run with me every morning at 5 am until the baby is born.”

“Well played,” high-fiving your wife. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Now come on, let’s go get our holiday cheer on.” 

*^~^*

The drive to the compound was even more beautiful during the holidays. A light snow fell as you passed house after house dressed in beautiful Christmas lights. Natasha placed her right hand on the center console. You softly intertwined your fingers with hers and placed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. 

You are greeted by a rush of warm air upon entering the compound lobby. Natasha shook the delicate snowflakes out of your hair and off your coat. You both step onto the elevator and are welcomed by the soothing voice of FRIDAY. 

“Merry Christmas, ladies. Welcome to the annual Stark Christmas party.” 

“Merry Christmas, FRIDAY. How’s the party so far?” You asked as the hum the elevator carried you up to living quarters.

“The party is in full swing. Mr. Stark is currently treating guests to a medley of Christmas carols.

“Of course he is,” you giggled.

“You know, he only plays that baby grand piano when he gets a bit tipsy,” Nat said. “When we got home from our month-long undercover mission in Romania, he celebrated on the jet and then made us all listen to his rendition of Dancing Queen.”

“Aww, and I missed it!” Feigning disappointment.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to joyous noise and laughter. An abundance of greens, reds, gold, and silver flashing here and there, adding opulence and brightness. Classic poinsettias tied in tradition, and shiny bows and foiled paper glistened under the 12-foot tall Noble Fir Christmas tree, inviting their recipients to sneak one open before the actual day.

“Hey, the Romanoff’s are finally here!” Clint exclaimed as his kids rushed over to both of you.

Nate jumped into your wife’s arms as you hugged Lila and Cooper. It seemed like every time you saw the Barton kids they had grown a bit more. It was thanks to Banner and Cho that you were carrying a child that would be half yours and half Natasha’s. Looking at Clint and Laura’s kids and how they resembled their parents, you couldn’t wait to see what features your little plum would inherit from each of you. 

“How’s my little namesake?” Kissing Nathaniel’s cheek. Have you been practicing the punch and kick combinations I taught you?”

“Practicing the what?” Laura asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” Natasha smirked as Nate giggled. 

“You two look great, I love the green and red thing you’ve got going on,” Clint said.

“Thank you. Lovely Christmas sweater by the way. I especially love Rudolph’s glowing nose.” you pointed.

“Hey, the Barton’s are the cream of the crop when it comes to ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Clearly,” Nat teased.

“I’ll take your coats,” Cooper offered.

“Why, thank you. What a gentleman,” you winked at Laura as you handed him yours and Natasha’s pea coats. 

You scanned the room and noticed Wanda putting the finishing touches on trays of Christmas cookies. You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder and motioned toward the kitchen. She gave you a quick nod as you meandered over to the counter. 

“Wanda, Wanda, Wanda… what do we have here?”

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you,” wrapping you in one of her signature hugs that you loved so much. “This is my parents’ Christmas cookie recipe,” she proudly declared. “I convinced Tony and Pepper to let me handle the desserts this year. So, we’ve got cookies, the Viennese torte is in the fridge and the pumpkin pie is cooling.” 

“Wow, you have been busy,” you smiled. “Anything I can do to help?” 

“Yes, you can take a cookie and go mingle. I’ll be done in a few minutes,” handing you a charming little cookie decorated like Santa. You took a bite and couldn’t believe it. It was the best cookie you had ever tasted.

“Mhmm, Wanda! This is amazing.”

“That is why I will always vouch for homemade over store bought goodies. Now seriously, go mingle,” shooing you away.

You turned back around to see your wife sitting by the fireplace talking to Steve, champagne in hand. As you started to across the room you were intercepted by a festively-dressed Kate and Lucky.

“Y/N! Hey, oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in so long! How are you?” 

“I’m good! I see you and Lucky are enjoying the party,” petting the Golden Retriever.

“Absolutely, say hello to Santa Paws and Mrs. Claus!” Kate exclaimed. Unfortunately, we’ve lost Yelena. She’s our elf,” glancing around the room.

“Wait, Yelena’s dressed as an elf?” Eyes wide. “Oh, that’s fantastic.”

“Yeah, if you see her will you send her our way? We’re supposed to be taking the photo for our holiday card tonight.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you smirked with a hand on Kate’s shoulder.

You bid the young archer and pooch farewell and rejoined your wife.

“Hey, deka,” Wrapping her arm around your waste. 

“Y/N, I was just telling your wife that she needs to find her holiday spirit and come Christmas caroling with us next week,” Steve said.

“Natasha singing? I’m not sure that would be good for community morale,” you joked 

“Says the woman who performs one woman tributes to Harry Styles in the shower?” Nat giggled.

“Hey, my rendition of Sign of the Times is highly praised, I’ll have you know.”

Tony and Pepper join your little huddle with Morgan in tow.

“Romanoffs! You have to try this Hot Buttered Rum,” Tony remarked.

“Oh, I love Hot Buttered Rum, but I think I’ll stick with sparkling cider tonight,” you said “Nat would probably love some though, right, love?” 

“Sure,” grabbing the glass from Tony’s hand as Steve looked back at you curiously.

You peered down at Morgan who was sitting on the ottoman next to the fireplace. Ever since you found out you were pregnant you were drawn to children like never before.  

“Hi, sweetheart! You look so pretty tonight,” kneeling down to the little girl’s level.

“Thank you, Aunt Y/N,” she grinned.

“Are you excited for Christmas? You are clearly at the top of Santa’s nice list this year.”

“Really?!” Morgan squealed.

“Oh, absolutely, I have a feeling the man in red is going to be very good to you this year,” you winked. 

“Did you hear that Daddy? Aunt Y/N said that I’m on the top of the nice list!”

“I sure did, squirt. I didn’t realize Aunt Y/N was so tight with St. Nick,” eyeing you coyly.

“Oh yeah, we’re on a first name basis. I’m surprised you’re not?” Smirking at the billionaire. You loved Tony like a brother, but you enjoyed giving him crap.

“Trust me, Mrs. Romanoff, I’m much closer to Santa than you are.”

“Really, do you have a direct line to the North Pole?”

“Are you having milk and cookies flown in from Holland? Because you know those are his favorite,” raising an eyebrow at you.

“Ooookay, that’s enough,” your wife placing hands on your shoulders from behind. “You both know Santa. You both have giant egos. Merry Christmas,” Nat mocked. Come on Tony, let’s go grab some hors d'oeuvrs for our better halves. I’ll be right back, detka,” leading the billionaire toward the kitchen. 

You couldn’t help but admire Natasha as she walked away. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at you with all the love in the world. You just about melted right there in front of the fireplace. Snapping out of your love daze, you noticed Pepper grinning at you.

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing. I just can’t help but notice how glowing you look tonight,” as Morgan pulled her away towards Clint’s kids and Steve strolled away to join Bucky in conversation with Rhodes. 

“Pssst… Pssst!” 

You turned around just as a styrofoam snowball was about to hit you in face. You caught it in one swift motion. 

“Nice catch,” a Russian voice said.

“Yelena, where are you?” Glancing around not seeing your sister-in-law.

“Over here,” poking her head out from the behind the seven-foot snowman next to the pool table.

“Oh, now don’t you look adorable as an elf,” you giggled.

“If you weren’t pregnant with my niece or nephew you would be hanging upside down from the rafters right now.” 

“You know Kate and Lucky are looking for you, right?” 

“Why do you think I’m hiding behind the giant snowman? Kate Bishop forced me to dress in this saccharin American Christmas costume and now she wants photographic evidence of it.” 

“Because she loves you, silly,” your arms crossed over your chest.

“Detka, it’s time for dinner. Let’s go—“Natasha stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her sister. “Oh my God,” she burst into laughter. 

“Tred carefully, sestra,” Yelena threatened. 

“No, I love it. I think this qualifies as new mission suit attire,” poking the bell dangling from her elf hat. “Maybe you can get Stark to upgrade this outfit with Widow Bites.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Yelena sneered.

“Come on you adorable elf, it’s time for dinner,” placing an arm around your best friend’s shoulder.

*^~^*

You took your seat next to your wife at the Astoria Grand Giovani dining table. Natasha quietly squeezed your hand. You looked over with a shy smile and a festive blush on your cheeks. 

Pepper stood up from her seat next to Tony at the head of the table. “Before we enjoy this lovely holiday feast, I just wanted to take a moment to tell you how grateful we are that you’re all here,” grasping Tony’s hand. “Everyone in this room knows how precious life is and we don’t take a moment of it for granted. We love you and Merry Christmas.”

“Here, here!” Thor declared a couple seats down from you as glasses clinked around the table. 

A traditional Christmas dinner soon filled your plate. Roasted turkey with all the trimmings. Home baked bread, mashed potatoes and garden veggies gently roasted, drizzled in balsamic vinegar. The group drank, were merry, and told the most terrible of jokes.

Pregnancy mood swings were becoming commonplace and as the dinner wore on, you suddenly found yourself overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of your extended family enjoying the holiday season together. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Carol looked at you with concern in her eyes from across the table.

“Oh, yeah” dabbing at the corner of your eyes with your napkin. “I’m fine.”

“The holidays always make her a bit emotional,” Natasha offered laying her head comfortingly on your shoulder.

After dinner you helped Wanda serve the desserts. The Christmas cookies took their place in the center of the table, flanked by the Viennese torte and the pumpkin pie. Coffee and dessert wine circulated around the table. 

The group of full bellies and ever so slightly sleepy eyes then made their way to the living room to relax. Christmas music softly enveloped the room as the kids were discussing what they hoped Santa was going to bring them this year. 

“Okay, Kate Bishop. Let’s get this picture over with. I want to put on my pajamas,” Yelena announced as she stood from the sofa.

“Yay!! Okay, don’t move. Lucky! Here boy,” calling the dog who promptly romped over. “Vision, can you take the picture?”

“Of course Ms. Bishop.” Taking the Canon EOS R-50 from the archer. 

“It is customary to say cheese before a picture, but since it is Christmas time perhaps you should say mistletoe?” 

“Just take the picture,” Yelena deadpanned

“Mistletoe!” Kate yelled. 

“We’re going to get one of these cards right?” Looking at your wife. 

“I had Kate put us down for two,” she smirked.

*^~^*

As night fell, you rested your weary head on Nat’s lap as she ran her fingers through your hair. 

Natasha looked at her watch. “You ready to drop the baby bomb?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ll get the Christmas crackers,” rising from the sofa.

“Umm, everyone. Y/N and I have a special gift for you all,” your wife announced nervously as you passed out the gold and silver novelties to the team. 

“Christmas crackers? I have to be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more extravagant… Oww!” Tony whined, as Pepper pinching him on the arm. 

You smiled with nervous anticipation as you reached for Natasha. The snap of the festive crackers echoed across the room. Clint was the first to reach inside and remove the tiny gift. A small round ceramic white ornament tied to a red ribbon appeared in his hand. Lila, Cooper, and Nate huddled around their dad to get a glimpse as Clint read the inscription.

“Uncle Clint?” Looking up at Natasha in shock.

“No way!” Sam shouted.

Wanda, Carol, and Kate all screamed at the sight of their own ornaments. Their names adorned with the title of Aunt.

“This is joyous news!” Thor crowed. 

Pepper got up immediately and embraced you in a warm hug as Laura did the same with Natasha. 

“How far along are you?” Wanda asked.

“Almost three months,” Yelena cut in.

“You knew?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Kate shouted; slapping her girlfriend on the arm.

“Because I want to sleep in!”

“I’m so happy for you, Nat,” Steve kissing her on the cheek. 

Bucky wrapped his arms around you with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You ready to be Uncle Bucky?” Your eyes meeting his gaze.

“Oh God,” his face like a deer in the headlights.

“You’ll be great, Buck,” you giggled. 

Bruce and Helen embraced Natasha in a tandem hug.

“I’m so relieved everyone knows,” Helen said turning to you. “Now we can openly discuss your pregnancy. Have you been continuing with your prenatal vitamins?”

And remember, you have an appointment on Friday,” Bruce interjected.

“Yes and yes,” you said as Natasha placed a soft kiss to your cheek and then another to your belly. 

Tony walked up to you with that signature smirk on his face. You mentally prepared yourself for a signature Stark one-liner or some stupid joke. Instead, he took you by surprise when he wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“Congratulations, Romanoff. Looks like you do know Santa best.” 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff and you #black widow #mcu #fluff #the avengers #steve rogers #tony stark #Clint barton #yelena boleva #kate bishop #Sam Wilson #Thor #Carol Danvers #Bruce Banner #Helen Cho #Laura Barton #Pepper Potts #vision #Morgan Stark #james rhodes #Lila Barton #Cooper Barton #nathaniel barton #avengers compound #christmas fic

[ramen-flavored]

Happy 10th Anniversary To The Superior MCU Movie

#marvel #disney plus #mcu #disney+ #disney #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #captain america the winter soldier #captain america: the winter soldier #catws #captain america #steve rogers #the falcon #sam wilson #black widow #natasha romanoff #the winter soldier #bucky Barnes #nick Fury #the SUPERIOR mcu movie #ramen-flavored #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #samuel l jackson #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #scarlett johansson

[ramp-it-up]

All I Want

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.4 K

Summary: Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. A lot of FLUFF Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. A slap on the face, organized crime, implied violent retaliation, Bucky’s arm injury implied, Steve simping for reader, reader watching porn, sloppy toppy, gagging, swallowing, coached masturbation, oral (m/f receiving) fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is a bonus for  #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask and any other requests for a part 2 to Try a Little Tenderness. Here it is babes, I hope you like it as much as the first part. Happy New Year! 🍾

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

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

Sam came, and he watched as you paced in your closed store the first day after the dust up at DUMBO. He told you minimal information, just that Bucky was alive and that he was going to stay there per Steve’s ‘request’ until he asked him to leave.

“I’m opening my store today.”

“No. You are not.”

Sam was usually nice, with that beautiful smile on display whenever he picked up Steve’s gifts. But now, he was steadfast.

You were hot. Not only at Steve for not telling you the whole story, but at everyone.

You couldn’t just sit around all day. You walked up to Sam and stood toe to toe.

“Take off that expensive jacket.”

You had an apron with the store logo in your hand.

Hours later, Sam took a break from helping you do store inventory to take a call. You kept working as he stepped into the back room. Then, you walked back to listen.

You peeked around your corner to see Sam letting out a sigh of relief.

“Good. At least that’s progress? He squeezed your hand?”

He paused.

“I know he has a long way to go, but you know Buck’s a fighter.”

“…Yes. Steve. I’m trying, but you know she’s stubborn…She’s okay. She’s a pistol, and she’s working me to death. She’s pissed at you though. At all of us. Yeah… I don’t think I can protect you from that. I’ll tell her it will be a while…”

You went back to your spreadsheet feeling some kind of way. Steve had time to call Sam, but not you. Okay.

Sam stepped out of the back room.

“Bucky’s alive. He was very badly injured, his left arm is…”

Sam paused, looking at you warily.

You looked back at him relieved, yet anxious at the same time.

“Let’s just say that he has a long road.”

You nodded and swallowed.

“What about Steve?”

You hated yourself for asking Sam. You should have been talking to Steve. But you couldn’t help it.

“He’s fine. Just has some… work to do right now.”

Your stomach dropped and you lifted your chin.

“What Steve does with his time has nothing to do with me, Sam. I don’t own him and he certainly does not own me.”

You were ready to fight.

“It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Steve’s fine, Bucky’s alive. So you can go now.”

You looked him in the eye so that he could get the message.

Sam shook his head.

“That’s not gonna happen Y/N.”

You glared at him.

“Tell your Boss that I’m sending you back.”

Sam advanced upon you, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Learn this, Y/N. Steve’s not my Boss. He’s my friend, and just like Bucky, he’s my partner. I'm doing him a favor making sure you’re alright. That’s what friends do. You can’t send me back.”

You two stared at each other. This must be what it was like to have a brother.

“You know you’re very annoying.”

“Same, lady.”

You fought the urge to laugh and wanted to stick your tongue out at him.

“Get back to work. We have the entire stockroom to count.”

Sam shook his head and obliged.

Six days later, on Christmas Eve, the bell rang, signaling someone opening the door. You turned with a smile to greet the customer to see Steve standing there.

It was liked the wind was knocked out of you.

Steve stood there, staring at you, looking very tired, but with those same sparkling blue eyes. And he had the nerve to smile at you.

“Can I have the usual?”

He was a sight for sore eyes. You’d spent the week worried and frustrated, in addition to mad as hell. But he looked so damn good.

You walked over to Steve, and gazed up at him as he beamed down on you. You did the only thing you could think to do.

You slapped him.

“How dare you!”

Sam, who was in his apron behind the register, audibly gasped, because it didn’t end well with the last woman who slapped Steve. She’d ended up climbing out of a dumpster where Steve had unceremoniously placed her.

You looked over at Sam.

“Here is your friend, Sam. Talk to him. Because I certainly won’t.”

Steve’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he rubbed his face. That fire pent up inside you signaled a need for release. He watched you hungrily as you left, then turned back to Sam.

You stormed upstairs toward your apartment, hearing the beginnings of thier conversation.

“I thought we agreed to keep the store closed, Sam.”

“Well, the store’s owner might have a little to say to that. Have you ever tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do?…”

You went upstairs, straight to the kitchen, reaching for your liquor cabinet. It was only noon, but you needed a drink.

You heard the door open behind you and did not turn around. You heard his steps into the kitchen, but you were immovable.

“Pour me one?”

You reached for a glass and slammed it down on the counter next to you, then poured some Uncle Nearest into it. You still didn’t look at him, but you shivered as he stepped behind you, nearly touching you to reach around for the glass, but only sharing his body heat.

“I deserve your anger, Ambrosia, But at the beginning, I genuinely thought that you knew who I was. I mean….”

You spun around, eyes full of fire, facing down Steve’s desire for you. And there was something else in his eyes. But you launched in nevertheless.

“At no time over dinner, or while you were sweet talking me into bed, did you mention that you were the head of an international crime organization. And then you put my business in danger. And apparently my life???”

Steve sighed and scrubbed his face.

“I know you’re angry, Baby, but you gotta listen to me.”

You closed your mouth and crossed your arms.

Steve’s face softened. At least you weren’t running away.

“I said at the beginning I thought you knew who I was. But then I realized that you didn’t know me as Steve Rogers the big bad dude, I was just that one customer who was sweet on you and sent gifts. And that made me fall for you even more.”

When he said ‘fall for you,’ your eyes went to his.

“Yeah, I said it.”

“Steve…”

You were trying to remain upset, but he was so sincere. Your resolve was weakening.

“Fall for me? You haven’t spoken to me in a week, Steve. You called Sam every day but…”

“I had work to do. Bucky was injured and he was touch and go. And I had to take care of… I had to take care of some things.”

He looked at you and slowed down.

“You had work to do? So did I. But you told me to close my store. You couldn’t have taken a few minutes to call, to text? I figured I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought.” 

You looked down at your dirty chucks, and at Steve’s Ferragamos.

Steve moved closer and tilted your head up by your chin. The electricity from his fingers was almost too much.

“No, Ambrosia.”

Steve’s eyes were wild now, and desperate. He wanted you to understand so badly, but he knew it would seem outlandish.

“You mean so much more. I fell for you because there were no expectations. I kept buying you gifts and you kept sending them back. And I thought you didn’t want me. But then when I asked you on a date and you accepted, I realized that…”

“…That all I want is you.”

You looked up at him and bit your lip. Steve could hardly contain himself.

“I can listen to you, Steve. And I would have listened if you called.”

Steve leaned down and kissed your lips softly. He groaned when you yielded to him, opening your mouth and peeking out your little tongue. He wanted to ravage you, but first, you had to understand.

“You’ve got to know. You’ve got to know that you change me Ambrosia. With you I am a different man. I couldn’t call you because you make me weak.”

Steve kissed your frown and started talking again.

“With you, weak is a good thing. I am gentle, I am kind. I am patient.”

Steve looked into your eyes. 

“I am in love.”

You gasped. 

“Steve…”

“You gotta listen. When I left, all I could think about, besides Bucky, was you. Your smile, your wit, your laugh, your body. How it felt to make love to you. To be inside you. To make you cum. Do you remember, do you remember how it felt?”

You smiled and nodded, playing with the St. Christopher’s medal around his neck.

“Look at me. Do you remember? Use your words.”

You clenched at his command. And you obeyed.

“Yes, Steve. I remember. I was sore for three days.”

Your admission and the new huskiness in your voice made him pull you closer and you could feel the pulsing in his pants. You also felt his heart beating in his chest.

“Fuck, Ambrosia. You make me wanna ruin you again.”

The way you looked at him indicated that you wanted the same. Steve felt his knees almost give out. He chuckled.

“See? You make me weak in the knees. Thoughts of you make me soft. And for what I had to do, I couldn’t be. D’you understand?”

You tried to think rationally. You knew what he was saying without saying it. He had to do horrible things. You watched the news this past week. You knew what Steve was responsible for. But you didn’t care. Bucky was always nothing but kind to you. And he was Steve’s best friend.

You thought about what you would have done in this situation. You looked back up at Steve.

“I understand.”

You bit your lip again.

“And I am still standing here with you because it is too late for me to tell you to leave. I endured Sam sleeping on my couch for a week and protecting me because I love you too, Steve. I think I have been in love with you for months now. And then, last week...”

Your hands moved to slip his jacket off his shoulders, kneading them and feeling the tension there. Steve’s eyes sought yours again.

“You love me too?”

“Yes, are you tired?”

“Exhausted, but… You want me to stay?”

“Yes…”

Your hand was on the outside of Steve’s pants, grasping his hardness and making him groan, knowing that he was leaking in his underwear. His hands moved up your sides and lifted you up to sit on the counter.

He dove into your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you gentle kisses that made you arch your back and your breasts into his chests. Then, he started sucking hickeys into you as his hands came up to knead and grasp you, and to tease your nipples with his thumbs.

“All week I’ve gone to bed and woken up rock hard to visions of you. Didn’t wanna jack off. I need you Ambrosia. Need to see you cum again. Need to bury myself deep inside you. Need for you to hug me in all the ways. Need to see your beautiful body. Need to sleep with you in my arms. I’m tired. Tired of being without you.”

You nuzzled his ear, knowing that the only important thing right now was his need. And yours.

“Sounds like you need me to suck your dick.” 

You felt bold because he wasn’t looking at you.

The man literally growled in your ear and then picked you up, still wrapped around him like a vine, and carried you to your bedroom. He sat you down on your bed and looked down on you as you looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

Steve made sure to hold your head up so you could look him in the eye. Your eyes watered as you licked your lips and took a deep breath.

“I said, I want to suck your dick.”

“That’s… what I thought you said.”

Steve continued to hold your head by your chin, and stuck his thumb in your mouth as he undid his pants. You squirmed as you got wet at the sound of his belt clanging on the floor and sucked his thumb like it was going out of style.

Steve could hardly catch his breath for anticipation and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He looked down at you as he pumped his massively hard cock in your face.

“I want to be very, very rough with you, but I’m not going to hurt you, Baby. You want this?”

Steve moved himself to within an inch of your lips.

“Please…” 

You made to move closer, but he held you fast. You almost felt his dick jump when you saw it. You squirmed again.

“Can you take it?”

You managed to extend your tongue and collect the drops of precum on his tip, making Steve shiver as his blazing eyes looked down on you.

“Fuck my face…”

“Holy!”

Steve grabbed both sides of your head as you opened wide and accepted him into your mouth.

“That hot little mouth, holy shit, Ambrosia. How do you…”

You concentrated and allowed him to push past your tonsils to your throat, then suckled him as he pulled out, tracing your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You ran your hands up his sides, tracing his v cut and abs upward under his shirt. Steve scrambled to take it off, and then pulled you off of him to take your shirt off.

“Where did you learn that?”

Steve raised his eyebrow as you grabbed for him again. He tried to be gentle, but you wouldn’t allow it, as you bottomed out again.

This time when you pulled off, gasping you said one word, “Porn,” and then started slurping sloppily again.

Steve stood there, head thrown back as you took his hips and went to town.

“Thank goodness for technology.”

You hummed your agreement, and then went for the gold.

“Ho-ho-holyyyyy. I’m gonna, fuckkkk Ambrosia, I’m gonna…”

You started gagging louder and finally, Steve took your head in order to use your mouth for his pleasure.

“It’s gonna be a lot… “

Steve was looking down on you with lust and you basked in it.

“You gonna swallow?”

You nodded eagerly, as Steve bared his teeth with an effort to hold back. You played with his balls, and he couldn’t anymore.

“Swallow like a good… fucking… girl…”

With those three thrusts, Steve sent a torrent of spend past your lips. You gulped it down and Steve thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He fell to his knees and you hugged him, assenting to his kiss so that he could taste himself on you.

“Thank you for that. Now I can think straight.”

He moved to push you back on the bed. 

“So, my sweet Ambrosia has been watching porn, huh?”

“I missed you Steve. Missed your cock.”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve was now taking off your shoes, pants, and panites. He kissed your thighs and spread your legs with his hands. He was looking deep into your intimate parts. 

“My little sweet flower. Still so beautiful. But now she’s so sloppy.”

Those blue eyes looked at you, and your cheeks warmed.

“What happened?”

That deep voice.

“You know, Steve…”

“You like sucking my cock, yeah?”

“Yes, I do. Been dreaming of it.”

Steve grunted. His cock coming back to life at your words.

“You been touching yourself?”

“I have, but nothing compares to you. Didn’t know if I would see you again. Was thinking of getting a toy.”

Steve looked angry for a second.

“Never doubt, as long as I have breath in my body. You will see me again.” 

His eyes flicked down your body, reminding you of possession.

“Show me how you touched yourself. I wanna watch. Will you let me watch you cum?”

You squirmed at the request.

“Ssteeevvveeee!”

“Don’t be shy. Look. I’ll join you.” 

Steve leaned up on his elbow and started stroking his dick, making you wetter than you already were.

You bit your lip and slid your hands from your tits down your sides, one moving back up to play with your nipple, and the other finding your clit. You licked your lips as your fingers played in your slippery slit and lubricated your button. The sound was pornographic as your movements indicated how wet you were.

You watched as Steve opened his mouth and moved his hand faster.

“Put your fingers inside, baby. Pretend they’re mine.”

You shivered as you obeyed and your thumb tuned your body to a marvelous frequency with Steve watching. It was so erotic. You started to cum when Steve started moaning. 

“How pretty. Y’look so pretty getting off. Pretty little fingers in that gorgeous hole. My sweet Ambrosia…”

He was descending toward your center, breath hot on your cunt.  He inhaled deeply, taking in the essence of you.

“Let me be your toy…”

And his lips wrapped around your vibrating clitoris, sliding it between his lips quickly at first, causing you to jump, then, when his strong hands held your thighs open, he suckled it completely into his mouth and used his tongue to try and suck the life out of you.

You screamed and Steve slipped a finger inside your tight hole, thrusting gently at first, and then  adding another finger and becoming more insistent in the quest for your orgasm.

You came very quickly, knees around his head before he pried them off and then held you open. Steve blew on your cunt to extend the sensations, and thrummed your clit while you begged him to stop. The quivers were extended as he came up and sucked your nipples, and pulling his hair only spurred him on longer.

When you finally, finally came down, your hoarse voice complained to, 

“All my stars and heavens, Steve!”

“How can you be so fucking cute and so damn sexy at the same time. My dream girl.”

Steve kissed your forehead as you grabbed his cock and started pumping.

“Gimme.”

Steve tried to frown at you.

“So demanding.”

“Steve please.”

“You want this dick?”

Your breathy “Yes!” almost made him almost cum in your hand. 

“You. Are going to be the death of me.”

Steve held your thighs in your hands and pushed them up beside you.

His stiff cock seemed to know the way home as he positioned himself at your entrance. He slid the thick head inside you as you keened as you knew his shaft was almost as thick.

“You okay, Baby?”

“Hnnngh.. Oh Steve…give me more…”

Steve almost exploded at your face and the way you were squeezing him.

“Okay.. I don’t really wanna… hurt…”

“Hurt me pleaseeeee.”

“Shiiiitttttttt.”

Steve slid into your very wet canal and stayed there as you wrapped all of your limbs around him as you got used to his girth again.

“I-I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum… inside… I can’t… you’re gripping me so… so so tight…”

“Mmmmmmghhh! Give me!”

And Steve started moving, slowly at first, and as you urged him on, faster and deeper.

“I had plans for how I was gonna… fuck…”

“Oh my god… Steve, I’m…”

“I wanted to go nice and slow… ohhhhhh…”

When he felt you quiver around him was when he started cumming.

“Fuck! It’s too soon… oh my god you feel so good…”

Steve buried his face into your neck, huffing and puffing as his cum spurted out of him and into your warm goodness. You felt every splash of his hot ejection inside you and briefly considered the consequences.

So did Steve.

“Oh shit, I came inside you.”

Steve looked pretty pleased with himself. You had to laugh.

“I can’t with you, Steve.”

“I believe you just did.”

You both chuckled as he kissed you and collapsed on the bed.

Steve pulled you close.

“Sam is probably down there dealing with customers…still got bills to pay. The lights, the mortgage…”

You were dumping the last thoughts out of your head as you were falling asleep.

“Not the mortgage anymore. Valkyrie bought it from Wells Fargo…”

Steve sighed and kissed you on the forehead, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

“Oh, ” You replied as you snuggled closer to him. 

And both of you fell into the warm embrace of deep sleep for an afternoon nap.

READ Part three I WONDER

If you liked it, please reblog!

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #ask dj #dj will answer #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x black reader x lloyd hansen #steve rogers fics #mob!steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #mob boss! steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson

[literaryavenger]

Black Panther - Post Credit Scene

Summary: Bucky comes out of the ice.

Pairing: Avengers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Nothing really for this one, maybe language. Mostly fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: I want to specify that I used google translator for the Xhosa, so I hope it's at least decent, but I thought it would be cute to put it in there. I've had this ready to go for WEEKS and I'm so glad I finally get to post it! I hope you like the idea of a reunion like this as much as I do! Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You’ve been on the run for a year now with Steve, Sam and Natasha. A few weeks after you all escaped the Raft, Clint and Scott decided to make a deal with Ross to get house arrest because being on the run and away from their families was too hard for them.

The five of you that remained went from safe house to safe house while doing as many missions as you could, never staying in one place too long and still trying to help people to the best of your capabilities, with Wanda disappearing from time to time to spend time with Vision.

Lately, though, you’ve been noticing Steve’s been a little fidgety, even disappearing here and there for a couple of days at a time.

You want to ask him what’s going on, but you don’t want to be nosy so you wait for if and when he’s ready to talk about it.

And that time comes one random afternoon as you’re all sitting around in the living room of the safe house you’re in, Wanda being off with Vision.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” He sits next to you and you nod, putting down your book to give him your full attention. “I know you’ve all been wondering where I go every now and then, and I’m glad you didn’t push it. But I’m ready for you guys to know now.”

He addresses everybody before turning to you and looking straight in your eyes as he finishes. “Bucky’s awake.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to find it in you to say anything more than “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner...” He looks actually sorry. “We just thought it would’ve been better to keep it as lowkey as possible.”

You nod and look at the floor, trying not to show your disappointment.

It makes sense. After all Steve is his best friend, his brother, his only family. You’re barely an acquaintance.

Right? 

“He asked about you.” your eyes snap back to him. “He wanted you to be there, but he understood. He’s glad you’re safe.”

“From the government or from him?” you mumble and Steve gives you an apologetic look, but lets it go.

“The thing is, I kind of need to ask you a favor.” you narrow your eyes at him and he raised his hands in surrender. “It’s nothing bad, I swear!”

“Fine,” you sigh. “What do you want?”

“It’s just, the mission we’ve been planning is important…” he looks at the plans and footprints on the table. “And only three of us are needed for it.”

You think you see where this is going. “You want me to take over your part of the mission?!” you look at him like he grew three heads. How the hell can you take on the role of a supersoldier?

“No, of course not. That’s the thing.” he quickly clarifies. “I can’t be spared for this, and we know the mission is gonna last a while.”

“Where are you going with this, Rogers?” you’re just confused now.

“Could you look after Bucky for me?”

Oh. You try hard not to look too excited about the prospect of seeing Bucky again and spending time with him.

“Are you… sure that’s a good idea?” you ask him as coolly as you can.

“It’s not gonna be hard. You just need to keep an eye on him from a distance.” good thing you managed your expectations. “Shuri’s gonna be working with him and, when he’s ready, she’ll let you talk to him.” Okay, you’re excited again.

“Uhm,” you have to at least pretend to think about it, right? “I guess, if I’m not needed on the mission and you are, I could do you this favor.”

You fight a smile as you make the mistake to look at Sam, that’s grinning, knowing full well how you feel about Bucky. You groan and roll your eyes, but he says nothing, thankfully.

“Thank you.” Steve lays a hand on your arm and smiles at you. “This means a lot to me.”

“I know.” you smile back, then hug him.

“Okay,” he says as you let go “we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

You nod and get up to finish packing the bag you were getting ready for the mission in a few days.

After you’re done, you go back to the living room to spend one last night with Sam, Steve and Nat as you don’t know how long it’s gonna be before you see them again.

The next morning you wake up thankful you’re not hungover and get your stuff with Steve’s into the jet, Sam and Nat accompanying you out to say the last goodbyes.

“I’ll miss you.” you tell Nat as you hug her “Please don’t cut your hair again while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try not to.” she laughs, hugging you back. “I’ll miss you too, Crazy.”

“Try not to miss me too much.” Sam tells you as he hugs you too, making you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Sure, birdbrain.” He groans at the nickname “Be careful.”

He nods and, after they say goodbye to Steve too, the two of you board the quinjet and make your way to Wakanda.

You are met by Princess Shuri and King T’Challa himself. You hug Steve goodbye as he makes his way to visit Bucky before his mission and to tell him he probably won’t be coming by again for a while. 

Shuri and T’Challa, who insisted you drop their formal titles, give you a tour of the palace and then take you to a guest room that’s basically a suite, and you’re shocked to find out you’ll be living here in the palace for the duration of your stay.

As promised you look after Bucky from a distance.

Every morning you and Shuri get escorted to Bucky’s hut where she works with him on his deprogramming as you and Ayo hang back.

Other than making sure he’s okay, there’s not really much for you to do so you take this time to get to know the people. It astonishes you how easy you get welcomed by the community.

You’re taught their customs by the locals, you pick up some Xhosa, not a lot but enough to have conversations and you’re even taught to fight by the Dora Milaje. Mostly Okoye and even Ayo since the two of you cleared the air after the whole airport fight.

She apologized profusely about the wound she inflicted in your arm, which has been fully healed for months now, and you assured her it was okay. You understood she was simply doing her job and admired her passion and determination to protect her king. 

Also, it turns out you broke a couple of her ribs, which you also apologized for, so you two decided to just call it even.

You got comfortable fast; dressing with their clothes, participating in their festivities and playing around with the children everyday as Shuri does whatever she does with Bucky.

You’re always careful to not get too close to be seen while still being close enough to keep an eye on them.

After their sessions Shuri always brings you up to speed and then you report to Steve to let him know Bucky’s doing good.

You’re making your way to Shuri’s lab where you’ve met her everyday for the couple of months that you’ve been in Wakanda.

“Good morning, Princess.” you tell her, bowing when you stop in front of T’Challa. “My King.”

“Stop that.” he swats at you as both you and Shuri laugh.

“Ready to go?” Ayo asks and you eye her suspiciously as she’s grinning like she does right before she makes a move that instantly knocks you on your ass during training.

“What are you up to?” you ask her but she just keeps on smiling.

“Today is the day, Agent.” Shuri tells you as smirks, knowing how you feel about the nickname.

“I’m not an agent of anything.” you roll your eyes, then register what she just said. “Wait, what do you mean, today’s the day?”

“Sergeant Barnes is ready.” she says and you can’t help the smile that comes to your face, which falls with a groan when you see them all smirking at each other at your reaction.

“Let’s just go.” you say as you turn around and start walking with Shuri and Ayo.

“Have fun!” T’Challa yells after you.

“Your order is my command, Your Highness!” you yell back and you all laugh at the loud groan he lets out.

As always, Shuri gets closer while you and Ayo hang back and she walks to the shore of the lake in front of the hut and then stops there.

You see three kids run out of Bucky’s hut, laughing, and the princess turns around as they run up to her and hug her.

“Are you playing around with that man again?” she asks, laughing. “You’re teasing him again.” she keeps teasing them as they chant ‘no’ between laughter and you can’t help but smile.

Bucky exits the hut and, like every other day, he takes your breath away. His sun-kissed skin, his Wakandan robes, his growing beard and the longer hair. The whole style just suits him.

You see him take a deep breath and then he gets closer to Shuri as the children run towards you giggling about the “Ingcuka Emhlophe”. [White Wolf]

“Uyayithanda Ingcuka Emhlophe?” you ask them. [You like the White Wolf?]

“Yena engaqhelekanga” one of the kids says and you laugh. [He’s strange]

“Kutheni ephulukene nengalo nje?” another one asks you. [Why is he missing an arm?]

You aren’t sure what to say, they are children after all, but you try your best.

“Kuba uyindoda ekhaliphileyo eyathi yenzakala xa inceda abantu.” [Because he is a brave man that was injured while helping people]

They all look at him in awe just as you hear Shuri say, “Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky.” he corrects her and you smile.

“How are you feeling today?” she asks him.

“Good. Thank you.” she smiles and motions towards you.

“Come. Much more for you to learn.” she says as she starts walking.

He takes a second to look out at the lake before following Shuri, but as soon as he spots you, he stops.

He stares as you’re giggling with the children that are now circling around you and dancing, and when you look towards Bucky again his eyes are already on you.

You blush a little at his intense gaze but he seems to snap out of it when your eyes meet his and he gets closer until he’s right in front of you.

“Sergeant.” you say, smirking.

“Doll.” he says, smirking back.

You smile at each other until Shuri clears her throat and you turn to look at her just to see both her and Ayo with a smirk of their own. You roll your eyes at them, but your smile stays on.

“Shall we?” Shuri says and starts walking, Ayo right behind her.

Bucky takes your hand and starts walking after Shuri too, pulling you with him, both of you feeling like nothing could wipe the smiles off your faces.

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse @multiversefanfics

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #shuri #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #scott lang #tchalla #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #y/n stark #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #black panther #marvel fanfiction #mcu #wakanda #ayo #white wolf

[blkgirlsreadfanfic2]

for fanfic writers and readers

as a black girl who loves a lot of different movies and shows, fanfic allows me to read stories that put me in the middle of my favorite things. however, fanfic often (unintentionally) excludes girls who look like me.

i am so sick and tired of reading a fanfiction and having to rewrite it in my brain because a character description immediately implies that the reader is white. if you don't know what i mean, here are some examples.

"your skin turned pink" or "you blushed": black girls and women with darker skin tones CANNOT blush. our skin does not just turn pink

"pulled your hair into a messy bun": my 4a hair cannot be pulled into a messy bun at random. i may be able to do a ponytail if i have braids in, and i might be able to tie it up if I have an old twist-out, but a "messy bun" is often not possible.

"he ran his hands through your hair": yeah...unless my hair is in a silk press (and an OLD silk press), that's not happening

there are a plethora of other examples that would make this post insanely long, so let me get to the point. there are very easy ways to make fanfic a bit more inclusive; all you have to do is tweak a few character descriptions. OR, put in your pairing or warnings that the reader is implied to be white.

and finally: please, please stop tagging your DARK fanfictions "xblack!reader." i am tired of searching for fluff under the black reader tag and finding non-con, dark themes, etc., ESPECIALLY when the fic ends up being for a white reader💀.

the goal of my page is to create a safe space for black girls who love reading fanfiction. i am only one person, so if you'd like to help, here are some ways to do that!

send me fics (preferably marvel and stranger things to start) that are with a black reader

comment some other things in fanfics that imply that the reader is white or that make the fic a little less accessible

REBLOG FICS BY BLACK WRITERS

#blkgirlsreadfanfic2 #black reader #black fem reader #black relationships #black female reader #peter parker x black!reader #robin Buckley x black!reader #sam wilson x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x black!reader #steve harrington x black reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #black!fem!oc #black!y/n

[megamindsecretlair]

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 10

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. Cursing, fingering (fem receiving), PIV, slight cum play, , pet names, Soft Sam. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you somehow managed to snag Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. It has been a year since you started dating Sam and things couldn't be more perfect.

Word Count: 3,212k

Masterlist

A/N: I desperately needed some fluff, and Sam is always good for that. Ugh, these two make me sick. SICK! But they're my babies! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth

One Year Later…

Sam drove you into work while you chatted his ear off about your upcoming interview. You were so nervous! While you will miss working at the front desk with Ariel, it was high time that you branched out and did something else.

It had been one year since your coffee date with Sam and glancing over at him, you were damn glad you said yes. He was so handsome, it made you sick. 

“If you say I got somethin’ on my face, we’re gonna have a problem,” Sam said and chuckled.

“Relax. Can’t I look at you?” You asked.

“You can look at me all day long, as long as I get to look right back,” Sam said. He stopped at a red light and grabbed your hand. He brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss there. Your toes curled in your shoes. 

“Sounds like a deal to me,” you said.

You flipped through your portfolio one more time. Sam glanced at you and laughed. “You are going to do great. You were practically doing the job already,” he said.

“I can still be nervous! I didn’t know how much I wanted this job until Mr. Bell suggested I toss my hat in,” you said.

“You know that’s his way of saying that you practically got the job,” Sam said.

You nudged his shoulder. “That’s not true!” 

Sam threw his hand up and shrugged. You giggled and ended on a sigh. Maybe he was right, but that didn’t mean you could coast through the interview. While Sam was off with Steve hunting down James Barnes, you had taken over some of his meetings unofficially. The director, Mr. Bell, had suggested that you try and you nearly threw up after the first meeting. The hell did you know about leading a group? 

However, the vets responded to you. Though you weren’t one yourself, you had a little advice to throw around. A little something that they resonated with. Mr. Bell said that you were a natural listener and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

While Sam seemed to be gone more and more, chasing down every shadow that crossed his way, he agreed to a part time role while Mr. Bell found someone a little more consistent. There had been a series of “trial counselors” while Mr. Bell searched for a natural fit. Someone to take up Sam’s mantle and carry it on. 

You didn’t think he knew about you and Sam, but you weren’t keeping it a secret either. How could you? You wanted to kiss him every chance you got. Now, when you stared in the hallway, he stared right back. You got to look at his ass all day and he got to flirt with you from down the hall.

Sam parked and held your hand as you walked to the front of the VA building. Right outside the door, Sam stopped. He stepped closer, looked at you, and licked his lips. You sighed as his lips descended on yours. You never tired of Sam’s kisses. 

The way he took his time. The way his lips felt against yours. The way he gripped your hips as if it physically pained him to withdraw and rest his head against yours. “Gonna be thinkin’ bout them lips all day,” he said.

“You say that all the time,” you said, with a giggle. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling the strength of him. It still amazed you that he was yours. That you could literally kiss him whenever you wanted to. Like now.

You pressed your lips to his and you felt him smile around it. “Give me one more then,” he said. 

You giggled and kissed him again, lingering for longer this time. 

“Hm, just you wait till tonight,” he said.

“Hm, don’t get me started if you can’t finish,” you said.

“You two are going to make me puke!” Ariel’s voice called out from somewhere behind you. You giggled and craned your neck to see her walking towards the front door. 

“As if you and Ruby aren’t just as sickening!” You tossed back.

“We don’t flaunt it at work. Ya nasties!” Ariel cackled as she went inside. You sighed and looked at Sam. He only playfully rolled his eyes. He kissed your cheek.

“Before you head inside, I wanted to tell you that I got invited to an Avengers party,” he said. 

“What! Sam!” You shrieked. Partying with the Avengers? Holy shit! You jumped up and down but Sam was not jumping with you.

“How are you not more excited?” You asked.

“I think I’m still really shocked. These are the Avengers! Like, I feel like Steve is gonna smack me and tell me he’s kidding,” Sam said.

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t. His smacks will land you in the middle of the Hudson,” you said.

Sam laughed at your joke and shook his head. “Be my plus one?” Sam asked.

“Are you insane?” You asked. You go party with the Avengers? Was he out of his rabbit ass mind?

“Please? I hear Thor’s going to be there too,” Sam pleaded. He grinned and you rolled your eyes. You thoroughly regretted telling him that you thought Thor was the hottest Avenger. He was so dreamy. 

You smacked your lips and leveled Sam with a stare. He only poked out his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe you’re going to make me embarrass myself in front of the Avengers!” 

Sam did a little jig and you pushed him away from you. He was so damn corny. He raced ahead of you to open the door and made a show of gesturing, “After you.” 

You rolled your eyes and went inside. He matched your pace and grinned from ear to ear. “This is exciting and I want you there with me. Can you blame me for that? I promise I’ll protect you from embarrassment,” he said.

“You better. If I turn into an incoherent puddle, you’ll have to scoop me into a bucket. Oh man, my mom is going to freak out when I tell her,” you said.

“Not looking forward to that conversation. But I can be there while you tell her, help ease her mind?” Sam volunteered.

“Would you?” It was your turn to give him puppy eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose. 

“You know I will,” he said.

Meeting your mom went nothing like you expected. You thought your mom would freak at meeting someone new. But you had steadily told her some things about Sam. About how he worked with the vets, was kind, compassionate, and had a strong character. She practically fell in love with the man herself.

When he showed up, your mom toned down her crazy. She asked Sam a bunch of questions and didn’t balk at learning that he hung out with Steve on a regular basis. Both of your parents thought it was very fancy that you knew Steve well enough to use his first name. 

Sam charmed the pants off of your parents, even your grumpy dad. Once learning that Sam was also a vet, they hit it off and talked shop all night. Your dad lit up like a Christmas tree, talking about the time he served. You left the men to their devices while you helped your mom set the table. Your siblings behaved themselves as well. They kept their Captain America questions down to about…three hundred or so.

Sam was a sport. He answered all of their questions and then some. You kept waiting for him to get sick of your family. Or to signal that he was ready to leave. Or for your parents to say or do something embarrassing. You were ready with an apology whenever something went wrong. But it never happened. The evening was about as close to perfect as you could get.

It went so well, that when you walked Sam to the door, you couldn’t hold back the tears. That was the first family dinner you didn’t have to swoop in and save the day. You still recalled how nasty your mom was the day before when she realized all of the dishes in the sink. As if you hadn’t been working all day and she wasn’t at home to do it herself.

Sam pulled you into a hug and just held you there next to the door until you apologized for ruining his shirt. He told you not to worry about it, but well, when did you not worry? 

You made plans with Sam to come over later to tell her about the Avenger party. An Avenger party! Holy hell, you were going to an Avenger party! What kind of life were you living right now? 

You said goodbye to Sam at his meeting room. He held your hand and wished you luck on your interview. You went to the front desk where Ariel was sitting at her desk, pretending to read a magazine.

“You know that’s upside down,” you said. You entered the front desk, closing the barrier behind you, and dumped your things on the desk. 

“Never mind that! What’s got you so damn happy?” Ariel asked.

“Cone of silence?” You asked.

“Oh, this is going to be good! Fine, yes,” she agreed.

“Sam got invited to an Avenger party and asked me to go with him!” You squealed. Ariel squealed with you, but you were both careful to keep it contained. You were still in a government building and had to maintain decorum. The minute women started hooting and hollering, the building would collapse. 

“And you couldn’t swing an invite for me. Hater,” Ariel said with a grin. “Girl, this is big! Slide that fine ass Hawkeye my number!” 

“Stop it! What will Ruby say?” You asked.

“Hell, we both love him. He knows he needs a little double scoop of chocolate in his life!” 

You cackled with Ariel as you went about your day, counting down the minutes to your interview. Your leg bounced like crazy as you ran through your potential answers. Why were interviews so nerve wracking? 

It was the twenty-first century. Couldn’t they let people prepare properly? Surprising people with questions they have no hope of preparing for just seemed cruel. Awesome, experienced people could be missing out on jobs left and right simply because they interviewed poorly.

You mentally climbed off of your soapbox as you headed upstairs to your interview. You were pretty sure you answered Mr. Bell’s questions properly. But there was one other person there, Ms. Soto, and she was an icicle. While Mr. Bell gave it more of a casual, relaxed atmosphere, Ms. Soto was a wet blanket. She gave you nothing at all.

Afterwards, they thanked you and excused you out. Calling in the next candidate. Well, you did your best and that was all you could do. You headed downstairs, back to the front desk, where Sam was chatting with Ariel.

“Whatever she tells you, don’t believe a word of it,” you said. 

Sam smiled when he saw you and kissed your cheek. “I’m still trying to figure out what happened in Vegas,” Sam said. “But she’s better than some prisoners of war.”

“Damn straight,” you said and hi-fived Ariel. 

Sam laughed and shook his head. His knuckles tapped on the top of the desk. “So? How’d it go?”

You gave them the rundown of your interview. Sam waved off your concerns about Ms. Soto. “Her face always looks like that. She frowned once in ‘87 and hasn’t cracked a smile since,” he said.

You giggled and let him pull you into a hug. He always knew how to lighten the mood and get you out of a funk.

“Coffee?” You asked.

“So much yes,” he said.

“Don’t ya’ll see each other like…every day? Ain’t ya’ll sick of each other?” Ariel asked, playfully. She gave you the side eye and you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Hell no!” You said. 

Ariel sighed dramatically. “Kids, you know they grow up so fast,” she said. 

You and Sam cackled as you made your way to your favorite corner cafe.

Later that evening, you were on the couch watching TV with Sam. He had James Barnes’ information spread out on the coffee table as had become his habit the past few months. He was no closer to finding the man than he had been when he started a year ago.

“He’s a trained ghost, babe. It would go against everything Hydra did to him if he was easy to find,” you said.

“Yeah, but how many dudes walk around with a metal arm? Someone’s seen him,” he said. He rubbed his head as he poured over the same grainy photographs and redacted information. 

“This is starting to get to you, huh?” You asked.

He sighed and sat back on the couch. He pulled your legs over his lap and rubbed deep circles into your thighs as he stared at all of the papers. 

“Yeah. I hate feeling like I’m letting Steve down,” he said.

You rubbed his bicep and looked at his profile. Poor man. He looked so dejected. “You can’t let Steve down. Pretty sure it goes against the rules,” you said.

Sam chuckled. “What rules?” 

“The bald eagle rules,” you said. 

Sam tore his gaze away from the Barnes’ file and you grinned. He closed his eyes and sighed. “You know you want to laugh, c’mon,” you said.

“Absolutely not. I’m gonna tell him you said that too,” Sam said.

“What! Noo!” You whined. 

“Too late. Gonna tell him at the party too. Make sure everybody hear it,” Sam said.

“Don’t do me like that.” You pouted but it was hard to keep a frown around the man. “Please?” 

“I might know a way to convince me not to tell,” Sam said.

You giggled, pretty sure you knew where this was going. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“Let me taste them sweet lips,” he said. He leaned over, capturing your lips with his. You sighed into the kiss, melting completely. All Sam had to do was bat them perfect brown eyes and you were instantly gone, wanting and needing more. 

Sam pulled you completely into his lap, your legs settling on either side of his hips. You kissed for minutes or hours, you couldn’t tell. There was just the wet smack of your lips dueling with his. Of his tongue sliding against yours. Of his deep, satisfied hums as you made out. 

You began to squirm, getting worked up from his kisses alone. He rubbed your booty, from the top to the bottom. Cupping your ass in his strong hands. You moaned against him, helpless and incapable of not moving against him.

The more you squirmed, the more you felt him getting excited. His dick swelled beneath you and you moaned louder, wanting the promise that part of him delivered. Sam pulled back and lazily looked into your eyes.

“You ready for me?” He asked.

“You know I am,” you murmured, already diving down for more of him. He tasted faintly like coffee. His hands ventured higher, under your shirt, kneading the muscles in your lower back. 

Your whole body shivered as he zeroed in on pressure points. “I wish I could bottle these hands,” you moaned.

“No need to, you got me right here,” he said. He kissed along your jaw and your neck, swirling his tongue there. You giggled, pulling away. But you were in his lap and there was nowhere to go. 

Sam pulled your purple shirt - his purple shirt - off and his eyes widened to see that you were braless. He immediately suckled one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. Each suckle tugged on your pussy and you throbbed. You needed him so bad. 

Sam’s hands pulled your panties to the side to find you soaked. He moaned against your nipple. “Fuck,” he whispered. He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention while he lightly grazed your pussy.

You trembled on top of him. The dual sensations were driving you insane. You were so insatiable. You gyrated on top of him, taking your pleasure where he wanted to go slow. 

“Mhm, don’t wait for me,” he encouraged. You fucked yourself on his fingers, setting the pace and pressure with a swing of your hips. You were cumming before long. Sam stopped suckling your titties and just watched as you came undone on his fingers. 

“That’s it. Damn, you’re so beautiful when you cum. I just want to watch it over and over,” he whispered as you moaned and jerked. 

Keeping your panties to the side, Sam moved his boxer briefs down just far enough to free his dick. He moved the tip through your folds, getting it nice and wet before he plunged inside.

You gasped at the sudden fullness. A year of this and you still weren’t completely used to him. “That’s it, that’s the face I like,” Sam said. 

You released the air in choppy waves as you slid fully onto him, down to the hilt. You dropped your head onto his shoulder as he slowly moved you up and down. You helped, leaning up on your knees and then sinking back down.

Sam slowly fucked you, whispering how gorgeous you were, how lucky he was that he got to be in your presence, and how he would do everything in his power to protect you. Tears sprang to your eyes as you came once more, flooding his dick with your arousal. 

“Fuck, Sam. You feel so good. I’m the lucky one. I got to exist at the same time as you,” you whispered against his lips and sealed it with a kiss.

Sam groaned into the kiss as he released himself inside of you. The warm cum painted your insides. You moaned, feeling impossibly full. Still, he moved inside of you, his cum aiding him in sliding better. 

“Fuck, please, please, another,” he said.

He desperately chased your hips, speeding up inside of you. “Sam, Sam, Sam,” you moaned. Already, you felt your orgasm building up again. As if he called it up himself with every slap of his hips. 

Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, holding on for dear life as he speared you with deep, desperate thrusts.

“C’mon little one,” he cooed.

That damn nickname. You exploded with a jerky gasp, clinging to him as your body floated above you. Bliss overwhelmed you. He rubbed your back but it was like you could and couldn’t feel it. You were too far gone, too lost to pleasure. 

As you floated down, Sam kissed you all over. Your breasts, your neck, your jaw, your lips, your cheek. There was no inch of your face that he didn’t kiss.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, it hurts,” he whispered.

“Sam..” You kissed him, passionately. Holding him to you. You were as close as two people could possibly get. Yet, you crushed him anyway. Held him close as if you could absorb him. 

“Take me upstairs,” you whispered in his ear.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said with a soft chuckle.

Masterlist | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x plus size reader #Sam Wilson smut #marvel smut #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fanfiction #Sam Wilson fan fiction #Sam Wilson imagine #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson x reader

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 9

True Romantic

Series masterlist

Previous part: Twinkles Next part: Star crossed lover

Word count: 7,040

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

As soon as you left your apartment for your meeting with Fury, Steve raced to his own place. As fast as he could, he took a shower and got dressed and as presentable as he could in the short amount of time that he had before fast walking all the way to Fury's office.

In the hallway and outside of Fury's door, there was already a small group of Avengers awaiting the end of the meeting to find out what you chose to do.

Bucky leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers against it. Natasha was trying her hardest to read Fury's lips through the small window in the office door, unfortunately she couldn't see your lips or facial expressions since your back was facing the door. Tony was also there, but he was trying his hardest to pretend like he couldn't care less about any of this debacle. Sam was there too, but mostly because he just wanted to be where Steve and Bucky were. As crazy as it was, you and Sam had never met each other before regardless of how close you both were to the boys, but based off the stories that were told back and forth, the two of you might as well have been friends this whole time.

Steve let out a breath of relief as he approached, knowing for sure now that you were still on the meeting and hadn't missed the Avenger's interrogation to follow.

All of the Avengers turned their heads to investigate Steve's fast approaching steps, but he didn't hold their attention for more than a couple seconds as they all turned back to continue their investigation.

"Fury is smiling." Nat informed Steve, still on her tippy toes staring through the small window.

"Fury never smiles" Steve noted, leaning against the wall next to Sam.

"I didn't even know she was back at the compound." Bucky told Steve.

"She came home last night, I didn't know she was coming back either." Steve told him.

"Oh so 306 sneaking into your apartment was a surprise to you too?" Tony asked Steve, obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

Steve didn't miss the way Bucky's eyebrows raised, or the snickering coming from Sam and Natasha. "You make it sound so naughty"

"Just calling it how I saw it. Deflecting much?"

"So you two really made up, huh?" Bucky flung his arm around Steve's shoulder.

"Oh my go- no. I mean, yes, we did make up. But no, nothing weird happened." Steve confirmed... and denied. Either way, his cheeks felt hotter than the surface of the sun. "What? Were you spying on me?"

"No, I was just walking down the hallway and was visually assaulted by the sight of a woman way out of your league opening your door." Tony explained. "Don't really know what else that could be other than a Star Spangled booty call"

"Unlike you, I respect women too much to participate in booty calls, whatever that means." Steve huffed in disgust. "Not that it's any of your business, she was actually just being a good friend. I was having a tough night and she came to cheer me up."

"Oh, I bet she came alright" Sam joked with a wink, voice taunting Steve.

"That's my boy!" Bucky held his hand up for a high five from Steve, but he was left hanging and earned a death glare.

"You boys are all stupid, I think this is all code for Rogers had a panic attack last night." Natasha noted, eyes never leaving the window.

"Alright, Cap, what's more embarrassing for you? Admitting you were clapping cheeks or having a breakdown." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing embarrassing about either of those things, but I prefer to keep both of them to myself. Thank you very much." Steve refused to let them get a rise out of him.

"What a noble answer" Sam noted.

"306 is signing papers, Fury is laughing." Nat updated.

"I didn't know Fury was even capable of laughing." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"She must be really charismatic if she has the big guy laughing and seems to have you boys wrapped around her finger." Sam theorized.

"Or she's demonic. Maybe she practices witch craft and puts spells on people." Tony agreed.

"If that was the case, the poor girl wouldn't be terrorized and miserable every day of her life." Natasha defended you. "Maybe she's happy she can finally get the hell out of here."

"You think she's going to leave for good, pal?" Bucky questioned looking right at Steve who was looking down at the floor.

"No." Steve lifted his eyes to look at Bucky while shaking his head. "Fury wouldn't be happy if she was leaving. She makes his life too easy. If she left he would be losing a lot."

"What ever ended up happening to that guy? The one that go her really hurt?" Tony asked.

Steve sighed. "He's on a final warning, one wrong move away from getting fired and black listed from the compound."

“Why do I feel like that's always the case, yet he keeps doing shitty things and he's still here?" Sam asked.

"It's not always him that's doing it, his punk friends aren't any better." Steve said regretfully. "Admittedly I've been trying for a while to get him out for good but he's slimy, always finds a way to slip right through."

Nat turned her head away from looking in the window for a few moments to look at the sad look evident on Steve's face. "Why didn't you tell me? Give me 10 minutes of digging and I'll find some dirt to get him out of here."

"If you can do that, I'd be the happiest man on the planet." Steve encouraged.

Natasha's eyes went back to the door. "Everyone shut up they're standing and shaking hands!"

"Act normal!" Sam announced.

Nat took a big step back and leaned against the wall with everyone else. The door swung open and Fury came out first.

He looked at everyone, but didn't even stop walking while announcing "I'm not even going to ask."

Then, out came you.

Steve couldn't even stop himself from smiling when he saw you, and he was painfully aware of it. You looked just as pretty as you did an hour and a half ago, and it still made his heart beat unfortunately fast.

You stopped in your tracks when you noticed the group that had formed in the hallway. Feeling a bit confused, you looked down the hall to the left, then the right, then you looked behind you.

"I'm confused, what's happening?" You asked. Intimidation overtook the confusion.

Your brain raced and started overthinking when you saw Natasha. Now that her and Bucky were dating, you wondered if she knew what happened and if it would make her not like you. The thought of that happening made you sad, all you wanted was to be friends with her.... And Sam. Why was Sam here?

"You're what's happening, Bug." Bucky confirmed.

"What did you choose to do?" Steve asked, Hope smeared all over his face.

With a blank face, you looked down at the signed contract in your hands before lifting it up to show them.

All four of the Avengers in front of you took a step or two forward before squinting their eyes at the paper, there was a moment of concentration as they all read the header.

Contract of employment: The Avengers Initiative.

Immediately following, there was a lot more celebration than you ever anticipated. You stood with a smile on your face as there was some gasping, shouting, jumping up and down from Sam and Bucky, you're pretty sure you caught a glimpse of Nat whacking Steve's arm, and Tony saying I knew it a few times.

That was all before Sam walked over to you to give you an unsuspecting hug that you happily granted him. But all was not as it seemed because that hug turned into you being picked up and spun around.

Your squeak of surprise didn't go unnoticed by Steve who was quick to pick you up out of Sam's arms and return your two feet back to the floor before giving you a hug of his own. But because they were Avengers, and the chaos seemed to never trail too far behind them, Bucky joined that hug too.

Being held by both of the boys was healing in a way you didn't quite know you needed. Especially when you could tell neither of them were harboring resentment or hard feelings. It felt normal, happy even.

Then Nat joined, followed by Sam, then Tony walked away because he definitely wasn't going to get in on that.

Your head was smushed into Steve's chest so you couldn't really see much, but you could hear Sam. "Nice to finally meet you, 306."

"You too, Sam." You giggled at how unable you were to move any part of your body in the big Avengers hallway cuddle. "We should grab a coffee one day."

"Not before I get to spend a day with you!" Nat spoke, fighting for your time. "Rogers says you like to eat, so we're going out to eat with no boys."

"Steve, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You questioned jokingly, trying your hardest to lift your head to look at his face.

"That is not what I said." Steve defended himself with a shake of his head and a laugh. "I said you love food, like your eyes light up when you have food in front of you. Don't twist my words!"

"Mmmhmm" You said suspiciously.

"Are you free to get dinner tonight?" Nat asked you, releasing you from her arms.

Sam followed by letting you go, but it was clear that Bucky and Steve had no interest in dropping their arms, but at least now you could look at Nat as she spoke to you.

Your head immediately went to all of the stuff you needed to get sorted out. Bucky, Steve, telling Luca you were an Avenger, definitely calling your parents.

“Wait, not tonight." Steve reminded Nat. "We have that thing tonight, remember?"

"Oh! Right! So I'll be seeing you tonight anyways! That works for me." Nat said.

"Oh and me too. We all get her!" Sam enthused.

"What thing tonight?" You questioned.

A beeping sound came from Sam and Nat's smart watches, they both read the notification. "Well, duty calls. Congratulations, 306, so happy to have you on the team and I'll see you later!"

"Welcome to the team" Sam waved before they walked off together leaving just you, Steve, and Bucky.

"This is nice and all, but will one of you tell me what's happening tonight?" You asked the two boys who were still holding on to you.

"The team is going to a winery to celebrate the new addition!" Steve told you.

"That's suspiciously fast planning" you raised an eyebrow.

"Be ready to go by 6 o'clock, you're going with Steve." Bucky told you. "We can't get drunk, so obviously, we're going to drive."

Bucky let go of you, and only then did Steve let you go too.

"I guess that makes sense" You nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious and painfully aware that this was the first time the three of you have been together since that night before evaluation.

The boys read your body language like a hawk, especially when your big smile finally fell and your arms crossed over your chest, while your back leaned onto the wall.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, eyes filling with concern.

You let out a chuckle before standing up straight again, arms falling back down to your side. "Just overwhelmed. I still can't really comprehend what this means for me but I guess this is the only way to find out."

Steve could read between the lines. "You're worried about how the agents are going to react to this?"

"Yeah" You nodded. On the wall was a big Avengers A logo, and under it was an electronic screen displaying the names of the entire team. The boys eyes followed your finger as you pointed directly at it. "My name is already on it. The word is already out and admittedly, I'm a little scared to walk back to my apartment."

"I'll walk you home." Steve understood your anxiety.

Even a couple weeks ago you were getting shoved into walls and tripped by your peers when you gave them no reason to be angry. But now, they had a whole lot of grounds for jealousy. They both knew that probably wasn't the safest situation for you to be living in.

"We're always here in the compound, Bug." Bucky reminded you. "If you need us to hang out with you until the buzz dies down, we will."

"Thanks, Buck." You said genuinely, but you couldn't get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that settled deep in your stomach. You knew you just had to address what happened. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming back. I just decided last night and when I got back it was late and-"

"Don't sweat it" Bucky denied your apology. "Don't sweat anything. We're fine."

His words made the heaviness feel so much lighter. A sigh of relief escaped your lips "we're fine?"

"We're fine." Steve agreed.

All you did was open your arms again for another hug from them, feeling more than ready to put this all behind you. Once again they happily accepted, one arm squeezing each of them tightly.

"I really love you guys." You reminded them, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears of relief that started prickling through.

"Love you too, both of you." Steve smiled.

"You both already know how much I love you" Bucky announced. "All I ever want is for you guys to be happy, whatever that may look like."

You nodded in response to his statement. There was an understanding that he was giving the two of your his blessing to date without embarrassing Steve, especially because he's had no recent updates and you've never admitted to Bucky that you were also painfully in love with the idiot. But Bucky knew, of course he knew, he was far too smart and level headed to be fooled by either of you.

"Will you give me the updates on you and Natasha?" You asked him, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

"Oop! Gotta go!" Bucky let go of you and started booking it down the hallway. "See you later!"

You and Steve laughed at his dramatics. But now that it was just the two of you, you finally let your shoulders slump and your real emotions poke through.

"You're terrified." Steve sympathetically noted.

"Not even of the job. How sad is that?" You questioned. "I'm also just... still tired. Being back at the compound is challenging."

"I can only imagine." He understood what you were trying to tell him. Though things were getting better, healing takes time. Steve could still see that part of you that just wanted to go lay down and avoid the world trying to fight through the brightness in your eyes. "But you don't have to be alone this time, and you're a tough cookie."

"An overwhelmed cookie, but a tough overwhelmed cookie." You agreed.

"I'm really proud of you." Steve emphasized. "Your success is a hard journey under perfect circumstances, yet you've made it look easy while facing a lot of adversity. It's no wonder to me why you're always exhausted, but I'm confident that once all the tension within the agents dies down, you'll find that a spot on the team means you'll have a lot more time to relax."

You let his words sink in and validate all of the hardship you sometimes felt crazy for. "Thanks for helping me get here. I don't know if I could've done it without you."

"It was all you" Steve denied your statement. "It always has been."

"I know you think that, but I don't, so thank you anyway."

"What can I do to help you feel less overwhelmed?" Steve asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I think I need to call my Mom."

"You should definitely call your Mom" Steve agreed with a giggle. "I actually have a few things for you, do you want to hang out at my place for a little bit? We can just chill out for a while, you can call your parents, I'll fill you in on some things?"

"Yes please" You agreed, enthusiastically nodding your head. His apartment was down the hallway, and yours was across the building. Knowing you could just relax on his couch while he convincingly told you all the reasons why you didn't need to be so scared sounded like heaven to you.

Steve grinned at your willingness to continue spending time with him. "Come on, let's go."

You walked along side him down the hall to his apartment, then happily plopped onto his couch.

"Stay right there, I have surprises!" Steve pointed at you as you settled into the very corner, tucking your feet underneath you and pulling his blanket over your lap. It was still pretty cold despite the shining sun.

"Surprises? Why do you have surprises?" You asked loudly so he could hear you as he disappeared into his bedroom.

"Because you love surprises!" Steve called out in response.

You could hear his closet door open then shut again. "Only when I know what they are!"

"Then it's not a surprise." He challenged as he walked back into the living room, a small box and a garment bag you recognized.

All uniforms in the compound came in that same garment bag, it was made of a heavy cotton twill. Always grey, always with an Avengers 'A' embossed on the back, a sleek black zipper down the front.

"Let's start with the obvious" Steve said, handing you the garment bag by the hanger.

Thinking you knew exactly what it was, you unzipped the front expecting your old suit to be remade exactly how it was before it was destroyed. Instead, upon taking it out you noticed it had been changed.

It didn't look like all of the other agent uniforms, instead this one was all jet black like Natasha's. Black hardware, black industrial fabric, your last name stitched into a label that fit right along your  collarbone. It reminded you of how Steve's suit had a small little 'Rogers' tag on it.

But unlike Natasha's suit, yours had a more pronounced chest plate that almost looked like a bodice. You could tell from the feel of the material it was made out of that it was bulletproof. The whole garment, down to all of its details had you speechless.

It was beautiful, sleek, tight, functional, and dare you say... sexy?

Then you saw it, on the shoulders where you usually dawned a shield logo, there was an Avengers logo.

The loss for words remained as you looked back up at Steve who was anticipating your reaction. "How-"

"The team has a new tradition. We all come together to design the suit of the members, and this is what we came up with for you." Steve explained. "You needed a new suit anyway, we all knew in our gut that you belonged with us, hence why it's already made and in your hands."

"Did you do this?" You questioned, still a little stunned by how much you loved it.

"All of us did." Steve told you. "Well, I got the ball rolling and Natasha called most of the big shots considering, you know, she's a woman and she'd be better at making those choices anyway... but yeah. I know how important family is to you so I made sure your family name was on there, oh, and all your pockets. I remembered that you loved the pockets on your last suit so I advocated for those to stay. But of course if you don't like it we can revise-"

"It's beautiful" You cut him off with a shake of your head, genuine smile on your face. "I love it, thank you."

"Oh and look at this!" Steve enthused, sitting next to you on the couch. He took off the front panel of your suit and showed you the inside. "Luca has been a big part of your journey and obviously a big supporter of the Avengers, so we stitched a little L right over where your heart is so he can have a small part in the team and go on missions with you."

"Stop it right now." You pouted your lip as you looked at the L embroidered into the lining. "That's so cute, it's going to make me cry. He's going to be so happy."

"I'm glad you like it" Steve grinned.

You shook your head. "I love it, it's so thoughtful."

Then Steve handed you a small box that was perfectly wrapped in brown paper with a blush pink satin ribbon tied in a bow nicely wrapped around it. "This is also for you." This time, he seemed a bit shyer.

"A present? Why a present?" You questioned sweetly, unable to understand why he got you something.

"Because you deserve your accomplishments to be celebrated!" Steve enthused.

You smiled at his statement as you untied the bow and unwrapped the paper. Underneath the wrapping was a pair of airpod max headphones, the exact color you'd been contemplating getting yourself for months but never did because you knew how expensive they were.

There was also an immediate recognition your mind was quickly drawn to about how modern these were to your timeless best friend. He's gifted you music before in the form of vinyl records, a cocktail in a live jazz bar, you two even saw a concert together once. But these? They were picked out with you and only you in mind.

They were a sign that he actually listened to your silly complaint about the headphones one time in passing, and maybe even a way of telling you he actually did care that one time he claimed he didn't out of anger.

Though you loved them, and they were the nicest most thoughtful gift you could've ever been given, you were flooded with immediate guilt.

"Steven" You shook your head.

His smiles stretched wider at your reaction because he knew this was exactly what it was going to be. Even as he pressed the checkout button on his laptop to buy them for you, he could hear every argument you would use about how you couldn't accept them, but he did it anyways.

He raised his eyebrow at you. "Aren't they so pretty?!"

"They're beautiful, the exact pair I've been wanting for a long time." You nodded before trying to shove the box right back into his hands. "They're going to look great on your hard head."

Steve laughed as he pushed it back to you. "No, they're yours. If you open the box you'll see they're engraved with a 306 which means they're non refundable and custom made for you, leaving you no choice but to accept and enjoy them."

"You bitch." You deadpanned, not completely believing him until you ripped off the plastic cover and opened the box to see for yourself. And boom, there it was, an engraving just for you. "You bitch! Why? That's too much, twinkles, you didn't have to do that."

"Of course I didn't have to, but I really wanted to." Steve explained. "You've been existing with one airpod in since you-know-who ruined your headphones and I know how important music is to you. You deserve to hear music in both of your ears while also drowning out the compound nois-."

Steve was cut off by you practically leaping over the couch cushion and falling into his arms. A little oof sound escaped his lips as he wasn't prepared even in the slightest for the amount of force your body had against his, but his arms were quick to wrap around you regardless.

"Thank you so so much." You shoved your face into his neck, and your arms squeezed him tighter than ever before. "I love them and I love you."

"You're very welcome, and I love you too" Steve was more than happy to squeeze you tightly in return. "I'm so happy you're an avenger! It'll be fun getting to go on missions with you"

"I don't know if fun is the right word" You giggled while letting him go.

"You're right, there's no such thing as a fun mission, let me rephrase that." He agreed. "Missions will be so much more bearable if we can do them together."

"It's going to be so weird." You settled back into the corner of the couch and Steve sat right next to you. Tossing half the blanket over his lap wasn't even a second thought to you. "Me? Fighting alongside Iron Man and Captain America? Black widow? I think I'm experiencing imposter syndrome"

"You are more than capable" Steve reminded you.

Under the blanket, you threw your legs over his lap, and he took that as permission to move even closer to you. You two cuddled last night, so certainly there was no harm in snuggling on the couch, right?

Steve felt like a pathetic teenager once more when he realized how desperately he craved your touch, even if it was as innocent as tangled legs and touching arms on the couch. He searched for it everywhere, and soaked up every opportunity he could to just exist alongside you, and whenever he got it he felt so warm and fuzzy inside.

"Will you tell me all about being an Avenger?" You asked sweetly.

"Anything you want." Steve happily agreed as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and settled in.

The two of you talked for hours on end all about the complexities of your jobs, but somewhere along the way it strayed far from the original topic and morphed into trivial matters such as the differences between an iced latte and an iced coffee, even down to which bodega nearby had the best sandwiches. But you claimed neither of your opinions mattered to each other anyways because you were more of a bacon egg and cheese kind've girl while Steve would always choose something far less breakfast-y and more classic sandwich-y.

It was a great conversation nonetheless, you'd always take any opportunity you could get to pick Steve's brain apart. Eventually, maintenance came to swing by and finally fix his heater, you called your mom and dad, and it was quickly approaching the time you needed to get to the winery.

Steve got ready, dressed in perfectly fitted jeans, a nice button down, his favorite leather jacket before walking you to your apartment so you could get ready too. There was no question that walking through the hallways and main spaces of the compound felt thick with tension. Whenever you walked by, agents heads would turn and they'd watch you pass as if you had committed an unthinkable crime, or maybe like you were some sort of A-list celebrity setting out into a sea of journalists watching and noting your every move.

He was proud of how you handled it like nothing was happening, but he still couldn't help the feeling of an undeniable shiver down his spine when he thought about how different this would turn out for you had he not been walking by your side.

Steve also didn't miss your sigh of relief when your apartment door closed and locked when you guys made it inside. The silence felt domestic and comfortable as Steve plopped down on the couch while you ran off to touch up your hair and makeup from this morning and change into a more formal yet still kind've casual and warm outfit for the outdoor occasion.

He felt so happy and relaxed as he listened to your music playing from a room away, but all of his chill left his body when he heard the clicking of your heels against the hardwood flooring. Not soon enough to gain his composure, you came out of your room with a huff.

"Is this outfit appropriate for the occasion?" You asked him, feeling unhappy you didn't have more time to plan for this, and reluctant in your ability to pull something together.

Steve had to work hard to keep his mind from going blank as he looked at your outfit. A pretty black sweater dress with a turtleneck and a brown leather jacket that he swore went missing from his closet a few months ago over it, some sheer black tights, and heeled boots. You looked painfully pretty, effortlessly casual yet elegant and pulled together.

"Is this the part where I'm allowed to start telling you how beautiful I think you are?" Steve asked, unable to think of anything but that.

"Permission granted, at this point in my life I need all the confidence I can get." You nodded, feeling nervous about the upcoming event.

"You look so pretty" Steve gushed like a secret he's held in for too long. "You are so pretty."

"The outfit, Twinkles" You giggled, "what about the outfit?"

"The outfit is perfect, but are you going to be cold?" He asked.

"Of course I'm going to be cold, but that's a problem for me later." You nodded.

"And your feet are going to hurt."

"A sacrifice I'm willing to make"

"You're so brave." Steve placed a hand over his heart. "Cool jacket, where's it from?"

"It's vintage" You smiled, he squinted his eyes at you.

"I don't know if I'm more upset that you said that, or that it looks better on you. Either way, I'm wounded."

"Oh please, everything you wear looks good on you. Plus, we match!" You shook your head with a smile. "If it's not already obvious, I also think you're very handsome."

"No, you can't say that to me because my knees will go weak and I'm not going to be able to get off the couch." Steve shook his head, earning your laugh.

"For such a strong man you let me have so much power." You stuck your hands out for him to take. "Come on, I'll help you and your weak knees off the couch."

You did manage to peel him off the cushions and get him out of the door, and he almost successfully safely ushered you through the whole building and to the parking garage, but unfortunately, he couldn't control the words coming out of people's mouths.

Especially when those words came from pure jealous rage. He also couldn't help how they probably hurt more when they tore you from such a good mood.

He finally managed to pull some real laughter out of you for the first time in what felt like months. The sound of your belly laugh filled his soul with so much joy as he threatened to take his jacket back after you kept poking his shoulders and pretending like it wasn't you. He fell for it the first couple of times, but you were nonchalant... until your giggles erupted when he looked behind him.

Thats how you two ended up fighting off each others arms while walking through a corridor. You fought relentlessly to keep the jacket while Steve protected his shoulders from your passionate pokes.

Both of you were so distracted by each other you didn't even notice that you weren't the only two people in the corridor, so when Steve managed to tangle your fingers with his and hold your arm above your head to stop the vicious attack, it felt like two deers in headlights when one of Harvey's friends appeared in front of you.

Immediately Steve let go of your hand, your arm was pulled back down and crossed over your chest. Your smile fell even faster.

"Well well well, if it isn't proof that you fucked your way onto the Avengers" He barked out a condescending laugh.

Steve was taken aback. He knew they were all brave enough to do this to you, but this behavior in front of him was even more bold than he thought any of these agents were capable of.

He looked between you and the agent, fully waiting for your attack on him and fully supporting your decision to do so, but instead you had completely sunken in. You didn't have a response, no remark, no reaction. You just looked sad.

"Moved on from sucking off the brainwashed fuck-wad to Rogers real quick huh?" He questioned, taking one small step towards you.

Immediately Steve put his body between the two of you. "That's enough. Repo-"

"What did she do, Cap? Huh? Did you get the winter soldier treatment as well? Was it really that good she got to move up in ranks?" He questioned, trying to make himself bigger to see your smaller frame over Steve's broad shoulders. "If it's that good maybe I should try her out myself considering she makes it so easy."

"This is your last chance to walk away before your record is damaged." Steve warned, taking a deep breath to contain his hands instinctively balling up into a tight fist.

"Harvey told me she was nice and tight when he got her but he definitely loosened her up for you. Hope you appreciate that next time she wants a new job."

Your heart slowly cracked in your chest and a lump formed in your throat over the words being spoken about you. All you wanted was to be like your old self, so willing to take on this fight that he would've never had the chance to speak another word. But now, you couldn't even bother. It felt like you had no choice but to roll over and show your belly because you were still so beat down and tired.

But you're an avenger now, you should be able to deal with this. You should be able to do anything but this.

Suddenly the walls were spinning, and your broken heart was pounding as if it had never been more put together, the floor might as well have been made of broken glass.

Just as you were about to be swallowed whole by your racing thoughts, your attention was pulled right back.

"You can do much better than that half ass ran through nymph-"

Those were the final words that came though clearly before you watched Steve lose composure. The agent swiftly walked forward trying to get around Steve to get to you. In a moment of pure rage, and in honor of all those times you were sent to Steve's office, he provided a hard kick straight to the agents dick.

Hard enough for the agent to immediately scream in pain, fall to the floor and cry. Rolled in a pathetic ball, he clutched his precious jewels, you didn't know if his pain made you want to smile or cry.

He deserved it.

"It's funny, when we started this conversation you were a little less... swollen." Steve sassed, no ounce of remorse in his tone. "I hope you appreciate me every time the nurse has to replace your ice pack."

Steve was talking, but you doubted the agent heard a single word he said over the sound of the blood that rushed to his ears and his own whaling.

Confident that there was no chance of being able to stand back up without assistance, Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number before placing it to his hear and turning around to comfort you.

You looked to be in a state of shock as he pulled you into a one armed hug. Trying to take deep breaths became a lot easier when the air started to smell like Steve's cologne.

Someone on the other line must've picked up, Steve spoke briefly and got to the point. "I made a mess in the sector A corridor, could you clean it up for me? I'm uh, accompanying precious cargo, I'd rather you be late then leave her side. Thanks, Nat."

Just like that, the agent would be taken care of, his phone slipped back into his pocket, and his precious cargo could get the full of his attention again.

His other arm wrapped around you before you could get your arms up to gently hug him back. "Thank you" You whispered.

"I'm so sorry" Steve shook his head. "That was so awful, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, I just- need to breathe I think." You spoke, definitely having an anxiety attack.

"What can I do?" Steve asked, stepping back to look at your face.

You still looked shocked and a little dazed, but you seemed relatively okay.

"Nothing." You denied. "That was... more than anyone has ever done."

"Do you want to just take some time to let that settle or should we cancel?"

"No" You shook your head, firm on your answer. "It's okay, it's a long drive there. By the time we get there it'll all be okay. I'm okay."

Steve's face softened, his body language followed quickly after. "It's okay to not be okay. That was a lot." His hand was gently rubbing the top of your arm up and down.

"He was so mean to Bucky." You sighed, trying not to let tears pool into your waterline. "Do you think people have been treating Bucky like this too? Because of me? He doesn't deserve that"

"You don't deserve this either, Buggy." Steve reminded you, nearly falling apart over the way you always thought of everyone else's feelings before your own. "Nobody is mean to Bucky to his face, people are too scared to do that."

"What if he finds out what he said?" Your big eyes looked right into Steve's. They were soft and twinkling with empathy just for you, and that brought you more comfort then he would ever realize.

"If Bucky found out what he said, he would be in a lot worse of a state than he's in right now because he would be livid that anyone was saying that about you. I'm livid too, but you're my focus."

You nodded fully understanding Steve's words, while looking over to see the Agent laying on the floor still crying, still shouting. "I did what you would do, I think it makes a pretty bold statement that this behavior cannot be tolerated anymore. No exceptions, I have to put my foot down. You don't deserve to live like this anymore."

"Thank you, Stevie."

"Natasha is going to take care of the rest, okay? He's getting fired. He'll never come back here."

"I'll get worse now, I think more of them are going to try to get me, maybe even you now." You explained.

"Then they'll all get fired and removed from the property as well" Steve challenged. "We need agents who will make the world better, these ones are very obviously not qualified for the job.  And quite frankly, I'm tired of tip toeing around the issue to make them comfortable. All of them deserve to be just as uncomfortable, if not more uncomfortable than you are. I will personally make sure none of them lay a finger on you ever again."

"That's a lot of paperwork for you."

"I'll do it all, I don't care." He reassured you. "I should've done this sooner, I regret every single time I ever let these pricks pass by without proper reprimand."

"It's okay, Steve."

"No it's not." He disagreed. "Are you positive you still want to go?"

Despite the hidden sadness behind your that came back after working so hard to get it back, Steve saw your bravery right before his very twinkly eyes. "I'm positive. I think getting away from here is the best choice I can make."

Steve sympathetically grinned. "Luckily you have a lot of people who love you and want to celebrate you tonight. Hopefully some of that love helps to cancel out what just happened."

You nodded in agreement and grinned back at him as he offered you his arm to walk you the rest of the way, hopefully being closer to him would bring you a better sense of comfort.

Instead of taking it, you hooked your arm around his like intended, but slid your hand down to hold his just like you'd still be doing had it not been ruined for you.

He looked down at your interconnected fingers with a bitter sweet pinch in his brow. "What if someone sees?"

You shrugged. "No matter what I do or say, people are going to be mad. I might as well let them be mad, and let myself be happy."

"This makes you happy?" Steve questioned genuinely, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"You've always made me happy, I've just never been brave enough to let myself enjoy it." You admitted. "But now I'm too tired to even fight with myself anymore. I have to surrender or else I'll never get to enjoy what I have while I have it."

"I'm so proud of you" Steve said sincerely. "You're a lot braver than I am because this makes me feel like I'm going to throw up."

Then, your real giggle came back and the tears that once threatened you never fell. "Are you sure you even like me? It seems like nausea is the emotion I instill in you the most these days"

Your arms swung gently between the two of you as you continued your journey to Steve's car. "The throw up is exactly how I know I like you. Nobody else makes me feel like I don't have control over the contents of my stomach whenever they look at me."

"If anybody else said that to me, I think I would be offended."

"But I said it, so you know it's a good thing."

"Has anybody ever told you that you're a true romantic?" You questioned rhetorically.

Steve giggled. "Never in my life."

"Hmm, I wonder why."

Next Part: Star crossed lover

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

#steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america fluff #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu x reader #chris evans fluff #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #captain america angst #captain america series #captain america imagine #captain america fan fiction #captain america smut #bucky barnes #Sam Wilson #natasha romanoff #tony stark #marvel x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #the gemini #rogersideup #black widow

[wannabemurdock]

Hi,

I want to attempt kinktober without placing too hard expectations on myself so hopefully I’ll post everyday but if not, that’s okay!

I will be posting 31 p*rn links for 31 days each with a little prompt.

If you have any requests send them through.

find all my other work here

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Day 1: Matt Murdock + pussy worship

Day 2: Rick Grimes + handcuffs

Day 3: Bucky Barnes + soft sex

Day 4: Daryl Dixon + overstimulation

Day 5: Frank Castle + housewife kink

Day 6: Charlie Weasley + bathroom sex

Day 7: Loki Laufeyson (Odinson) + bondage

Day 8: Sirius Black + face riding

Day 9: Kate Bishop + tit worship

Day 10: Negan Smith + thigh riding

Day 11: George Weasley + caught masturbating

Day 12: Wanda Maximoff + bondage

Day 13: Daryl Dixon + face sitting

Day 14: Natasha Romanoff + phone sex

Day 15: Fred Weasley + begging

Day 16: Eddie Munson + exhibitionism

Day 17: Daryl Dixon + cockwarming

Day 18: Natasha Romanoff + bl00d kink

Day 19: Steve Rogers + rough sex

Day 20: Daryl Dixon + bathtub sex

Day 21: Daryl Dixon & Rick Grimes + threesome

Day 22: Charlie Weasley + throat fucking

Day 23: Matt Murdock + office sex

Day 24: Foggy Nelson + lingerie

Day 25: Bucky Barnes + knife kink

Day 26: Sirius Black + mirror hand job

Day 27: Maggie Rhee & Rosita Espinosa + threesome

Day 28: Peter Parker + fingering

Day 29: Natasha Romanoff + praise kink

Day 30: Foggy Nelson + cockwarming

Day 31: Charlie Weasley + edging

#Matt Murdock x reader smut #Frank castle x reader smut #Steve rogers x reader smut #Sam Wilson x reader smut #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader smut #Rick grimes x reader smut #Shane Walsh x reader smut #negan smith x reader smut #argyle x reader smut #Eddie Munson x reader smut #steve harrington x reader smut #Remus Lupin x reader smut #Sirius black x reader smut #Fred Weasley x reader smut #George Weasley x reader smut #bill weasley x reader smut #charlie weasley x reader smut #dean winchester x reader smut #sam winchester x reader smut #druig x reader smut #loki x reader smut #Thor odinson x reader smut #Tony stark x reader smut #foggy nelson x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #kate bishop x reader smut #pietro maximoff x reader smut #jim hopper x reader smut

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Y/N: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly?

Yelena: Not again!

Y/N: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions.

Sam: Just wait until you hear about whales.

Y/N: What now?

#source: unknown #yelena belova #yelena belova incorrect quotes #black widow #avengers x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson incorrect quotes #falcon #captain america #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

[sycamorelibrary754]

We're a Family

Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Some mentions of grief.

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning, as you gather the last of the essentials together for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since the birth of your child in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight. 

“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend, Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her to be than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.

“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.

It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. From the moment you both laid eyes on her your whole world changed. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for daily mission consultation or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.

You heard little feet padding down the hall, as your daughter runs into your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up on down on her head “I'm ready Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed. 

“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.  

“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu. 

“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.

After packing your luggage in the car, you make the short drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied, as Mila lets go of Natasha’s hand and runs ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.

As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen as the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick. 

“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room and Mila runs into her arms.  

“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!” 

“I love it malyshka, so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says, as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”

“Yeah, about that”, Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”

“Mission briefing? Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”

“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter.” motioning to the group in front of you.

Your heart warms at how protective your wife is being. This is the Black Widow. A woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children, to giving nothing but love to the both of you. 

Just then Tony and Bruce entered the living room arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind. 

“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha said. 

“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolls her eyes in response, as Tony and Bruce give you a hug before sitting down and Pepper picks up your daughter.

“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.

“Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.

“Okay, some quick do’s and dont’s for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her a bedtime story. Oh, and if she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”

“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.

“It’s going to be alright Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin full of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip. 

You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.” 

Just as you complete the sentence, Mila ran back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we’re going to watch it tonight before bedtime.” 

“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you are going to be a good girl for your aunts and uncles and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said. 

“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugs you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their special way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony having offered one for easy and convenient travel. 

*^~^*

By the time you arrived at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After some sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you got back to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed. Lovingly cuddled up under a blanket with Yelena. 

“See, she’s okay”, you said lovingly as Natasha smiles widely at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.

As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.

You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow. 

Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found herself finding any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home. 

You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, and that was what Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely the walls came down for both of you. 

When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew that she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtaking you all over again.

As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir. 

So much life had happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned, bought your own house, and five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Fading back into the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.

*^~^*

It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout. 

“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter. 

Before Mila can even respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint, with a raised eyebrow.

“No”, Clint grumbled.

“Then make your own breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back. 

After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is in his room working on a mission report when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned Captain America shield pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing. 

“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window. 

“Oh, hey Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughs out loud. 

Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done. 

That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda. 

“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”

“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily. 

Peter nodded, and for the next twenty minutes, they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag. 

“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.

“You like it?” Peter asked.

“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila declares. 

“Something like that” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair. 

Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for a half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was normally annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.

“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.

“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “

Tony stopped in his tracks as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the entire spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there. 

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carries them across the room to the top of the bookcase. 

Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. Putting on his best poker face, “Okay. I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark” Peter giving Tony a thumbs up. 

“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab. 

*^~^*

In the city of love, you and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River. It was magical. You had seen the Musée d’Orsay, the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower when your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.

“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?” 

“Paris for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily, as Natasha puts her arms around your waist and lovingly kisses your cheek. 

“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.

“With the team, actually if you’re going there anyway could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired. 

“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”

“Thank you, Carol”, you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute, before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket. 

“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically, as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.

“Detka! We said no gifts this year, this trip is gift enough.” Nat facetiously scolded.

“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly. 

Natasha opens the box to reveal a simple and delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. One that Clint had taken during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It had quickly become one of your favorite photos of your small, yet precious family. 

“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”

You move Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were in this moment. 

*^~^*

The Sunday morning sun is slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie coming from her phone when The God of Thunder made his entrance through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena, but ran toward him when she realized it’s only her Uncle Thor materializing in front of them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug. 

“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked. 

“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”

He reachesd down and lifts Mila up with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since the last time I saw you, Mila.” Thor declared

“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed. 

“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.

“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered. 

“It is indeed”, Thor said, sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thor!”, Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom. 

“You spoil her, you know”, Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen. 

“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.

Carol arrives shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie, as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.

“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of one of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.

“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece. 

“Fruits and veggies right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila runs over and jumps into Captain Marvel’s arms. 

“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled. 

“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you so much and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight.” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek. 

*^~^*

The sun was setting on your third day in Paris. You and Natasha spent the afternoon exploring the mysteries of the Louvre. You had always wanted to see the Mona Lisa in person, and Natasha was determined to make it happen. Even if it meant pushing through a crowd of tourists who got out of the way quickly when they realized the Black Widow was the one asking them to kindly move the fuck over.

You made the short walk back to your hotel and are enjoying a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged. 

Carol: Hey lovebirds, all good here. Mila is doing great and is so excited to see you when you get back. However, I have a feeling you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘

Natasha giggled, showing you the text. 

“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple. 

Following Wanda’s scrumptious dinner of Chicken Paprikash, your daughter was watching Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.

“Hey, kiddo do you want to come down to the lab with me and see the new Iron Man suit the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”

“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Sir, I believe Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila whilst she is in our care.”

“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new virtual mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab. 

*^~^*

A few hours later, Natasha landed the Quinjet and takes a deep breath as she reached across the console for your hand. You both stare out at the lights of the team living quarters in the distance. 

“This has been a wonderful anniversary. I love you so much,” you said. “I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family that she will always remember.” You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caresses your cheek. 

“You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just… never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.”

“I know, my love”, you said quietly. Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”

You walked into the compound to shouting and the sound of Fanny and Lucky barking. Natasha was about to reach for her spare Widow Bites when you both heard your daughter laughing.

The two of you entered the common room to the sight of your daughter running through the compound. She was dressed in her pajamas and one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets; a can of whipped cream in her little hands. Yelena and the rest of the team are hot on her heels; puffs of whipped cream flew behind her. 

Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.

Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha. 

“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms. 

“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wraps Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same. 

“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes. 

“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily. 

Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure. 

“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.

“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom. 

“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one. 

She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team. 

A few minutes later, Mila reappeared with her unicorn backpack and Yelena in tow carrying a couple more bags than what you dropped her off with. You shake your head, knowing full well that the team spoiled her with gifts. Natasha squatted down to Mila’s level and puts her hand lovingly on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila walked around the room and hugged everyone. It warms Natasha’s heart to see her family embrace your daughter with so much love and affection. 

Mila fell asleep five minutes after you put her in her car seat. When you arrived home, Natasha carried her to her bed. She carefully set Mila down and pulled up the covers. You both place a gentle kiss on her forehead and quietly tiptoe out of her room. You make your way to your bedroom, deciding to leave the unpacking for the morning, both too jet lagged. Natasha sat up in bed reading with her glasses sliding adorably down her nose when you turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed beside her. 

“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kiss her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Returning the kiss. 

As Natasha starts to fall asleep, she can’t help but recall the journey that brought her here. She used to have nothing. Indoctrinated into Red Room with no free-will. A ledger soaked with blood that she wanted more than anything to wipe clean. Then came the shot Clint didn’t take, the chance that Fury did, the found family that ultimately led her to you, and the miracle that is your daughter. Her family would always be there for her, and you and Mila were happy, healthy, and safe. She was better because of it. At last, Natasha Romanoff was at peace.

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #yelena boleva #tony stark #thor #bruce banner #carol denvers #clint barton #steve rogers #pepper potts #morgan stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #kate bishop #peter parker #iron man #captain america #black widow #scarlet witch #vision #hulk #captain marvel #hawkeye #god of thunder #avengers compound #paris france #mcu #the avengers #avengers x fem!reader #avengers child

[wmarximoff]

𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝐰. 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

summary: memories take over you when you start to realize about how much you missed the family dynamics with Wanda and the twins, and how much they missed you being around too.

warnings: smut, fingering (Wanda reciving), mentions of strap-on sex, a bit of dirty talking, canon typical violence, kinda angst but not really, fluffines and cuteness in general.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 11k

main masterlist| series masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

“Y/n!” a clenched jaw, a bitten lip, “Oh- oh God!”

You know you should have dropped the twins off at their other mother’s house and left about eight hours ago. That’s what you do when you’re a divorced parent, at least. But then Wanda so courteously invited you to stay for dinner, and you, so weak to her spell, just couldn’t deny her request, because you always fancied her food and she looked at you like she did when she was seventeen and asked you so earnestly to do something for her.

If then you were never able to deny her anything, much less now you couldn’t either. Just like you couldn’t deny her when she curled her fingers into the belt of your jeans and pulled you into an auspiciously soft kiss after you helped her wash and dry the dinner dishes.

Like when it happened also at the beginning of that same week, and at the end of the other week before that (and she was absolutely feral when you came inside her with your strap again), and on some weekend in between when you went down on her in the pantry room while the boys were enraptured by one of their electronic games in the living room.

You’re still not quite sure what a Minecraft is, but you’re kind of grateful that it exists.

Your body would never be able to deny her, your addiction trickling from the tip of your tongue, and you just know it wouldn’t be worth even trying to do otherwise. And if you weren’t going to deny her, it wouldn’t be Wanda who would deny you either.

So, in an act of pure passion (immoderate, nasty, wanton and, at first, disconcerting passion), her snowy fingers imbibed each other between the strands of hair on your head; but nevertheless, the sharpened ridges of her fingernails were stuck to the top of your scalp between her legs, crescent-shaped marks on the skin from your head, all sharpened by Wanda’s hands pressing against your hair.

Panting and lustful, she’s lying on the blandness of her bed, on the pale sheets smeared with saliva, sweat, tears (of pleasure this time), and cum. Her head bowed back and her lips half-opened, as if she were about to whisper through this crack of pleasure a lewd secret. A mutual ardor, a need for pleasure that makes you find your morning breakfast between your ex-wife’s thighs. And between her dizzying, impatient legs, then, a little below Wanda’s level, you revel in her constricted moans.

The tip of your nose touches her in the thin dark fuzz blooming beneath her mound of Venus, and Wanda spills down the length of your tongue, Wanda spreads to your teeth, and Wanda drips from between the lustrous skin of your chin glistening with her cunt’s hot fluids.

Her eyebrows are shriveled up by her flushed face, but on her features a utopian, impudent expression is born, followed by exhausted and costly movements performed with her head of brown hair. Her mouth twitches, throbbing, while you suck her savagely by her core, voracious on your lips, but just as passionate about the touches given by her body. Your flashing pair of hands grip the inner face of her pale thighs to keep them away from each other, and you, huddled there as if there you always belonged, have your eyes closed as you trace Wanda’s clit with the tip of your pearly tongue.

Your tongue that travels between her folds and then opens through her pink slit, receiving, in response, a loud growl, Wanda’s stomach muscles tightening as she does – she just feels like she’s trapped in a parallel reality with your tongue tucked inside her.

“Y/n, don’t stop-!” her bare knees squeeze your head in an adjacent grip toward her nib, demanding, clamoring for more, more of you, more of your hot tongue inside her.

She unfolds, your ex-wife, like a work of art brushed by your mouth.

“Prodolzhay, pozhaluysta, prodolzhay, moya lyubovʹ–” is her newest mantra, deferred in the Sokovian dialect that, after so long, is already kind of familiar to you.

You just know she begs you not to stop. So you don’t stop. And she moans loudly in immediate response to this choice of action. Your right fingers migrate from Wanda’s thigh to toss a handful of your hair that pierces your vision, before thus returning to the center of your beloved woman like a traveler returning home, hungry for her liquid as a life necessity – as if this essence is your vice, and no other in the world could compare.

When a pair of your fingers penetrate her wet hole, and you lick her needy cunt just to lift up and then bite a beam of sweaty skin from her collarbones, something vile writhes inside Wanda.

Pale hands, hungry for something to hold on to, run the length of your back into the band shirt you’re wearing—your right elbow working, pumping impassively toward your ex-wife’s dripping center. The moan she lets out is loud inside your eardrum.

“I know it’s hard for you,” your breath is warm against her jawbone, “To keep quiet while I fuck you with my fingers, but still, Wanda. Quiet. I bet you don’t want the boys to know that their mother has such a needy pussy.”

Your voice, your delicious, husky voice, right next to Wanda’s ear seems capable of driving her insane – of making her bewitched by her own spell and losing her sanity. Then you place a kiss under her ear. A bite. Her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed, a sliver of vivid crimson escaping between her pressed lashes.

“Shit, you really wanna moan, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes! Please dorogaya—”

Your fingers curls inside her tight walls, forcing a pained response from Wanda that came into the world in the form of a needy groan. She nods fervently in consent, squeezing the muscles in your back.

“You’re close?”

Again she nods her head – the greedy gaze cast at you from behind lashes adorned in the scarlet glow of her irises is nothing more than pleading.

“Hah,” you chuckles darkly, “So come then, pretty girl. Give me a show.”

A cavernous yelp escapes Wanda’s throat as her brows twitch and her eyes compress into two lines across her panting face, a pleasant simulation of pain, a tissue ball being woven beneath her navel, beginning to press against her bladder.

You, who know her as well as she does, tries to follow the formulation of her orgasm with the movements of your nimble fingers inside her pussy; backing it up, you press your lips around her neck as you slide down its length, only to return to the tip of her sharp jaw and then intensify the avid sucking, until you take your ex-wife to the height of her own pleasure, plunged into an infamous mist of libido and red color.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit- ah! Y/n!”

Wanda leans forward, eyes narrowed and mouth tight, so that both of her boiling hands dig into your shoulder blades, your body holding her in place on the bed as she spills between your digits, the velvety walls squeezing your fingers, the fiery cum running all the way down to your knuckles.

At her peak, Wanda collapses back to the length of the mattress, a warm dark lock, soaked in sweat, plastered to her forehead. Around the edges of the bed, a haze of scarlet wind slithers through the sheets. Her chest rises heavy and drops back into her rib cage. There are only gasps of hot air to be heard in front of the four walls of Wanda’s room.

“Hey,” you whisper in an affable tone adopted just after your nerves cool, bringing your face close to a strip of sweaty skin above her dark brow, “Are you okay? That… that was a strong one.”

“Yeah… fuck, yeah,” it’s her breathy answer, “I’m fine, I’m just… I think I needed that.”

A beam of golden luminescence penetrates the room of your accommodation through the cracks in the heavy curtain, interspersed rays of sun that franchise the brief layer of spectral red fog inserted in its interior, projected in three specific points through the serene countenance pierced by the ecstatic extension of the Wanda’s pale face, still in her post-orgasm hangover.

With a certain innocence deposited by her closed heavy eyelashes, spattered by drowsy droplets of pleasure, your ex-wife pulls your body towards her, laying her forehead on the extension of your right collarbone.

For a second she’s silent, and you know it’s so she can hear the contraction of your heartbeat inside your chest; after all, she used to do the same when you were still young lovers and she never quite explained why exactly she did it, but you always knew it was to let her know you were there, alive and well in her caress.

“You’re here…” she whispers in a tiny, soft voice against the fabric of your shirt, “You’re real…”

“Yeah,” you whispers in her hair, “I’m here now. I’m here.”

Wanda’s body relaxes against yours after a while. A bird is humming outside.

Her pendulous breathing is dictated by the conductor’s rhythm of a post-orgasm ecstasy – chest rises, chest falls, stops; chest goes up, chest goes down, stops – but her head turns intermediately to the side, in a half-sleeping movement, her chin down, a lock of brown peaks crossing her serene face.

“Wanda…?”

But she snores in lulls against your chest.

The action made you have to blink once, as your gaze went from her well-shaped eyebrows to the narrow bridge of her nose and the neat cheekbones of her strong bone structure, gazing towards the beautiful outcome that is her peach lips parted, flaring through her front teeth – exposed, in that small pulpy crevice, like the inside of a coveted fruit – a homogeneous strip of hot air.

Something reverberates inside you, like a spark that rekindles a fire that has long since waned and died. Wanda is asleep and warm against your chest after a long night of love and pleasure, just two lovers tasting each other’s bodies, getting familiar with the already known taste.

And then you smell wild strawberries in her hair. And a threat of crying curls into a ball inside your throat.

But it is a euphoric cry, a happy cry. Like the cry of someone who reaches their goal and, after so much effort, is finally praised with the cheers of victory. As if your icy heart was pumping red hot blood back into your veins. Like her arms make you human again.

Maybe, you think, maybe things will be like this again sometime. Maybe it doesn’t need to be more than that. And you smile tenderly, as you kiss the top of her dark-haired head and Wanda hums something contentedly in her sleep, moving even closer to you in the middle of the double bed. This time, the voice in your head tells you to stay. And so, you stay with her.

The metal faucet clogged some time later, when you turned it clockwise a couple of times, stopping the pouring water from the shower held palms above your head.

Leaving the shower and drying off, you slowly brush your teeth before guiding your right fingers towards the aluminum doorknob, a breath of steam coming with you as you walk serenely into Wanda’s room to the clean, folded clothes placed on the edge of her bed – a towel clumsy to your strands of hair, dulled by the particles of water that soak them, does the job of extracting the excess water that fogs up the strands stuck to your slender face.

There’s a picture frame on the left side of the bed, and you’ve noticed it every time you’ve been there, in your ex-wife’s bedroom, but the picture was still comforting to look at in a way – just Wanda with her right arm wrapped around the small shoulders of Billy, who wears a red blouse, while her left did the same with Tommy dressed in greenish-blue, guarding them like a mother in a nest, the small family of three, the mother and two children, exhaling a trio of sunny smiles towards the camera.

Maybe you could update that photograph at some point, you dare to allow yourself to dream big about it. Therapy is going well, and you are closer to your family than ever before. You feel a little hasty in thinking about changing the picture, it’s true, but well, it doesn’t hurt to dream. Just one step at a time.

You then dress in a plain knit shirt and cozy sweatpants as you pull the towel from around your neck, over your shoulders (Wanda’s clothes are soft and smell like her and you feel snug in your heart with it invading your senses), and you feel at peace as you make your way to the kitchen on the lower floor of the house, where your nose is met by the alluring aroma of freshly prepared food that makes your stomach growl like an animal inside your abdomen.

The vision employed before your eyes, however, stagnates your quiet strides in a sigh constricted into your throat; as Wanda’s flashy figure sees herself with her back turned to you, somewhat bent over, poking her nose into the fridge. You let yourself gasp, lifting and lowering with a heavy chest.

Her long brown hair flows down from her porcelain shoulders to the middle of her back like a wave of black coffee, although what exudes from those warm locks is an appetizing scent of soft strawberry, with pungent hues, to which you had become addicted and delighted to fit your nose and inhale this exquisite and eclectic aroma just hours before.

Even within the constrictions of her fine cotton shirt, her shoulder blades are partially protruded, luscious to the touch of your soft digits – you gazed at her as if Wanda were a figurine in an exhibition, unveiled before your passionate gaze, that of her understands so much of the cunning nature.

The velvety curve along the spine, the swelling of the firm buttocks covered by the pajama shorts, the long valley of the alabaster thighs – and then, a glistening piece of skin that makes itself present between the hem of the blouse and the waistband of the shorts, making explicit, as timidly as a cornered animal, a red band of lacy panties.

The blood in your veins quickens like an electric current and euphoria, for you remember having, just a few hours before, torn open, with your bare hands, an intimate piece of Wanda’s very similar to that one, opening your way to the wet aim through your ex-wife’s legs.

“You do realize that I can hear your thoughts, right?”

Wanda says in a rather jocular tone as she turns to you as soon as she closes the fridge door, holding the neck of a pale milk bottle in her left hand.

“Yeah, I think I’ve been reminded of that at one time or another, yes,” you say, a little teasingly.

You smile in realization when you realize that the shirt she is wearing is the very shirt you were wearing just the night before.

“But what do they say, huh, Miss Maximoff?”

You reciprocate in the same light, half-smiling voice as you cross the kitchen to approach her and give her hips a gentle squeeze, inferring, on Wanda’s part, a silly giggle that makes her nose scrunch like a little adorable puppy.

“They say you’ll be a sweetheart and take the boys for a ride this afternoon so mama can stay at home and rest from her long night, Miss Y/l/n.”

You lick your tongue iridescent through the pulps of your thirsty lips, tensing the folds of your fingers on Wanda’s exposed skin as she crosses her wrists behind the back of your damp neck, bestowing, there, a caress with her fingertips.

“But what’s mommy going to get if she does that, huh?”

“Well,” she pretends to think, a small smile lifted to her lips so dangerously close to yours, “That’s something mommy will have to figure out later.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” and Wanda makes her approach to place a kiss on your mouth, “Yes, it is.”

You don’t even end up feeling the brief ghost of hot lips against yours, a delicious tingle coursing through the commission of your desire-flavored mouth, because when does, quick footsteps on the nearby stairs stagnate you, and, with scorching cheeks and ears, flushed like the fruit of a ripe peach, you and Wanda pull away from your touch abruptly, lips parted as if clamoring for more, your pupils expanded as are hers (two buds linked by a green filament), the two of you panting with laborious chests.

You didn’t share a kiss for little more than centimeters and seconds, almost like two mischievous teenagers caught by adults in the middle of an intimate act – even if who surprised you, making you and Wanda look at each other laughing and blushing, so young at heart, has been your ten-year-old children.

“We’re hungry, ma!” Tommy cries out as he pulls up a chair on the right side of the table and sits down with his hands splayed across the wooden surface, “We want pancakes!”

“No, we want bacon and eggs!” Billy contradicts his brother by sitting in the chair opposite the one Tommy occupies.

“What do you guys think about starting to ask for things only after you say good morning to mom and me like the two polite little boys I raised you to be, huh?”

Wanda looks over her shoulder and, somewhat contradictingly, the two boys grunt a “good morning” in unison. You, on the other hand, set a couple of thick glass cups on the table, handing them out to each of the boys, watching carefully with a slight smile on your lips as a trifling rift unfolds between the two twin brothers.

“But we want pancakes!”

“No, we want bacon and eggs!”

“Pancakes!”

“Bacon and eggs!”

“How about some toast, huh?”

The two boys turn their gazes towards you, who then sets four plates on the table.

Tommy frowns, but it’s Billy who gives you a look that’s a little too diligent for what his age restrictions should allow (he has an adult look that you really think is something mystical), tilting his chin to the left as he glances from you to Wanda standing on the edge of the stove, and then to your clothes and to what she wears herself.

“Mama, why are you wearing mommy’s shirt?”

You press your lips together in a hesitant line.

“Well baby, you see, I… I…”

In your peripheral vision, you see Wanda’s figure stiffen at the little boy’s words, increasing the grip of her fingers held by the skillet handle.

“Wait, did you sleep here, mom?” is Tommy’s question towards you when, in a non-syllabic connection worthy of a pair of twins, the two boys exchange a meaningful look.

“I- I, uh… you know, bud, it got a bit late yesterday after you guys went to bed and, well, uh, I, I stayed for a while to help mama do the dishes and… and…”

Wanda, in turn, takes a plate with a stack of pancakes towards the table, placing it right in its center.

Covertly, however, she gives an indicative squeeze with her left hand before the length of your right forearm, before she then departs towards the table, where she places a languid, warm, courteous kiss on the top of the head of each of the kids that you have – Tommy sort of complains about being too old to be pampered (but doesn’t really do anything to stop it), while Billy willingly accepts his mother’s cuddles.

“Pancakes it is,” Wanda sits down in her usual chair, unceremoniously, right after such affectionate actions towards her children.

Tommy seems content with the lack of direct response when he slyly is the first to capture two golden pancakes for his plate – closely followed by Wanda, who has grabbed two more, just as you do yourself. Billy, on the other hand, looks a little hesitant as he looks at you and Wanda; but when Tommy calls him to talk about something related to some school activity, the boy takes his pancakes and engages in a lively conversation with his brother.

“Blueberry pancakes…?”

You aim at the luscious dough served on your plate, and your stomach, in response, reverberates in a hungry grunt. But you know Wanda has always been more of a pancake-and-strawberry kind of type.

“Yeah, I already told them that it tastes better with strawberries, but it’s no use… it’s just your bad influence on your children, I think,” says your ex-wife, taking a generous forkful towards her mouth.

You, in turn, smile, because you know you are among family, in the place where you should always be. You look at Billy and Tommy talking with their mouths full, and at Wanda when she asks them to “please chew with their mouths closed” in a very motherly tone of voice.

And as you chew (with your mouth properly closed, of course), you think that your pancakes have never tasted this good before.

ᗢ

It had started out as a triviality, something frugal that can be recklessly sneered at, like summer rains or autumn winds—something that by conjecture will be postponed, ignored and forgotten when a somewhat more significant or inescapable situation comes under the spotlight and momentarily divert your attention to another subject.

One night, perhaps counting two or three months after reciting your well-rehearsed vows in front of Wanda and exchanging a pair of golden rings between the two of you, transmuting your status from girlfriend to becoming then a wife, when both of you were lying on the bed, well covered to deal with the stinging European cold, Wanda had complained that her breasts were definitely more sensitive to the touch than usual.

“I swear,” she said, both to you and her reflection in the mirror, “They’re swollen."

All right, you thought to yourself in your head, sometimes this annoying soreness can happen when you have breasts, nothing saving the ordinary. It was a moderately common event, in fact. Nothing that you hadn’t already seen yourself as a victim of physiological pain at least once a month, of course.

Nothing that couldn’t pass after a proper night’s sleep. Sleep heals people, as you mother used to say to you as a young infant. But a night easily takes over a day, as do seasonal changes in the weather. As cold and heat come and go.

And one day turned into a week rather easily – Wanda tossing uncomfortably on the bed sheets before falling asleep, your attempts to engage in a somewhat needy sensual act dying off as the pangs of pain surfaced when you intended to stir up some stimulation through your wife’s sore nipples.

Constant grunts of pain, incessant complaints on her part—the crimson suit too tight for her to put on and keep herself comfortable during the long hours of increasingly exhausting missions across the globe. But living on the hustle as you were, never establishing any lasting bond anywhere but the caressing of each other’s arms, it didn’t seem conducive for both you and your wife to see such relevance in the brushstrokes of gradual pain that adorned Wanda’s days and nights.

Perhaps, who knows, if you two had made a (somewhat evident) connection between Wanda’s bodily changes and the pestering morning sickness that seemed uninterrupted, as intense as the speed at which they came to harass her in waves of abnormal nausea, the final news would not have taken you so much by surprise – the outcome should be unavoidable to understand, it is true.

The consequence of a compilation of specific acts that would clearly only be possible to explain with a single answer which, in this case, was in fact quite strange to understand as being the reality of what was materializing inside Wanda’s body – an amalgamation resulting from your genetics and her effervescent magical energy.

Who knows what it would be like if you had picked up the obvious signs in first hand? But it’s not like that possibility was even considered by you and much less by Wanda, at that time.

Not without the knowledge of having experienced it for the first time, of course. The first time is what opens the whole thing up, what prepares you for more of the same stuff.

When you saw yourself as old enough to understand, later on, looking back on that tempestuous time (but certainly not as turbulent as the times to come subsequent to these) you realized that still as young then as you were, so raw to the world and to life, so impervious to the limitations of reality around you, there was no way of knowing that the outcome of your love was no longer just a marriage union – not only a few papers signed and an exchange of fervent kisses and wedding rings, no.

The love between you two had grown, expanded and branched out like the blossoming flowers of springtime – and the fruit of that union would undoubtedly not be what you would call normal by any means. After all, you were indeed such an unusual couple.

But then Wanda passed out on a mission in Spain, after exceeding her own limits by holding back a battalion of at least eighty men using only the will of her mind waves. And on another mission in Argentina, about a few days after the last one. And on yet another mission in Kyoto, the week after that one. And her fragile stomach could no longer be imperiled to quinjet travels without expelling from her salivating mouth all the contents that filled it, even if what filled it was the purest nothing.

You held her long red hair as she regurgitated all the breakfast you’d just had into a repulsing paste inside a plastic bag, her thick tears trickling down the material of your black and white suit as you did.

And then you realized that something was quite wrong with the integrity of your wife’s physical health – but perhaps the absence of menstruation in the last few months should have been a suggestive flag for the main fact that, until then, had not yet been your consideration or even hers.

You find out, however, after a long-awaited team meeting on the outskirts of Consthum, location of one of Luxembourg’s former communes (just around Western Europe), when Natasha promptly enforced so much on taking a very sick Wanda to see a private doctor in the region, the physician who was an old remote contact of her and Clint – Vision was far across the ocean and could not take care of Wanda’s health at that time.

It was cold around the commune in season – each day a little bitterer than its predecessor had been before.

The winter chills took possession of the area in such a way that the leaves of the trees began to assume endogenous shades of white and silver, and the sky, in turn, became more gray and opaque, dense, instigating mornings encompassing through clouds as dull and thick as the down of a wild raccoon.

It had snowed during that dawn, and a dense eborean cover of flakes of ice crystals had clogged the region, whereupon the village was still asleep and welcomed to the comforts of its proper nesting beds so early in that morning.

At the inn where you and your other colleagues were currently residing (a magnanimous and long-lived house of Anglican architecture that vaguely resembled the structure of one of the last HYDRA hideouts that you had conquered, built right next to the small town, having as a neighbor more snow-brushed nature than other family homes), you were kind of stunned by the candid chill that had engulfed you during that time of year.

Wanda had been out with Natasha for quite some time now, a good handful of minutes that would easily make up the whole of an hour or two, and something tight was bothering you inside your constricted chest. After all, maybe your wife was sick. Maybe she was quite sick and slowly getting worse, and it didn’t please you at all to have such hurtful thoughts gnawing at your anxious mind.

The balcony, with its dark modular wood floor, towered over the structure of the cottage, rising from the second floor, about three or four meters from the ground and measuring two meters by four, with a comprehensive view of the expanses of the green ocean of esoteric trees to the ends that comprised the horizon line, covered by a long line of white snow, where sky and leaves metamorphosed into a single inscrutable and powerful figure.

You were able to see well through such enormities, seated on a woven fiber bank as you were. The dawn was as phlegmatic as it could be, and when you gazed at it you vividly reminisced of watching the world through the huge thick glass windows of your room back at the compound, in a long-lost undemanding time that already seemed so far away in your deep-rooted memories.

“You should come in for a while, kid,” the complacent voice had come from behind you, from the French doors open to the sky.

You turned your chin over your shoulder, and Steve was the one who was promptly carrying two cups of steaming black coffee with him. The full, dense beard that closed off his herculean square face was still a novelty that was slowly growing on you.

“It’s cold out here, and I think you’ll know when they arrive even if you don’t stay here like a guard dog all morning.”

“I can’t get sick. I’m fine, man.”

The stout man yielded to you that pale china mug which he held in his right hand, a beam of smoke dispersing into the morning air in a puff of murky steam – you gratified him with a placid, toothless lips-only smile, guarding the body of the recipient between a wall made up of your fingers of both your stiff hands, but still making no mention of getting up and going to the fireplace inside to take shelter from the cold.

The captain then, in his turn, sat down near your left elbow, at the opposite end of the bench, and of his own drink he usurped a copious draft.

You sighed in a concerned way, dismaying the muscles of your shoulders, and replicating the simple act carried out by the leader of your team, of your full-bodied drink you also sipped a leisurely sip, savoring the wholesome, even earthy, bitterness that settled into the facet of your tongue, between your teeth, to your taste buds.

Your sluggish eyes, at last, gazed over the obsequious figure of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. And in such a way, you shook your head in an act of overwhelmed displeasure.

“I should have gone with her,” is what you said to him after a while, blinking once at the horizon as you did, “I’m her wife, I’m the one who should be there with her.”

“Y/n,” Steve sighed for half a second, “You know we can’t get public attention to ourselves. And people know who you are, who both of you are, what you girls’ relationship is. Honestly, I think the two of you together in public get more attention than if Nat is the one with Wanda. It’s the safer option, you know. And she really needs to see a doctor.”

Even from behind the cup of hot coffee, the war veteran ended up peering with his sapphire eyes towards you. And then, a complacent tone of voice took over Steve’s speech.

“But I know you’re worried, Y/n. It makes sense, after all, she is your wife. I know what it’s like… to worry about the woman you love, but not know exactly what to do about it. But Wanda can take care of herself pretty well, and she’s also with Nat, so I’m sure nothing bad will happen to them while they’re gone. She will be safe."

“Yeah,” you groan, “But that’s not what worries me, Steve. I know Wanda can fend for herself. That’s not… that’s not what worries me at all.”

Steve solemnly nodded his head in understanding, gazing at your battered profile—the nose sparsely upturned into your septum and the obstinate chin, the jaw set in concern into a solid bone structure.

With you being bursting with tension beneath the thick wool of the sweater you wore, your gaze was moderately dubious, laced with tinges of fatigue and worry. Of course concern was consuming you; your wife was in bad health, so you weren’t sleeping well.

“Thanks, though,” you say, after a while, “For the coffee I mean.”

You knew the bearded man was urged to do something, anything, to soothe your disconsolate soul over the state of your ill wife. So you decided to thank him for the coffee, the safest choice to go, and he smiled behind his thick beard of dark blond hair like beer color.

“You’re welcome, kid.”

Both of you toke sips of the dark coffee in a purely silent harmony. But the sound of a car engine did not take long to cross the mid-dawn chill, reverberating in the trees and the snow.

And you scrambled to your feet, without circumlocution, your heart reverberating wildly in your chest, and it wasn’t long before you made your way to the front porch, giving Steve no satisfaction when you just got up and eagerly set sail downstairs, hurrying inside the winter cottage as you did.

Quickly descending the steps of the wooden staircase, one feet after the other, the silence on your part was the return to the question asked by Sam when you passed by him and he asked you if they had already arrived.

“Okay, someone’s in a hurry…”

But there was no room for details; you just had to see her. To touch her, to feel her. Wanda was the only thing going through your brain, like a red neon sign flashing her name again and again through your neurons. You needed to see her and hold her between your affectionate embrace as much as if it were a biological necessity, as much as a hungry person needs food to nourish themself, or a thirsty person needs water to survive one more day.

But the front door swung open in a brutal hollow slam before you even reached it, even if sprinting across the pale wood floor in quick strides as agonized as you were.

And startlingly, Natasha was the one who entered the cabin’s stone walls firsthand, wearing a heavy faux leather jacket over layers of thick clothing—you even made an effort to aim behind Black Widow’s slender shoulders, but no sign of your wife coming after your friend could be singled out.

The woman with the shortcut, artificially platinum hair burst out impetuously, looking as if she had been swamped in a lapse of smoldering anger—she was fierce as a soldier, anger spurred by the moss green of her irate irises. And you just blinked in confusion towards your teammate’s angry grimace, slowing your stride until you came to a complete stop a bit away from her.

“Nat?” you called her name, in a voice watered with concern, “Nat, what’s wrong? Where- where’s Wanda? Did something happen? Is she okay?“

Natasha’s gaze flickered in your direction, dealing with a non-syllabic response to your barrage of questions all directed at her. And it was an unclear blend what was eclipsing her sharp face; anger transmuted into pity, indignation and unhappiness passed through each other without ever remaining in a managed expression. Natasha opened and closed her full-lipped mouth, fidgeting inside her jacket, trying and failing to say something to you, but finally seemed to decide with herself that she really wouldn’t.

And then she surged forward, trotting towards you like an angry buffalo – but just when you thought she was going to run into you, the former assassin just walked right past you, not sustaining any eye contact for much longer than necessary.

“She’s the one who has to tell you, Y/n. Not me.”

"Nat? Nat, what…?” but the name hung in the air, since the other woman was already gone for you to reach her.

You didn’t quite know what she meant (or even what happened indeed), but you left it to worry later; for you headed out of the cottage in readiness, being embraced by the cool breeze brushing your warm skin. That’s when you found her, Wanda.

Your wife was a restless figure perched on the polished wooden bench against the wall beside the front door; between Wanda’s long, delicate fingers adorned in scintillating rings in various shapes and forms, a sealed white paper envelope was well awarded like a millenary secret. Her state of mind was dismal and deplorable, like a corpse exposed at a wake, and you didn’t take much long to notice this fact; for her skin was faded and dying, pale, with tapered cheeks and high cheekbones in a foreboding look, as if Wanda’s face were that of a statue carved from bleached bone.

Her lips were as whitish and thin as the snow outside the house, unhealthy and sickly-looking, and the green of her eyes and even the simulated copper of her long hair were dull, faded like an unfinished sketch.

Wanda, hunched on that icy bench, was like a shadow of herself, an anemic terminally ill. The look you gave her certainly made her feel like one, at least.

“Wanda?” you called out to her, in a thread of a pitying voice, “Wanda, baby?”

Your wife, looking even a little engrossed in her own head, barely gave any indication that she would look at you at all. And then it was that you crouched on your knees, standing before her devastated eye level, intimately touching with your left hand to the back of her calf.

“Wanda, please talk to me, honey. What is it? What’s wrong?” you tried, but to no avail.

Her green gaze, so stricken and restless in its irises dimmed in insecurity, attached itself to yours as you stood there, placed before her, and winked inherently towards you, using no words as you disposed in a better posture on your knees, bringing your face even closer to hers.

You sensed in Wanda the dread in which the enchantress was unable to manifest with even a single set of words—as when she was a pubescent young girl all over again, so vulnerable of mind, despite all the power constricted within her core.

“Y/n…” she muttered your name in a weakened tone.

“I’m here, baby,” you assured her, giving her leg an intimate squeeze, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Wanda, however, just dropped her eyes uncertainly, aiming at her fingers placed on the envelope for a few silent seconds before finally bringing her right hand to a beam of skin on her forehead, running her palm down the length of her beautiful face until she handled it as a support at the disposal of her quivering chin – with wizened eyebrows, a wrinkled piece of skin in the gap between them.

She breathed a hard sigh through both her nostrils and turned her gaze to you, who so solemnly found yourself waiting expectantly for a clarification from your wife. And then, a lame sniff reached your hearing.

Wanda pranced into a harrowing sob that burst out of her throat in a rip, pressing the palm of her right hand against the pulp of her nacarine lips. She squeezed her eyes into two pained lines, shaking her head, the streaks of copious red hair rustling against the contours of her miserable, pitying face. It was like having a boulder entangled in gall at the bottom of her larynx.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” a single strand of crystal teardrops poured from her left eye to her retracted chin, “I swear I don’t know how it happened- I, I promise I didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t know how it happened, I don’t know, I—”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, please don’t cry, I’m here.”

You stood up in readiness. And then, without even saying a single word, you just wrapped your arms around Wanda’s shoulders, clasping her to your chest as if she were, your wife, just a young and simple girl desolate in the face of a broken heart, crying over her pain and making her tears her unsyllabic escape. Just like you did so many times before.

You deposited her, at the crown of the copper-colored head smelling like a sweet strawberry simulation, a warm and tender affectionate kiss.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here now.”

And Wanda hugged your waist in return, and so two lovers stagnated for so much longer than it seemed to pass, locked in each other’s arms like what you did when she missed her parents. Like what you did when she missed Pietro so much it felt like she was going to burst into embers.

You caressed her with the digits of your fingers down her back over the fabric of her thick coat, your cheek rested devotedly against her smooth hair, her sobs muffled against the top of your abdomen. And then, after a vague silence attained for her to recover her nerves, the news that completely disarmed you flowed along with her tears and her cries.

“I’m pregnant, Y/n.”

Three words. It took only three single words in a sentence for something to break down inside you. Something at your core collapsed, like the most devastating avalanches of snow and ice. You broke the hug to look down at her. And then, you blinked just once in the most pure form of sober skepticism towards Wanda.

“What…?”

Silence ensued – Wanda’s green eyes gleaming so clearly with expectant tears in your direction.

“I’m pregnant, around the tenth week or so,” the palm of her hand gently stroked the region of her womb through the thick wool blouse, “We… we’re going to have a baby, Y/n. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know how it hapenned. I’m sorry.”

The second time she said it felt like the first one, because it was only then that you comprehended what was truly happening – a wave of reality slithered through your bloodstream. There seemed to be ice dilated through your epidermis. And then you wanted to cry. And laugh like a maniac. And just fucking scream until your lungs bleed.

A flood of the most disparate emotions that weighed them all down your esophagus and blistered your lungs in a heterogeneous amalgamation, composed of astonishment and exasperation, expelled from both your flared nostrils in a gasping breath of cold fear, whereupon you wrinkled your eyebrows and the blood froze within your veins. You gazed at her hand resting on her abdomen. The baby was the size of a prune in there, and growing.

Ten weeks ago you were in London and she had said something about having children in the future, maybe two or three, when the world would be a better place for you to live again, and you agreed with her without giving it much thought; after all, children would come sometime into your marriage, when you actually planned to have them.

This was only supposed to happen a few years from then, and not that same night when you lay together and moaned each other’s names. But it’s not like you two knew at the time that Wanda actually had a unique way of manifesting her inner desires.

The blistering sourness at the edge of your mouth was nothing like an association with the doses of coffee you’d been sipping with Steve just a few minutes before. And then you blinked at Wanda again, like a broken doll, because you didn’t know what else you could possibly do – a crinkle formed by a beam of skin across the strands of your eyebrows.

“Y/n, please…”

“You’re… pregnant” you hesitated at the whispered word, as if it were a bad omen to utter it aloud, “Pregnant.”

She was pregnant, she said. And pregnancy meant a baby – you were going to have a baby. A baby to take care of while you were running away from the rest of the world.

And it didn’t even cross your mind for a half second that Natasha was possibly furious because she took it as a statement of an illogical infidelity on Wanda’s part, no; you just thought you guys would have a supernaturally made baby while you were merely to the firstfruits of your early twenties, being hunted like a couple of wild animals, drooling and roaring. And you were just young.

You had just turned twenty, and she had done so even more recently than you – far too young to truly understand what that statement could truthfully meant at its core.

“Please, please say something.”

You looked at Wanda and she at you, her greenish eyes glistening with another round of warm tears.

Your ominous astonishment and your dread, in company with each other like a grim specter. Pregnancy meant a baby, again, the dawning of a new form of life blossoming within your wife. A child (your child) flourishing inside her affable womb, and every second a little closer to bursting into the world, in your care and hers too.

Your heartstrings even tightened in a grim girdle, bathed in a greedy gloom when you realized one crucial thing – that this would be a child lacking the power of choice, a born possessor of superhuman abilities in which someone would never ask them if they intended to contain it in the first place. Maybe you should indeed cry for your still unborn child. Like you and Wanda, the child to come would have a burden to their shoulders to carry; they already were the heir of a legacy, even without coming into the world.

They would still be able to assimilate the great magnanimity of their powers, all of this inferred by their genetic inheritance as soon as they would take their first breath of life – you just knew they would be born into a decrepit world that would hate them merely for existing.

Wanda, for her part, leaned back against the seat and glanced in your direction, one hand pressing its palm along the length of skin on her forehead. The exhausted sigh on her nose was heavy and occluded.

And then you uttered, through a crack erupted between the pulps of your lips, a sudden and thoughtless sentence, as if in a tasteless gag, because your brain was no longer working properly anymore. You never imagined yourself to be a mother, but that’s what was happening anyway. You and Wanda had made a baby.

“Well,” you muttered poorly after a while, half laughing, but just wanting to burst into bittersweet tears, “Let’s just hope they don’t come out with my sense of humor.”

ᗢ

“I was thinking about Tommy”.

She had exclaimed some day, her back pressed against your chest, your fingertips gently massaging the round contour of your wife's exposed belly, her blouse lifted slightly below her breasts, her creamy skin emanating warmth and tenderness.

“Thomas. Nice, classic, all american way.”

“Thomas, eh?” You hummed thoughtfully, testing the name on the tip of your tongue.

It sounded right, you guessed. But something was still missing, and you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

“Thomas. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas… but what about William, though?”

“William?” she raised her eyebrow.

“Yeah, William. Like William Shakespeare. Or maybe just,” you bit your lower lip in a thoughtful manner, “Just… I don’t know, Will? Willy? Billy, Billy sounds nice to me.”

“Billy,” Wanda repeated it curiously, to see how the name sounded in her tone, “But what if she’s a girl?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Even though I would love if she was a little girl who looked just like you, my maternal instincts say it’s a boy, so I’ll stick with that.”

“But what if, detka?” she leaned the back of her head against the bone of your chin, filling your nostrils with the pleasant scent of strawberry shampoo that emanated from her silky red hair.

You smiled, rubbing small circles into her baby bump. God, you loved her smell.

“Well, I guess we'll have to be prepared for that, then,” you placed a modest kiss in the back of her head, “Do you have any name in mind, baby?”

“I like Talia.”

You thought about it for just a second.

“Tali- ah!”

“Oh!”

You opened your mouth to answer her, but the words never left your throat because there was a small bump, from the inside to the outside of your wife's belly, which touched the palm of your hand and made you stop suddenly with the caresses deposited in Wanda's stomach skin.

Turning her neck quickly, she turned her bright face towards yours, the tips of your noses almost colliding in midair. Wanda's lips carved an excited smile, eyes watered with a haze imbued with the most compassionate kind of love, which was soon mirrored by your own mouth. The baby was kicking.

“Hey, hi,” you grinned, feeling the energic child kicking against your palms, “Hi there, little one. Oh, you’re so strong! You’re so strong, Billy!”

“Tommy,” she corrected your speech, causing your nose to twitch in disagreement.

“Eh, I guess.”

“Hi, my baby,” Wanda put her hands up against yours, both of you holding her belly like it was some kind of basketball, “I’m your mama, kroshka.”

“How… how does it feels?” you asked softly against your wife’s ear, a relentless smile on your face, a beautiful tenderness in your tone.

“It’s… it’s such a strange sensation- it’s kinda fluttery!” she giggled, scrunching her nose. The baby kicked again, touching your spread hands.

“Fluttery, huh,” you repeated, leaning your nose against her hair, allowing yourself to close your eyes for a moment and smile gently,“That’s nice.”

A couple of months later, you were twenty-one when you first held Thomas in your arms – his nose was the same shape as yours, as was the shape of his eyes and the arch of his small mouth. He was warm, affable, and he smelled like the sun and the grass. After another ten painful minutes to Wanda (the house lights going crazy when a mirror shattered against the bedroom floor), William might have had your mother's eyes, but his face was a miniature of your wife's pretty features.

He was yours to hold and protect, and for him, his brother (Billy smelled like the apple trees) and his mother, you just knew you would do anything. Wanda was sweaty, a strand of coppery hair glued against a delicate bundle of skin on her forehead, tearful when she gazed at you, glistening a joyful weak smile on her lips that didn't go away even when you approached and kissed her, because you didn't know any other way to express your feelings at that moment other than joining your lips together.

“I love you. God, I love you so, so much, Wands,” you whispered, your voice loaded with feelings, and she smiled against your lips.

“I love you too, malyshka. You and these boys… You are everything I will ever, ever want in my entire life.”

Billy was snuggled quietly in Wanda's arms, her maternal gaze watching over the little baby in a flash of love, studying his little rosy face with chubby cheeks, wanting to understand everything about him, everything that she could forever engrave in her memory about his little childish traits, and you were the one holding little Tommy against your chest, welcoming his small weight into your body, feeling the heat emanating from him against your own torso. And you were happy.

You were genuinely happy, like never before in your life, as if the passion of the feeling was going to explode and overflow from inside you and you just didn’t quite knew how to deal with so much happiness emanating from you. You looked at her and you thought that she never looked more beautiful before. They were your family. Your children, your wife. You and she, together, wrapped in love, had built a family.

“Thank you, my love,” you sniffed, looking deep into the greenish color of your wife’s eyes “Thank you, Wanda.”

ᗢ

At the latest, with one bare hand pressing Tommy’s little fingers against your warm palm while with the other you do the same with Billy, the three of you walk in light strides, one foot next to the other across the concrete of the dry sidewalk in a thin layer of brightness, wide pools of sunlight that reflect in golden glows in the radiance of a warm afternoon, as a few cars pass by on the asphalt.

The day was reserved to take the boys to the ice cream parlor and the town square, and after you’d duly taught Tommy how to manage the exceptional strength contained in the muscles of both his small hands (this was right after an incident involving a mint ice cream cone boiled down to sticky crumbs and cold dough dripping through your child’s fingers, and a crisis properly avoided by then), you’ve decided within yourself that it was time to get the kids back home.

You, however, genuinely appreciate the moments you had with your two children, because you had lost so many of them, and that’s why you wanted to make up for it. These boys are your greatest love after all, like none before them.

Although so much of the boys refer to Wanda in your vision (Billy’s keen intellect and Tommy’s curious cut determination, always aiming to educate themselves about something new before their childish gaze), synchronically, your own peculiarities are attributed to them as the boys grow; maybe the high-pitched laugh of Billy, and certainly the way Tommy always creases a flash of skin between his brows when he finds himself in some messy situation.

The boys then, walking up to your hips, having draped their small torsos in polyester hoodies in a profuse shade of cobalt-blue and tomato-red, with big superhero symbols (which are so familiar to you) clinging to their busts, chat enthusiastically with each other as you maintain a healthy silence, enjoying every single small lapse of contentment that comes your way.

It’s the simple, frugal little things that you just learned to admire so much.

“Hey, you know who’s best?” Billy turns to his brother, “2003 Tigers! They’re the best!”

“No, they suck!” Tommy readily reiterates, “They suck so bad they suck egg!”

“No, they don’t,” says the other twin, “They’re the best!”

“Doofus.”

“Doofus two.”

“Triple infinity doofus.”

You cross the street after looking from one side to the other, confirming the inexistence of any vehicle that was crossing the lane and the security for this being stated. Billy’s innocuous gaze, however, flickers in a kind of childish diligence, as the boy pours his small, upturned nose into your face – an alluring look passing through his shrewd eyes, which scrutinize the silent figure that was you walking close to his right shoulder.

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

The boy asks you in an astute and somewhat perceptive way, like a little reporter, frowning towards you who leads him by the small hand.

“Of course you can, Bill. You can ask me anything,” and to the boy you offer a complacent smile, "What’s wrong, bud?”

“Are you and mama remarried?”

Your heart misses a beat – but, well, you actually said he could ask whatever he wanted in the first place.

Billy’s light-brown bangs point upwards, towards your sullen-looking face, as a complement to his doubt; the pale little brow creased like a statue, demanding a congruent resolution to his brooding inquiry. Looking to the side, you notice that Tommy does the same – two sets of expectant eyes awaiting some clarification for the so sudden (yet so natural) closeness of their two mother figures.

“Why… why do you think that, honey?”

“Because mama likes you,” he muss, “And you like her too, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” you don’t hesitate, because there’s no way around that fact, “Yeah, I… I like mama. I like her a lot.”

“That’s why!” it’s Tommy’s turn to intervene, “Lisa said at school that when adults like each other and have kids it’s because they’re married. And me and Billy are you and mama’s children, and you and mama like each other now, so you’re remarried, aren’t you?”

There is a momentary pause for you to think, and mentally your curse. There’s no telling two ten-year-olds exactly why you’re not married to their mother anymore, not with the restraint their young age imposes on the notion to what actually is a marriage. Marriage for you is turning to ashes when the other is burning. It’s wanting to stay when you have to leave, and wanting to leave when you have to stay.

“Kids these days know a lot, huh?” the boys limp with their shoulders, and out of you comes a lame whisper, “Well, look kiddo, your mama and I… It’s a little complicated, you know?”

“Complicated why?”

You, in a breath of mild air diffused through both your fearful nostrils, stop walking and let go of the boys’ hands, crouching on your knees bent inside the material that makes up your light jeans, so that, in such a way, your height matches the 4'5 inches which the two twins comprise in their avid childlike stature.

“It’s just,” and you click the tip of your tongue against the roof of your mouth in a bad way, “Adult things are complicated, you understand?”

Billy and Tommy’s keen eyes still scrutinize you, as enraptured as a probe or even a satellite. Even with their intellectualities restricted by such a tender and young age, lacking experience and cognitions of discernment for being just a child in the bosom of their childhood, the twins are still very attentive and committed to understanding more and more of the world around them, and so much they are able to understand through their ingenious perception.

They are nothing but a pair of very smart kids.

“A marriage… a marriage is so much more than just liking one or the other, honey. A marriage is a commitment, it’s a promise made between two people who love each other very much and that after a while doesn’t involve just them anymore. Me and your mama, we made that promise. We made that commitment, but… sometimes things just don’t go as planned. Some things happen and people… people change, kids. And sometimes people make mistakes when they change. I… I’ve changed. I messed up. And I hurt your mama when I messed up. And because of that, she also changed.”

There is a dismayed pause on your part.

“We were in a bad spot and so we just decided it would be better this way for both of us. It’s just that we were still quite young, you know? Too young to understand what we were doing with our lives, how it all worked and would work after… after… you know, after…”

You do not want to talk. You don’t want to bring it back. You don’t want to think about it anymore, not again. Not with them.

“Mom?” Tommy calls, winking in your direction, “Are you okay?”

You shake your head silently. There’s no reason to think about it now.

“Yes, buddy, I’m okay, don’t worry,” is a murmur on your part, “It’s just… complicated. I wish I could explain this properly, but the truth is, I don’t know how to do it. But I just want you to know that yes, your mama and I really like each other. Mainly because we made you. And you two sure are the best part of both of us.”

You smile at them, who remind you so much of you, but much more of Wanda. Your heart throbs an avid thud against the ribs in your torso; an affable warmth radiates through your bones and veins, inflates your lungs in a warm cordiality, giving you the sensation of having a deluge of loves filling your passionate core with appreciation and fascination.

It’s not the first time in your life that this has happened, but it’s been a while since your feelings fluttered with such amazement; since their birth, these children became your greatest source of pride.

And your affectionate smile is reflected by the boy—both brothers with eyes pressed into two tiny slits of glistening eyelashes, pearly lips curled up in a simile smile, because Billy and Tommy are your children, your epigonus and your joy, a small part of you and the spirit of your love. Your children with your beloved Wanda, to watch over and support.

“Well,” you get to your feet then, lifting your knees, “I guess we better get home soon, right? Or your mama will start to think I lost you two in the woods.”

They laugh when they readily take the hands you offer them. And then you walk home again, just one step at a time.

ᗢ

“Seriously dude, take it easy! What the hell!” you complain, weary and fretful, gasping for short breaths of air expelled from your tired lungs.

There is a brief attempt at a punch by your virtuous arm – duly evaded, however – and then the man takes advantage of the momentary gap to strike you with a closed hand right in the esophagus, at a central point of contact, precisely striking between your ribs.

And you fall to the floor immediately, and then you take a long time to get up, sniffling painfully as you do. Sam Wilson, the current bearer of the allegorical Captain America mantle, however, only quirks a dark brow, chipping a broken smile at the corner of his lip.

"Shit…”

With a bend of the wrist, you sweep away the oil from your sweat from your forehead, right at the ends of your hairline, from a mixture of the torrid climate with the strenuous physical activities required in a training, carried out assiduously by both of you and the Captain America for the last few hours.

He, who approaches you to provide a helping hand, which you use to leverage yourself back to your starting position, despite keeping your own hand flat on your stomach area and a disgusted look on your face, wrinkling the eyebrows in the middle of your forehead.

“I thought you were supposed to be invincible, mutant girl?”

“Man, shut the hell up,” you grumble in a bad way, taking distance from the other combatant.

And then, Sam lifts his clenched hands into sturdy fists to close to his particularly flushed cheekbones, making back-and-forth motions with his fingers, demanding a new thrust on your part.

“Come on, kid, let’s do it again.”

“All right.”

There’s another advance attempt, thwarted by an accurate block for every single strike you deliver against Sam.

The two of you drape your agile bodies into practice suits appropriate for a series of physical exercises, soaked in a sticky sweat that attaches your shirts to your stuffy skins, engaged in an avid hand-to-hand combat that, vector of such grace and discipline in its movements, so regulated, were, in turn, leveled to a choreographed dance, with light and meticulous actions.

You articulate a new punch, your fingers pressed together to do so, but Sam, in turn, holds your wrist in a handshake and circles your shoulder joint until your fist touches the scapula in your back, putting you on hold, down on your own knees. While you are indeed quite knowledgeable when it comes to physical combat, it turns out that you are just too out of shape to deal with someone who knows as much as you do.

And Sam, a former teammate, already knows how to use your superhuman strength to his advantage.

“Okay, okay, I got it, let me go!” you whine, the tip of your nose almost touching the floorboard under your bare feet.

Without delay, Sam lets go of your arm after hearing such pleas – rather pleased to do so, in fact.

You get to your feet, albeit a little whiny, and with your left hand you begin a disconcerted massage of your right shoulder that flares in sedentary pain. The captain, however, has his hands clasped at his sides wrapped in basketball shorts, and a small, playful smile doesn’t escape his amused lips.

“Man, when you said you were out of shape I believed you, but seriously,” he mutters then, looking in your direction as you pant heavily, “You really have seen better days, huh.”

“Well, when you said exercise helps mental health I believed it,” you gasp, “But all I’m feeling right now is pain… and to tell you the truth I think I’m a little sadder since when I arrived, also."

He smiles jovially.

“Believe me, it’ll be worth it in the long run,” and then he playfully punches you in the right bicep, “Come on, let’s take a break. You need to hydrate.”

“Oh, I need to hydrate,” you grumble like a grumpy kid, “Dude, when I was seventeen I kicked your ass every time we trained together!”

“Yeah, but that’s the age thing, isn’t it?” says Sam, as he takes a thermos of water in his right hand, “You get old and then you can’t do what you used to do.”

“Are you really calling me old? R-really?!”

It’s your indignant question, hoisting both your eyebrows at the man, an avid shake of your head, a shaft of hair slipping out of your ponytail and flashing across your vision as you do.

“When I’m literally younger than you?!”

“Well, only one of us is way out of shape here, and it certainly isn’t me.”

You roll your eyes in their sockets as you walk away, looking for water to quench your inordinate thirst that makes your tongue feel like a rough stone. There’s a comfortable silence as you press your lips around the spout of a plastic water bottle, your left hand braced on your hip, a tired little crease formed between the strands of both of your brows furrowed across your glossy forehead.

Good-natured airs were made swift in the task of cramping the entire training room of the Avengers’ compound, as you allow yourself to expel a breath of tired air from the core of your lungs, uneasy at the physical situation in which you and Sam find yourselves in.

“So,” he says after a few seconds, lips shining through a layer of water, “How’s therapy going, huh? Buck said you’ve been going for a while and haven’t given up until now."

“It’s been going well, I think,” you shrug, “I haven’t had a drink in a while and I’ve been smoking less, not to mention I’m also spending more time with the boys and Wanda, so there’s not a lot of time in my day to do these things anymore. And panic attacks are getting more manageable, too. I consider this a step forward.”

You turn your face towards the man with the goatee.

“It is a step forward, in fact. And I’m happy for you, Y/n,” Sam flashes a half-proud smile in your direction, “But Wanda and the boys, huh? So things are working out with the little witch? Because look, I remember the two of you couldn’t go five minutes without keeping your hands off each other when you were younger."

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble, even though a silly little smile wants to hide between your lips.

“But it’s true!” The captain exclaims, “You two were a cute couple… even if you were going at it like rabbits all over the compound. I mean, it was always crazy when my room was next to yours when we were on the run. Your girl really has a great set of lungs, huh?”

“Dude,” you look at him, and he chuckles in your direction, “Just shut up.” You know the hot sting in your flushed cheeks isn’t just from the workout anymore.

#wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff imagine #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #wanda x reader #wanda smut #wanda maximoff x reader

[ramp-it-up]

The Playlist: F*cking Bucky

Summary: Bucky’s seduction powers are on 100. Can you continue to resist him, or will you give in?

Pairing: Dark CEO! Bucky Barnes x Journalist! Reader

Word count: more than 3K

Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY, SMUT. Minors DNI. Steve, Sam and Natasha, pining playlists, jealousy, flirting, voyeurism, eavesdropping, cybersex, dirty talk, unknown? masturbation for an audience, running for pleasure, degradation kink, definite Dom/sub elements, orgasm denial, edging, narrated masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), pulling out, after care, pining, manipulation, mention of loss, surveillance, Dark Bucky.

A/N: I meant to put this out on the weekend, but instead I went outside, lol. This is part of the Playlist Series. Read the previous part, Chill, Buck. @ysmmsy and @blackwidownat2814 are my exquisite muses who created the playlists, with more to come. 😉 Thanks you both! 🥰 please leave feedback, like and reblog. It helps to inspire me. 😊

The playlist is real and is linked here!

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

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

“Hell no, Max.”

Your agent, Maxine Shaw, just offered you a ridiculous amount of money for a writing gig. It was right up your alley as you had background knowledge on the subject.

The only problem was that it involved working very closely with James Buchanan Barnes.

“First of all, one month? That's an impossible timeline. Second, Barnes is an asshole.”

That wasn’t exactly true, he was just annoying, but you felt hyperbole was appropriate for this situation.

Max leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re going to turn down this amount of money for a cake job? I’m told he already has a manuscript, you’d basically be an editor and gap filler.” 

Max stared at you, incredulous. 

“This isn’t ghostwriting, you would get a legitimate byline. A story about Barnes is sure to be a bestseller.”

Then she leaned forward and really scrutinized you.

“Romanoff said you might not be up to it. I laughed in her face. Was she right?”

You opened and then closed your mouth, face heating up. Telling you that you couldn’t accomplish something was a sure fire way to get you to do that something.

But surely Natasha didn’t know that.

You raised your chin.

“Send me the info.”

Bucky walked into the room at 8:30 am, exactly the same time he did everyday, when he was confident that he would be the first to arrive. Sam and Steve usually didn’t arrive until 9. He liked his quiet time.

This morning, however, he was greeted with laughter in the room and Natasha waiting for him as the elevator opened.

“Morning, Boss.”

She handed Bucky some files and watched as he stared at the scene in front of him: you sandwiched between Sam and Steve on the couch.

“Well, hello, Buck! I see you finally made it in this morning.”

Steve stood up first, then Sam who grinned at Bucky, who only had eyes for you.

Bucky raised his eyebrow as he came toward you, then stopped short of being able to reach out and touch.

He took you in as he approached. You were wearing a wrap dress that showcased your figure nicely. Almost too nicely. You looked amazing. He knew his friends and he knew they had already checked you out. Possessiveness coursed through Bucky’s body as he looked down at you.

That little jaw clench and the glare in Bucky’s eye did things to you. You felt as if you were in trouble. 

And why did that make you wet? 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Bucky addressed you as you looked up at him, staring at him with those damn doe eyes. You looked a little scared. It made him want to pull you into the bathroom and…He cleared his throat.

“Ms. YLN wanted to begin her work with you by interviewing your two best friends who also happen to be the COO and the CFO of CapTech. We were just about to start breakfast.”

Bucky scanned the room to see the dining table set up with quite the spread.

“Begin her work?” 

Although he was responding to Nat’s statement, he was looking straight at you.

“I’m beginning my work on the memoir. Background information.”

Bucky looked confused for a moment, then he turned to Natasha. 

“Ah, the memoir. I didn't realize we’d decided on the writer for that.”

Natasha was nonplussed. She shrugged.

“Well, YN did such a fantastic job on the profile that I thought she deserved first shot at this.”

Bucky looked annoyed, but then looked back at you.

“Of course. I hope you didn’t feel pressured.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t seem to want you to do this. Well, fuck him. You drew yourself up to your full height, which in heels was four inches shorter than him.

“The contracts are signed, Mr. Barnes. But if you want to break them…”

“I’m not sure we can afford that,” interjected Sam, ever the CFO. “That’s not a good financial plan.” 

Then he turned to you, smile blinding. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“I guess you’re right, Mr. Wilson. Because I would hold you to the termination fee.”

Bucky scowled as your tone changed to playful. Steve was already at the table pulling out your chair.

“Okay. Sam has been monopolizing your time all morning, let’s talk about what it takes to operate this company day to day…”

You chuckled and shook your head as you sat down, Sam and Steve flanking you at the table. Bucky simmered as you held court with his buddies. He watched and listened to the conversation through narrowed eyes.

“…we got into quite a few scraps when we were kids in Brooklyn, isn’t that right , Buck?”

“That’s right.” 

Bucky sipped his coffee and then responded.  

“Did Steve tell you that he weighed 90 pounds when we graduated high school?”

“Low blow…” you heard Sam say as he coughed.

You glared at Bucky, then turned to appraise Steve.

“Well, looks like he filled out nicely.” 

You put your hand on Steve’s arm and he flexed for you. You didn’t have to pretend to be impressed at the muscles underneath his suit coat.

Bucky felt both like an asshole for the jab at Steve, and a tongue tied fool, because he couldn’t find anything civil to say when his buddies were blatantly flirting with you. And when you were flirting back.

Another half hour of conversation with Sam and Steve gained you some information for the direction you wanted to steer the memoir.  The only problem was, you hadn’t read what Bucky had written. When Sam and Steve and Nat excused themselves for their 10 o’clock meeting, Bucky walked you to the door.

“I know that you don’t want me to take this job, but I have some good ideas if you let me read your manuscript….”

Bucky held up his hand.

“Wait. You know what now?”

You drew yourself up to your full height.

“Well, I…”  

You stopped for a moment and looked him in the eyes. 

“I know you said you wouldn’t ask me for anything ever again. And I know that Ms. Romanoff presented this to my agent, so I won’t charge you the termination fee..”

Bucky interrupted you again.

“I was referring to asking you anything… personal.” 

Bucky’s eyes told the story. He’d just accepted your curve. So why were you disappointed?

“You are a very talented writer. Of course I want you to do this.” 

Bucky looked down at the floor and your cute toes in your open toed heels. 

When he looked back up at you, the little boy was back.

“I just felt… 

Bucky paused and you felt as if you’d tripped and fallen into the pools of his eyes.

“Natasha didn’t let me know she had asked you so soon…”

“Oh…”

After you said it, you realized that you had been holding your breath. You took in air and watched his mouth quirk up on one side. 

“I see. You wanted to be in control of the situation.”

Bucky’s look changed; sky blue eyes turned grey.

“I do like being in control.”

All of a sudden, you couldn’t breathe again.

Maybe you liked him being in control too, the way your body was responding. Your mouth opened wider and your eyes dilated.

Bucky noticed your reaction but just took note, raised his eyebrow, and barreled ahead. You’d just given him the key to unlock the puzzle of you. His mind whirred with a plan.

“I have a home office in my brownstone. I work on my story there. Sam and Steve are… distracting.”

Sam who? Steve what? There was no other man on the earth right now.

Bucky was thinking there was no other woman but you. He cleared his throat.

“The only working copy of my manuscript is on my encrypted computer there, along with the only hard copies. We will work there.”

You hesitated before answering, and Bucky filled the void.

“I’ll send you the address and also the code to the door.”

Bucky leaned toward you and you thought he was going to kiss you, but he swerved and pressed the down button on the elevator.

This man.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon? I’ll take a late lunch and go home early. 3pm or 4pm?” 

Bucky looked at you intently as you struggled to think. He was so cute.

“3 pm it is,” He chuckled, replying only when you didn't answer.

You stepped backward into the elevator when you heard the door open.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky smirked as the doors closed. He turned to face Sam and Steve and the barrage that he knew was coming.

That afternoon, you carefully read the code that Bucky texted you when you arrived at his Brownstone. It was not very far at all from your apartment. How convenient, you thought. You admired the nice dark brick facade and the surrounding neighborhood. Very nice.

You entered the code on the door and pushed the heavy oak door open.

Inside, Bucky’s place was immaculate. From the piano, to the large windows, to the high ceilings and natural wood, you could tell that only the finest materials had been used. You smelled fresh paint, but also a fresh clean linen scent. 

You looked around the place and did not see a trace of Bucky’s former life except for a picture of him and Sam and Steve when they were younger.

You heard what you thought was a groan from the other room. You stopped moving and listened for it again. When you heard it, you moved toward the sound, hoping that no one was hurt.

“You are killing me, Doll.”

It was Bucky’s voice, and you thought you heard a smile in it. You stopped in the hallway and listened further.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I wanna see all of you. You wanna do that for me? Show me allll of you?”

You listened and quickly surmised that Bucky was talking to someone who wasn’t in the room. And he was doing more than talking.

Your cheeks heated and you felt some kind of way, but then you thought, this was his house, he was a man, and he had needs. And you’d rejected him. You couldn’t be mad. Could you?

Besides, you were the one in the wrong by eavesdropping. You tried to quietly go back out to the entryway.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

You froze, thinking you’d been caught.

“I need to see that pussy weep for me. Can you show me how I make you feel Doll? I can tell that you want me from the look on that pretty little face. Show me what is mine. I’ll show you what is yours.

You couldn’t help but peek around the corner, and had to cover your mouth in shock. Bucky was stroking himself! 

You pressed yourself up against the wall and closed your eyes, mortified. But then what you saw registered in your brain.

Bucky Barnes was hung like a horse.

You clenched your thighs together and bit your lip. Surely, you were mistaken. You had to look again.

This time, you stayed long enough to verify what you saw. Bucky’s large hand was wrapped around a beautiful specimen of a cock. He had earbuds in and was staring at a laptop screen, showing whomever he was talking to what he was working with. 

That lucky bitch.

“You want this dick?”

You peered around the corner and saw Bucky holding his cock up and pointing it at the computer. You could help but stare, because even across the room, you could tell it was huge, uncut, tan and veiny, the shiny head appearing and reappearing as he slowly jacked it.

‘I want it bad,’ you thought, and licked your lips. Then you bit your bottom lip, surprised at yourself.

“Ahhhh, shitt! I love when you do that. Touch yourself for me, please Doll?”

You straightened up again, heart beating a mile a minute. Why did you have the urge to do what he was commanding? You closed your eyes and willed your hands to stay at your sides.

“Be a good girl. Don't be a bad one. You know what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

You stood still and closed your eyes, trying to decide if you wanted to be a good girl or a bad one. You decided to be a professional woman. You started to tiptoe back down the hall.

“You better not run. Come back here. Don’t run from this dick…”

You heard Bucky murmuring to his mystery person as you slinked away. You stopped in the vestibule, shook. You heard your heart pounding in your ears and decided to just leave and walk home.

You reached your apartment in no time.

You decided to text Bucky about your appointment. You still had work to do so you decided to put what you witnessed out of your mind.

He didn’t answer, probably because he was in the shower washing cum off of his…

You had to stop. 

You decided to go for a run to clear your head.

Your pace was good. You checked your time as you rounded the curve for the second kilometer of your run. Someone swerved past you. You looked up at that voice.

“Hey, you!”

You looked back, stunned to see Bucky running, looking amazing in those shorts and a muscle shirt. Damn.

You averted your eyes from his crotch to look at him, but you kept going. He circled back to run beside you.

You were salty. He could run, but he didn’t have time to meet with you? 

“‘Lo. What are you up to?”

The question seemed straightforward enough. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm to be found. Yet you still sideyed him.

“You good?”

Bucky sounded worried when you didn’t respond.

That voice. The connotation that phrase brought up. Yes, you were a good girl, Mr. Barnes, Sir.

You shook your head, but said, “Sure, just wondering what happened to our meeting this afternoon.”

Bucky stopped and you looked back again, but then he caught up with you.

“That wasn’t… today, was it?”

“Yeeeessss?”

Bucky looked confused. 

“I clearly remember setting our meeting up for 4 pm tomorrow afternoon…”

He looked so cute and earnest.

“No, we set it up for 3 pm today….”

At this point, you both stopped and were staring at each other. To be honest, you had been so flustered when setting up the appointment and then with the events of this afternoon, you really didn’t know what was up.

The tension between you was palpable as you stared into Bucky’s baby blues.

Bucky furrowed his brow and started to speak a couple of times. Then, you both burst out laughing.

“You know, I was kind of distracted this morning, so, I really don’t remember clearly.”

Bucky’s chest was heaving and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips. You were in his orbit, attracted to him in the worst way, but you started jogging again. That long distance chick must have Bucky wide open.

“She must be hot…”

Real subtle, y/n, you thought. 

“What? Who?” 

The surprise in Bucky’s voice was evident. You stopped again.

“I mean, must be something, or someone powerful to distract that mind of yours.”

You looked up into Bucky’s eyes, not caring if the jealousy was showing. He beamed down at you and you felt like the center of the world. But he had someone else. Right?

“Yeah, only someone powerful could distract me like that.” 

Bucky sucked his bottom lip and released it slowly while surveying your body in your tight running shorts and tank top. You felt like a bad girl. Then, Bucky resumed jogging.

“I mean, as CEO of a tech company, you probably meet women all over the world. Could be hard to navigate long distance relationships.”

You were not even trying to hide your nosiness. Bucky chuckled.

“It is hard. That’s why I don’t do long distance.”

Your surprise made you almost stumble.

“I haven’t had a real relationship since…”

Bucky glanced at you.

“Well, in a good while.”

“Hmmmmm. But you have needs. Right?”

Bucky stopped and stood toe to toe with you, so close.

“Yes, I have needs.”

He looked right through you.

“Don’t you?”

Then he took off running again.

It took you a minute to digest what he was saying, and when you got it, you slowed down. Bucky ran back to you and you both stopped again.

“So are we doing this?”

You looked up at him and stepped closer.

“I mean, you gotta run, I gotta run. Are we gonna do this? Can you keep up with me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky’s smile dropped, and his eyes became stormy again.

“I’m pretty fast now.”

“I bet. Don’t make me have to chase you, little girl.”

Your toes curled in your shoes. Bucky Barnes could get it. It was a done deal. You were exhausted of running from him, but this time he turned and ran, and you ran after him.

It was quite the workout, and Bucky most certainly paced with you, but your time was getting markedly better on the route through Bridge Park. When you ended up at the door to your apartment building, you turned to face Bucky, panting. 

“Wanna invite me up?”

You wanted nothing more. But you couldn’t help your reflex.

“No.”

“Yeah. Right. I get it. Had to ask.”

“Even though you said you wouldn’t.”

He smirked down at you. He’d been growing his hair out a little and a lock was flopping forward. You almost reached up to brush it out of his eyes, but you knew that if you touched him, even his hair, it would be game over.

Bucky’s hands were at his sides, clenched in fists to keep from touching you. He wanted to lean down to kiss you, but he wanted you to make the first move.

“Why do you want to come up?”

“For a drink…” Bucky licked his lips. “… of water.”

You gulped, your own throat parched with desire. Your eyes shined his body, to the glistening torso that was visible through the shirt to those short shorts.

“Oh.”

Now you felt rude as fuck.

“I didn’t hydrate properly…” It seemed that Bucky was getting closer, “… before the run.” 

Now he was looking over your head to try and control the inevitable. You wondered if he got off on his call earlier. Did he have any left over for you? You looked down and then toward the river when you swore you saw a bulge in Bucky’s shorts.

Somehow, you were closer to him, if you looked up, and he bent down, your lips would touch.

You turned your head and spoke to the car parked to his right.

“So you’re saying you’re…thirsty…”

“Yes…”

Bucky’s voice was gravelly and fucking sexy.

“I can bring a bottle down…”

Bucky shook his head and looked down the street.

“Nah, by the time you go up and come back down, I can get home…”

You looked toward Bucky’s house.

“Oh…”

You felt like an idiot. For a writer, you couldn’t find any other words than ‘oh.’

“Then come…come on up.”

You had to concentrate not to stutter.

“Thank you! Such a good one.”

You could hear Bucky’s smile behind you and you could practically feel his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.

When you reached your apartment and entered,  Bucky looked around and then went to the window as you went into your tiny kitchen to get him a water bottle.

He turned around and looked at you piercingly as you brought it to him. You’d kicked off your running shoes when you entered the door and that made him that much taller when you were in front of him.

Bucky grabbed the bottle. Your fingers touched yet you didn’t pull them back. As you looked into his eyes, you noticed something.

“I just realized, you’re not wearing your glasses.”

He smirked at you.

“Contacts. Not a good look to have fogged up glasses when your face is getting wet…”

Your mouth opened slightly.

“...While you’re running.” 

Bucy took a sip of water, then a lager gulp, emptying the glass.

“Thank you. It was so good of you…” He looked down at you. “I feel like thanking you in some way…”

He looked around the room and then back at you. You felt guilty as hell.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.”

He cocked his head at you.

“Tell me why you think that.”

“Because…” 

You went on to tell him what happened earlier that afternoon. His face was inscrutable as he registered the information.

“Sooo… you eavesdropped on a private conversation. A very private conversation. And then snuck back out of my home without saying anything.”

“Y-yes.”

Why did you feel as if you were in danger as Bucky moved closer to you?

“Is that why you were asking about my needs earlier?”

You didn’t, you couldn’t answer.

“Is it because you liked what you saw?”

He was circling you now, like a predator, and you were frozen to the spot. When he got behind you he raised his voice, just a little. 

“Answer me. ”

You shivered at his smooth, dangerous tone.

“I- I-yes- no- I don’t know….”

He came back around in front of you.

“Well, I can alleviate some speculation. As I said, I don’t do long distance relationships, but I can pay for what I need. And that’s nobody’s business because no one has any claim on me. Especially you. Because you said you didn’t want it. Didn’t you?”

You just stared but he gave you that look and you replied.

“I said that. Yes.”

“Have you changed your mind? What do you want, y/n?”

“I want…” 

You looked down at the floor, gathering your strength. Then back up at Bucky. 

“I want you.”

“Oh. You got aroused by what you saw, and now you want me to give you…satisfaction?…” 

You nodded, biting your lip. Now was not the time for games the way your panties were drenched.

“I feel like a little bit of a whore. And I need to be punished. Immediately.”

Your jaw dropped at what you just said.

Bucky grinned.

“Oh really. That critical? Well let’s see what we can do…”

He finally touched you, grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him for a kiss. It was everything, passionate, with a promise.

“Where is your bed?

You smiled up at him, took his hand, and led him to your bedroom.

Bucky kissed you senseless as soon as you entered the room. You took off your tank and sports bra and Bucky discarded his muscle shirt. Your eyes watered at his bare chest and abs.

He stood back and admired you.

“So gotdamn gorgeous,” Bucky whispered, almost to himself. “Take off those shorts. Don’t forget the panties.”

You hurried to obey, the situation making your pussy cry for his attention. He reached out to touch you, thumbs gently thrumming your nipples. You threw your head back and moaned. Then he drew his hands back. You looked up, mind scattered.

“I was so wrong when I assumed that you were a good girl earlier. And I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

Bucky watched as you bit your lip.

“You are not a good girl. Good girls don’t eavesdrop. I’m going to show you what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

The thrill that ran through your body was like nothing else.

“Do you want me to show you that? Do you want this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky drew in a breath.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed in .3 seconds.

“Yessss. That’s it. So obedient for me.” 

Bucky caressed the side of your face. You turned and captured his thumb in your mouth, sucking and looking up at him.

“Fuck, is that what you want? You want to suck my dick?”

You nodded, taking his thumb with you, which caused him to press it in deeper. He leaned down toward you.

“Now why would I want to go ahead and do that? You’ve been a very bad girl.”

Bucky straightened up, and pulled his dick out of his running shorts. It was more beautiful up close. You sighed as he started stroking it right in your face. 

“Do you see how I’m already dripping for you?”

You looked up at his cock, a beautiful clear bead of precum shining on its tip. Then you looked up at him and nodded.

“It’s a shame that you won’t get to suck it like you want to...” 

You whimpered in disappointment. He ignored you.

“Now, spread those knees apart and let me see how you would have gotten off tonight while you thought of me stroking off.”

He drew in a ragged breath as you looked up at him with those eyes and started to touch yourself.

“Wider, let me see that pussy from up here.”

You shifted so that he could see better what you were doing.

“Shit. That looks delicious. Get it nice and creamy for me. I’m gonna have my fill of you tonight.”

He looked pained as he jerked himself, drops of precum landing on your body. Your juices made for an audible display of your current situation; desperate for Bucky Barnes’ cock.

“Stop! Hands away.”

Bucky glared at you when you whined.

“Don’t act like a brat. You brought this on yourself. Get on the bed, ass up.”

You did as you were told, hoping that he would finally touch you.

“Now play some more for me.”

Bucky groaned as you wiggled your ass and reached for yourself.

“Stop, suck your fingers and get them wet, then stick them in as far as they will go.”

You whimpered and did as you were told, but your fingers were inadequate for what you wanted. Why you needed.

“Fuck, that little pussy looks so good. Add another finger. If I’m gonna fuck you, you need to be stretched out more than that.”

Next thing you knew, you felt his lips on your lower ones, and his tongue was doing unspeakable things to you as you fingered yourself. You saw stars at the obscene way that Bucky Barnes was eating you out.

The way he was smacking his lips and yours was curdling your brian. His tongue started licking you faster and faster and his lips were sucking your clit until you almost came. Then he stopped. You groaned in frustration.

Bucky stood up and backed away, stroking himself again.

“Turn over, do it again while I stroke myself off.” 

Again, you did as you were told.

This time, you licked your fingers obscenely, fellating them so that he could see what his cock was missing. He groaned and stroked faster as you circled your clit skillfully, playing with your nipple with your other hand.

“Fuck that looks so fucking….” 

Then he looked you in the eyes.

“You’re trying to get fucked, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, but you were just his cock slut at this point.

“Well, if you can keep going as long as I say, and not cum, I might give you this dick.”

You bit your lip at the challenge, going to town on yourself, as nasty as you wanted to be. The faces and the grunts that came from him made it really hard to stay on earth, so you closed your eyes.

“Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes. You fucking slut.”

You snapped your eyes opened and were about to cum when you saw his big hand going a mile a minute around his bick cock, making his shiny red head appear and reappear in his palm, but he commanded, “Stop!” just in time, and grabbed your ankle, pulling you down to the edge of the bed.

“You’re about to get it now. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

Bucky spread your thighs and spread them wide, swiping his slick cock head at your entrance.

“Can you take this cock?”

“I need it!”

“Want it raw? Want me to stretch this little pussy out?” 

Bucky was already inching inside you, causing a delicious burn that you wanted more of.

“Fuck yes!”

“Then be a good girl and….” 

Bucky slid inside you, making you take his cock like you’d never had to before with anyone else.

“Sooooo fucking wet and soooo fucking tight.” 

Bucky looked down at you, eyes shining. His chest was heaving with the effort to restrain himself. He couldn’t believe that he was where he’d wanted to be for a while now. And so he smiled at you.

“This pussy seems made for me.”

And then he started to move. It was a mind numbing experience of sensations, his thick, pulsing cock skating in the slick of your tight, stretched cunt. He fell down to his elbows and pressed his forehead against yours as you both looked down and watched the phenomenon.

“How does it feel, Sir?”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned as his hips faltered.

“Am I wet enough?”

“Fuck!”

Your voice in his ear was making him lose the facade of control that he had hanging by a string now that he was inside you.

“Feelsss…. Feels like… Fuck! …Don’t ask me…”

“Don’t ask what? How my pussy feels for you?”

“Holy mother of god I….”

Bucky took your thighs in his hand, pulled you to the edge of the bed again and started pounding. Then, he took your windpipe between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’ll teach you to try to…”

The way your eyes rolled back in your head had Bucky spurting inside of you already. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…..”

Bucky was fucking you ruthlessly. You’d never had it like this.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You clenched around his cock and Bucky pulled out at the last possible second, shooting his cum on your stomach while reaching down and plucking your clit with his thumb. You finally came with a loud yell and a smile.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky was still milking his cock over you, so you reached down, gathered some cum on your fingers, and inserted them in your mouth. Bucky’s eyes rolled and he pulsed a last little bit of spend on your body.

“Where is your bathroom?”

You pointed toward your right and Bucky went in, ran some water and came out cleaned up, and with a washcloth for you. He sat down on the bed and tenderly took care of you. Then, he leaned down and kissed the belly that he’d just used. He leaned on his elbow and stared at you.

“You satisfied?”

“Hmmmmm. Yes.”

Bucky looked worried, then cleared his throat.

“Good. That was… it was very good for me too.” 

You smiled at him, trying to reassure him, then you started to speak. He stopped you.

“No worries, this shouldn’t affect our working relationship. We’re both adults. We can be professional, right?”

What you wanted was the farthest thing from professional, but you replied, “Right.”

Bucky kissed your nose, then stood up and started getting dressed. You got up and put on your robe, seeing him to the door.

Bucky smiled at you as he left.

“Tomorrow, 4 pm. My brownstone.”

You smiled back.

“And please announce yourself when you come in?”

Bucky winked as he started down the stairs, leaving you watching him until you couldn’t see him anymore.

When he was gone, and you were alone in your apartment, you wondered how the fuck You we’re supposed to be professional when you were addicted to that dick.

You were thinking hard when Bucky sent you a message 10 minutes later.

The text said:

Something to play with ;)

Early the next morning, too early, Bucky woke up drenched in sweat and reached for his glasses, medicine, and the bottle of water next to his bed.

It had been a while since he’d had the familiar nightmare about what happened Sarah. And his baby.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and came back to the present. He got up to run the shower and looked into the mirror. He felt guilty for not having Sarah on his mind as much lately. But you were quite the distraction. 

He’d finally found a reason to move on with his life. 

You.

You and Sarah were nothing alike. Your spirit, and your spunk were unlike any other person he’d ever met. He couldn’t bend you to his will.

Not that Sarah had been a pushover, but with her, it had been so easy. Bucky and Sarah fell for each other at first sight and immediately started sneaking around behind Sam’s back. They’d been like yin and yang, not the oil and water that you and he had become. 

Bucky looked deep into his own eyes in the mirror to see if they still reflected the feral violence he wreaked on the men who tried to kidnap them and inadvertently killed his wife and baby in the process. 

Now, five years after all of that you made Bucky’s heart race again, something that running couldn’t even do.

It was meant to be.

After five years out of the limelight, everyone was curious about the sorrow-filled story of what happened to James Buchanan Barnes, and your light, humor-filled piece was skillfully written and hinted at the deeper story. It was good journalism without being mean spirited and he respected you for your skill. 

He wanted you for your body, and he wanted in your mind and soul. 

Bucky Barnes needed you. Now that he had given you a taste of the physical, he just need to make you fall in love with him.

He wished that you were here beside him where you belonged, but all in due time. His plan was proceeding perfectly. 

Bucky did his breathing exercises and walked into a cool morning shower. After that, Bucky settled into bed with his laptop to make sure that you were okay.

The surveillance team he hired was in place outside your building, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully from what he could see from the cameras placed inside your apartment.

Bucky sighed and closed his laptop, attempting to turn off his brain so that he could gain a few more moments of sleep as the sun started to rise.

What a day today would be.

Feedback is the essence of life. Reblog and read the next in the series, Bucky Charms.

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