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mostfacinorous · 2 years

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Whumptober No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY Loki and Steve Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

He’d been back and forth to this realm for the last few years, but he still didn’t understand the bounds of human technology. His visit before his attempts to conquer had been so long ago, in their years, that they had gone from building with mud to living in the sky.

Which was, he reasoned, why he had ended up in his current predicament. How was he to know they had come up with containment to hold him? How was he to suspect they had the ability to discover his weaknesses?

Loki was sitting in the center of a round glass cage, much like the one he’d spent time in on the airship during his little invasion– only, they had modified it. It was clearly made specifically for him, now.

There was a circle on the floor that was roughly the width of a doorway across, and as long as he stayed in it, he was fine.

Crossing it, however, caused the heat to rise, sharply and immediately, until he retreated to the circle, and it slowly cooled back down.

And of course, due to his accursed heritage, even while in his seemingly Aesir skin, the heat would sap him of his strength, render him exhausted and weak and unable to think.

And so now he sat, careful not to so much as nudge his foot out of the circle. He’d experimented with that– it had ended poorly.

He had also curled up into a tiny knot of his own limbs, in an attempt to sleep. It had worked, in that he had nodded off, but at some point his body had attempted to stretch itself out, and the heat had been triggered, and he had woken, groggy and sweating and miserable. He’d stood in the circle in an attempt to dry himself, and it had taken, as near as he could tell, the better part of an hour for his cage to return to a temperature he considered comfortable. It took longer still for the sense of nausea and weakness to leave him.

He hadn’t tried sleeping again since.

It was difficult to say how long he had been here, like this, but he knew he was exhausted. He felt his body swaying, and held himself as carefully still as he could. The last thing he needed was to pass out and end up triggering the heat while unconscious– he wasn’t entirely sure there was an upper limit on how warm it would get, and it seemed easy enough to imagine that his captors would cook him alive.

He hadn’t seen any of them, but he assumed it was Fury, or some of his lackeys, who held him now.

That assumption held until the door at the end of the long room opened, and lights outside of his cell turned on, allowing him to see the rest of the room for the first time.

There were, as near as he could see, six such chambers. He was the lone occupant, though, which had been why his was the only one illuminated.

And the people who entered were dragging along another person– a second captive to join him. The man was clearly fighting back, and took several jabs from the electrocution batons that the guards carried, for his trouble.

He felt his stomach lurching, and stood.

“What is it you want with me? I would bargain– for food, for rest.”

He was soundly ignored, all of their attention on this new prisoner. Loki wondered if perhaps his cage had been sound proofed– that he was rendered mute, though he could hear them.

They pushed the man, bound with metal bar shaped restraints on each of his limbs and a bag over his head, into the cell across from Loki’s.

He had, in fact, a fairly clear view, which would have been of more interest if he had any reason to care. Whoever this was, whatever he had done, Loki was far more interested in their captors– and he noted, with some surprise, that they did not wear the regalia of SHIELD. They wore black plain human armor, and patches with red insignia of tentacles and skulls.

They retreated, only one of them so much as glancing in Loki’s direction before the door was closed behind them, and the greater chamber pitched back into darkness. He could see the other prisoner’s cage, though– and more importantly, could see the prisoner within.

They had locked his limbs to the floor, spread him out as much as possible– no wonder he’d fought against it. The bag remained in place, but with the way he was thrashing back and forth, Loki doubted it would stay that way for long.

And, of most interest to him, was the fact that Loki could hear the other prisoner. How he huffed and grunted as he strained against his bonds.

“Can you hear me?” He asked, pitching his voice to carry as best as he could, so long deprived of water.

The other man stropped struggling for a moment.

“Who’s there?” He demanded, his voice rough in a way that spoke of time screaming, or strangling– fresh damage, rather than Loki’s own mere neglect.

“Another prisoner in this basement.” Loki said smoothly, unwilling to identify himself, lest he have accidentally murdered this persons family, or some such thing. He would deal with the fall out his name would cause, once they were better established as needing to aid one another.

“Can you take this hood off of me?” The request was quieter, and Loki could hear in it the mental strain. He could sympathize; it must amplify the fear, not being able to see what was coming.

“We are in two separate tanks. Glass. I cannot physically reach you.”

Not a whole answer, but he had not done any overt magic yet– he’d kept his efforts to his own bodily comfort, thus far, unwilling to tempt them into cooking him again in punishment. Or worse, attempting to rob him of that power in some other way, before he could make a plan of escape.

“And they’ve got strong magnets holding me to the floor.” The man shook his head, the bag again rustling over it. “How often do they come in?”

Loki sighed, well aware it was unwise to speak thus; they were no doubt monitoring them.

“It has been days since I saw them. They do not bring food or drink. In fact, since I was captured, the only time they have opened that door is to bring you in.”

He heard the shocked intake of breath, and was surprised that it was so audible. But then, the relative silence of the rest of the room had been overwhelming, before.

“They’re starving you?” The man sounded indignant.

“It seems likely they will be starving us, given you aren’t in a position to be able to eat.” Loki pointed out, unkindness tearing out of him in rapid response to the man’s pity.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” The man shot back, and returned to his wriggling, trying to get the hood off. It was, it seemed, wedged too far down under him, though– pinched beneath his shoulderblades, which were held flat to the floor.

Loki sighed, regretting having snapped. He watched in silence for a while until the man gave up on his efforts and lay still.

“I can describe to you our cells, if you like, though there is not much to describe. Both are rounded tanks, tall and glass, with lights above and tile floors below. Mine has a small circle in the middle, which I cannot leave without being punished. Yours lacks even the visual appearance of that aspect, which is lucky for you. The room beyond is dark, but there are four more cells such as ours, only unlit. There is one door. The floor outside is concrete, the floor in the hallway beyond the door is white and glossy. The men who brought you in wear black, and their identifying marks are a red skull and tentacles–”

“HYDRA.” The man answered, resignation telling Loki that he had already known as much.

“You know them?”

“I’ve fought them before. Every time I think I’ve taken the last of them down…”

“More rise up. A hydra in practice, hence the name. Charming. And how have they captured you now?” Loki was exhausted, and it showed in his voice. How was he to fight back, to escape, against an unbeatable enemy?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was trying to help a couple of kids– I’m Captain America.” The man said next, after another long stretch, and he spoke as if embarrassed.

Understandable; he’d just admitted to being duped, bested, despite being one of Earth’s defenders. It was good after all that Loki hadn’t identified himself, then. The last thing he needed was the Captain to know that he was just one more enemy he’d failed to defeat.

“Bad luck, Captain. It seems your SHIELD won’t be saving you this time.”

The Captain went quiet again, this time with a sullen, dogged sort of refusal to speak any further.

Loki had offended him, and, at length, he realized the Captain may well have fallen asleep.

Lucky him.

Loki sat, and stared, and stood, and stretched, and sat again, waiting for something– anything– to change.

#whumptober #Loki #Steve Rogers #Captain America #MCU Loki #Stoki #Capfrost #that writing thing I do

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fandsart · 2 years

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Where the 20 Chain Links Lead

Also on Ao3: Chapter 2

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3.1] [Chapter 3.2] [Chapter 4]

Chapter 2: What Comes With Loving Nancy Wheeler

He wants to get drunk after that. God does he want to get absolutely shit–faced, to forget whatever the hell that thing was. To rinse away the regret of not having listened to Nancy when she told him she saw something when she went looking for Barbara. Doesn’t want to think about how quickly his girlfriend resorted to pointing a gun at his face.

He knows he can’t drink though. He has a girlfriend now, and he doesn’t trust himself not to wake up with another girl in his bed if he does. He’s not entirely sure what he’s like when he’s drunk, other than “good in bed,” but he’s heard that about his sober self too. He smokes a whole pack of camels that weekend. It calms his nerves a bit, but it’s in an artificial way that could never be all that effective.

It doesn’t actually help him get his mind off the events. He has the opposite problem when the week starts up again. He can’t exactly smoke at school, so he’s still on edge, even though he is able to distract himself (to an extent) with schoolwork. Plus the new developments in social ranking and the rumors that follow him no longer speaking to Tommy and Carol. The rumors are definitely made more severe when people notice how tense he is.

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He heads to his house almost immediately after. He doesn’t realize until he’s on his own doorstep that he hasn’t dropped the bat. He thinks about returning it, but the idea of putting it down right now fills him with dread. Every time he tries to talk himself into dropping it, his grip only tightens. He triple checks that all of his doors are locked.

He finds himself sitting at one of the kitchen chairs, doing nothing but clutching the nail bat when the sun comes up. He hadn’t registered how much time had passed until the sun was above the horizon and burning his eyes through the window. He decides it’s probably time that he finally heads to his room. He’s technically supposed to be in school today, but there’s no way that’s happening.

He stands up and finds himself off balance. He doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep, or related to the panic, but there aren’t any nails poking out of the end of the bat, so he uses it as a sort of stabilizer. He’s making his way through the living room when the doorbell rings. The foyer is in the next room, so he doesn’t have to keep them waiting very long. Long enough apparently.

He’s almost to the door when another sound rings, this time being pressed in rapid succession, the first note of the tune repeating several times before whoever’s at the door finally stops and the jingle continues. Steve opens the door just before the last note rings.

He finds Jim Hopper—the goddamn chief of police—on the other side. He looks like a mess and Steve vaguely wonders which of them look more like shit. Hopper doesn’t need to say anything for Steve to know why he’s there. He hadn’t previously been aware of his involvement, but being the day after the event, one look at his face informed Steve of the chief’s involvement.. He gestures to the house before Hopper can even say anything, a silent invitation to come in.

“Nancy mentioned you took a bat home with you. I didn’t realize it was gonna be filled with nails,” Hopper says. It’s not until Hopper speaks this sentence that Steve realizes how much of a fog he’s in. Sure he’d been off balance, but now he’s hearing words that are taking him three whole seconds to understand. He blinks owlishly in response before fully registering the words and he looks down at his bat. “You alright over there?” Hopper asks, despite being four feet away.

“I uh… didn’t really… get any sleep.”

“Clearly,” Hopper says. “I need to talk with you about what happened last night, but I need you to be… fully conscious. For now just don’t tell anyone about what happened. Think you can handle that?” Once he registers the sentence he gives a jerky nod. “Come down to the station as soon as you can, alright?”

“Yeah.” Hopper leaves and Steve ends up moving back to the living room instead of trying to take on the stairs, where he promptly passes out on the couch. He doesn’t sleep very deeply, waking up every half an hour, arm dropping off the couch, hand still holding the bat laying on the ground, his grip is tight even in his sleep.

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The next day he finds out that Hopper called them out of school the previous day. He’s pretty relieved to hear it. His parents had long since given up on his grades, but if they thought he was playing hooky they would rant at him for ‘tainting the family name.’

Given his reputation and what the public does know about recent events, he considers himself incredibly lucky that there aren’t any rumors of him having a threesome with Nancy and Jonathan. He doesn’t want to deal with his parents throwing him in the closet today.

Maybe those rumors would have spread if they don’t all come to school looking like absolute garbage. Instead people chalk it up to them all getting fevers the previous day. After all, they’d all been seen together. It would make sense for it to have been a simple spread illness.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

He heads over to the station after school and Hopper makes him tell him what he knows.

“We killed a monster that fell out of the ceiling. It doesn’t like fire,” is all he can say. Hopper nods before telling him that it’s good he doesn’t know any more. Steve stiffens in his seat, before demanding information. He’s used to being confused, so the fact he doesn’t know isn’t something that’s getting to him. It’s more the fact that Hopper doesn’t seem to think he deserves to know, because he does.

“You don’t understand how dangerous this stuff is,” Hopper tells him seriously.

“Like hell. I faced it with a bat.”

“Not just the monster. The knowledge that comes with it.” He then goes on to describe what ‘they’ could do to him if he starts blabbing. He tells him that he managed to cover up all of the teenagers’ involvement, and that they’d better not let him regret it, because it would be his ass on the line too.

“Is that all then?” he asks, after Hopper gives his handful of threats, secondhand and his own.

“You’re right; you do deserve to know more. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. You know what though, I can tell you what the kids have been calling the monster. It’s not something that, you know, the ‘bad people’ recognize, so it’s really the only piece of safe information I have.” Steve nods at him to continue. Hopper tells him. He forgets the name by the time he leaves the building, but that’s to be expected.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The reappearance of Will Byers is big news the next day. Bigger news than when he’d gone missing, which is saying something, because this is Hawkins and nothing ever happens here. Will’s in the newspaper and he’s all anyone is talking about. Apparently what the public is being told is that he got lost in the woods, and the body they found in the quarry was a John Doe. Steve is fairly in the dark, but he knows that’s not true.

He feels bad for the kid. Whenever he goes to Nancy’s and he sees the kid there, he has a haunted look in his eyes. He clearly went through something during his disappearance. Given what he saw the night of his return, Steve has some theories, but when he asks Nancy about it, she tells him that he doesn't want to know. Insists that it could get both of them in trouble anyway.

With… the government, he supposes? That doesn’t sit right with him, but it’s not like he can talk about it.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

It’s not long—barely a week—since he first wields the nail bat, that he smokes his first joint. He’s been practicing with his basketball hoop a lot. It helps get his mind off of it, though it takes a while to get to the point where he’s able, since his hoop is outside where Nancy claims to have seen the thing for the first time. It also helps wear him out, but he’s still barely slept despite that and he’s getting desperate. He recognizes the recommended dealer as the guy who’s always being dramatic about ‘conformity’ or whatever. Steve��s not even entirely sure what that word means.

He’s not sure how well Eddie “fuck society” Munson would respond to King Steve attempting to buy, but at least he has a bit of a safety net. Eddie won’t pull anything when he knows Steve rules the school he goes to every day. He has a bit of a safety net that he wouldn’t have with any other dealer he’d find. The worst that could happen is Eddie refusing to serve him. He meets him at a picnic table a short way into the forest.

“Well, hello there, your majesty,” Eddie says with a weak bow when Steve first walks up. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He moves to sit at the table bench while Steve remains standing.

“Your goods, I guess,” he answers. Eddie lets out a dramatic sigh.

“I suppose it was foolish of me to hope you might have just wanted to talk to me.”

“I don’t know man. Did you hope that? I can’t imagine you like me all that much.”

“I’m just messing with you,” he says, dropping the whimsical voice. “Can’t say I mind the view though.” Steve looks around.

“Yeah, it’s nice here.”

“Wow,” Eddie says, seemingly more to himself than to Steve. He’s smiling, his cheek resting in his hand, his elbow on the table. “So how can I fix you up, Harrington? Looks like you could use something if I’m honest.”

“I just… need to relax. Probably just-” he says “marijuana” at the same time Eddie asks, “Weed?”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Eddie continues. “Weed’s a pretty safe call in general.”

“If you’re trying to get me to buy something harder, don’t think calling it ‘safe’ is going to make me feel puny. I just need an outlet.”

“You think I'd try to emasculate you? I wouldn’t dare. Not without asking nicely,” he winks. “All I mean is, you won’t really have to worry about getting addicted.”

“Alright.” There’s a pause. “I’m gonna be honest. I don’t really know what I’m doing. How much I’m supposed to pay for how much makes sense to take.”

“How about this Harrington. You give me 20 bucks, and we can smoke together until you feel like you aren’t dying or whatever.”

“I don’t feel like I’m dying.”

“‘Or whatever!’”

“Yeah. Ok.” They lay side by side on the picnic table as they smoke their individual joints in silence.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he eventually finds himself being shaken awake.

“Hey, man,” he hears Eddie say. He rubs his eyes so he can see him too. “You should probably finish sleeping at home. It’s getting dark.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He doesn’t find himself needing to buy any more as often as he thought he’d be resorting to. He doesn’t know or understand a lot about biology or psychology, but it feels like his body never let go of the fear and adrenaline from the last link in that chain, and the couple joints he’d used up worked to forcibly turn those down. Steve wonders if his brain not recognizing that the danger is gone relates to his brain being unable to retain information. But what would he know about it?

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Nancy tells Steve about what Jonathan told her. About his photographic motivations. Seeing people in their element. He doesn’t at all think that makes it ok, to take pictures of people who don’t know you’re there, but he understands the appeal of candid photos. One day after his workout with the basketball team, after he’s taken a shower in the locker room, he finds Jonathan in the darkroom, developing photos.

“Dude,” Jonathan yells when Steve opens the door. “I put the ‘In Use’ sign up for a reason!” He stops as he finally sees that it’s Steve. “Oh, it’s you… Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t really know how this whole,” he gestures to everything on the tables, “thing works. I should have, I don’t know, thought when I saw that sign. I mean, knowing that I don’t know anything about this.”

“Ok,” he responds cautiously. “Why are you here?”

“Listen, you’re friends with Nancy now, and since I’m dating her I just want to make sure that we’re cool.”

“You want to… ‘make sure that we’re cool?’”

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me, but I’d like us to be on good terms.”

Jonathan sighs. “Did Nancy ask you to do this?”

“Well, no- I mean, I am doing this for Nancy’s sake. But also… I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. About your family.” Jonathan only hummed in response. “Or calling you a queer.”

Jonathan took in a sharp breath. “Yeah, that’s… I mean, besides the fact that I’m not, that wasn’t cool. I don’t think you should be using that word at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because-” Jonathan looked somewhat exasperated, like this isn’t something he should have to explain to him. He probably shouldn’t. “Some people are just gay, Steve. I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Yeah, but…” But what, he didn’t even know. He’s obviously heard literally everyone talking about how that’s a bad thing, but stuck in the position of explaining himself for following those opinions he found himself with no actual arguments. It was always sneers of ‘Those people.’ Something about a disease that honestly made them seem more sad than ‘predatory.’ He can’t imagine they’re spreading it on purpose, and maybe he's not that smart, but Byers is probably a more reliable source for this than Tommy and Carol ever were anyway.

Looking at Jonathan’s tired face made him not want to figure out what he was even trying to argue, so Jonathan wouldn’t have to deal with explaining very simple concepts to him. So he relents. “Alright man. You’re probably right.”

Jonathan nods slowly. “Alright. We’re cool.”

“As long as you’re not taking pictures of people who don’t know you’re there anymore.” Jonathan looks down guilty.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t again. Never again. But I’m not really taking pictures of anything these days. You still broke my camera, you know. We’re still cool by the way. That was a… fair response.”

“Oh… Yeah. Whose are these then?” He gestures to some of the drying photos.

“Nicole’s. She likes taking photos, but hates the development process, but I think it’s relaxing. Besides, this is really the only way I can participate in the photography club anymore.” Steve sticks around as Jonathan finishes the last few photos. Jonathan explains the process to him, and he’s right. It’s relaxing. Steve doesn’t understand how it works at all and maybe that’s why he finds it so intriguing. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was magic. It amazes him that this is how people put photos to paper.

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Most of Nancy and Steve’s dates the rest of the school year are study dates. It doesn’t start out that way. It happens after the first time they have a study date for his sake, as opposed to hers. They spend most of their waking evening going over the book he’d managed to cram in for his English class.

“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me with this?” he asks.

“Are you kidding? This way I won’t have to read the book next year. That will save me so much more time for my other classes.”

“God, I love you,” he breaths. She giggles and blushes.

The day he gets his grade back he has a D. There’s an attempt at an encouraging note in the corner of the page from his teacher saying that it would be a C if he didn’t misspell every other word on the extended response questions.

“You got a D?” Nancy chastises. “What did we spend all Thursday night studying for?”

“I almost got a C,” he defended, pointing at the note in the corner. “See? I’m… I’m trying…” The next thing he knows Nancy’s arms are wrapped around him, and he returns the hug.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“It’s ok.”

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The next time she comes over she tells him that she’s done a bunch of research on learning disabilities and teaching methods. He almost wants to yell at her that he doesn’t have a learning disability, but he decides that even if he doesn’t (a matter his father insists on) he might as well see if the teaching methods Nancy’s found work. So he relents. Though he does make sure to mention that he doesn’t have one. She seems unconvinced, but doesn’t argue.

She asks him if he ever did well in school and he asks if she ever had Mr. Clarke. She immediately knows what to do with this information. Of course she does. She’s Nancy goddamn Wheeler. She’s a genius.

She learns all of his material and they go over it with her reciting jokes and anecdotes about the topics to get him to remember it. It’s so obviously scripted, which keeps it from being as effective as it could be, but it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Steve doesn’t know where she finds the time to do all this.

“You could skip junior year at this point,” he tells her.

“Maybe, but there are some classes I want to take that you aren't taking this year anyway.”

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The longer he dates her the more he starts to understand what Tommy and Carol meant when they told him that sex and romance go together. Sure, he’s wanted to have sex before, but it was more that he was in the mood for it than it was he was entranced by another person. But here he is, absolutely smitten with the girl who almost made learning fun. Almost. It’s still absolutely exhausting.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Christmas is only a few weeks away and Nancy’s inviting him to a sort of party on Christmas Eve. He hasn’t met Nancy’s parents yet, but he’s fairly well known around town for reasons that aren’t exactly being all that great. He’d hope the knowledge that most of their dates are study dates would reassure them, but he seriously doubts they even believe that’s what they’re actually doing. So meeting them isn’t something that he’s too eager to get over with.

“Yeah, I’ve considered that.” she says when he brings up these concerns. “That’s why I think you should come to this specifically. It’s not like you’d be coming to a family dinner. Mike’s friends are all gonna be there, and so is Jonathan and one of my aunts. They won’t have nearly as much focus on you.”

“I don’t know, Nance. I would still be the only person in the room they haven’t met yet. Don’t you think that would make it kinda worse.”

“The kids will be in their own world, but they’ll be filling any silences. There’s only so much tension that could build with that. Also, my aunt hasn’t been in town in almost a year. My mom, at least, is going to be distracted catching up with her.” Steve grimaces. “Come on! You’ll have to meet them eventually. This is a one time opportunity to make the tension as slack as possible.”

He caves. “Yeah. Ok. I just… this is my first serious relationship, so meeting the parents is never something I’d needed to worry about before, and I’m kind of… out of the water… or whatever.”

“Do you mean ‘you feel like a fish out of water’ or ‘you’re kind of out of your depth?’”

“Aren’t those the same things?”

“Yeah, basically. But those are what you’re talking about right?” God Steve feels stupid right now.

“Yeah…” He needs to change the subject. “So, Jonathan’s gonna be there?”

“Yeah, he’s mostly coming because Mike invited Will and, well, you know. The Byers have had him on a bit of a leash after… everything. But he’d be welcome anyway.”

“Has he met your parents already?”

“Well, he’s Will’s brother, so yes. My parents also like to use his photography abilities for events like this. Of course he won’t be able to do that this year.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well- Steve, you broke his camera.”

“Yeah, like a month ago. He hasn’t gotten a new one by now.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he doesn’t live in a mansion Steve. Not everyone can just buy whatever they want whenever they want.” He knows that. Of course he knows that. He’s just… inexperienced in that area. It’s hard to remember. “He’s really upset, you know. It’s almost all he talks about now— that he won’t be able to afford a new one for several months.”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The next time he sees her he asks what kind of camera Jonathan had—or would want. A proud smile crosses her face, and Steve isn’t sure if she’s proud he’s ‘stepping up’ or whatever, or proud of herself for guilting him into it.

“Now, what makes you think I know anything about Jonathan’s camera preferences?” Steve blanks, and she’s right. It was an odd assumption to make. Idiot.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says sarcastically. “I was just under the impression that you were some kind of genius or something.” She laughs and blushes a bit.

“Well you’re just lucky Jonathan’s so obsessed with his craft,” she says, matching his joking tone. “Because he talks about it all the time.”

So she tells him about how Jonathan has been saving for a specific camera, but has been practically drooling over a different—more expensive—camera in a catalog that he keeps in his nightstand drawer.

Steve manages to get his hands on one of those cameras before the party. He’s never had to wrap a gift before, but he thinks he does a decent job. Nancy offers to help, but he wants to try to do it on his own. Plus he was already using her family’s wrapping paper since his doesn’t exactly keep it in stock, and he doesn’t want to buy a whole roll that will only ever get used once.

He spends way too long trying to figure out what to wear. His family always stuffs him in a dull shade of a green shirt with a matching shaded red tie, or its reverse, and black pants. Steve wants to wear something more comfortable. He picks a Christmas sweater. Nancy’s family seems like the kind of people who would go for that. He doesn’t want to go overboard with the whole ugly Christmas sweater thing, so he keeps it basic.

He gets there with the camera tucked under his coat. He fully intended on handing it to Jonathan himself, but no one else is exchanging gifts and—despite his previous conversation with Jonathan establishing them as ‘cool’— he still doesn’t feel super comfortable with the exchange. Maybe he shouldn’t have wrapped it. It’s not even really a Christmas gift as much as it is an apology- Why did he wrap it?

When he gets there he almost immediately practically drags Nancy up to her room and explains his conundrum to her. He’s vaguely aware just how bad an impression on her family. If he made it quick it wouldn’t be too bad, but they now know he’s aware where her room is, which isn’t something he’s supposed to know.

“Maybe I should just tear off the paper. That’s less weird, right?”

“What? No- you worked so hard on that.”

“Yeah, and it still looks like garbage. I’m just gonna-” He goes to tear off the paper, but Nancy stops him, putting her hands on the box.

“What if I just give it to him?” A wave of relief floods through his body, like it’s in his bloodstream.

“Oh my god, yes. Please do.”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The dinner is fairly quick and simple. Of course, Steve couldn’t expect anything too extensive for the meal the night before Christmas Day. It comes up during the meal that Mike is the one who suggested the idea to have breakfast for dinner as the meal, waffles as the main dish, but with sides of things like scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, and bacon. Apparently he’d been insistent for reasons only his friends and Nancy seem to know, but refuse to explain.

Nancy’s aunt has to leave quickly after the dinner ends, but Nancy had been right. She’s a great buffer. She’s a bit of a chatterbox, and has a lot to say about what she’s been doing with her time away from Hawkins. Her stories are engrossing and she makes getting away from Hawkins seem even more appealing than it was before. Most importantly, she keeps everyone’s attention away from him, even in his ridiculous sweater, which he regrets soon after arriving.

After dinner the kids head to the basement for some complicated nerd game, and Mrs. Wheeler starts working on some desserts for the next day. Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Mr. Wheeler settle into the living room to watch some Christmas movies. Mr. Wheeler isn’t really watching though. He’s glaring at Steve, who in turn keeps a slight distance from Nancy. Well, he’s not glaring as much as he is giving him the most judgy look Steve’s ever seen on a middle aged man.

Jonathan can apparently tell when the kids are starting to wrap up their game and heads downstairs to collect Will to take him home. Once Jonathan leaves the room, Steve slowly moves his head to look at Nancy, just now remembering about the camera Jonathan has yet to receive.

“I’ll take care of it,” Nancy tells him. So he’s left alone watching the movie, and god is he glad Mr. Wheeler is asleep by now.

Nancy comes back a minute later and immediately cuddles up to him. With her father asleep, they feel allowed, but she’s still stiff, not settling comfortably.

“Did you give it to him?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

The movie ends a half hour later, and he heads home. He doesn’t see Nancy until school starts back up.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

It’s January, and he’s sitting at Nancy’s kitchen table, since Nancy’s parents are now more aware of their relationship and don’t want them in her room anymore. Nancy had gone to take care of something for her mother and Steve was attempting to continue writing his goddamn essay, so that he can go over with Nancy once she comes back. Instead what happens is one of the middle-schoolers that are constantly running around the place comes up from the basement and decides it’s appropriate to look over his shoulder and correct his grammar.

“It’s ‘further,’ not ‘farther,’” he says.

“And you’re wearing a hat indoors,” he lazily snarks back. He doesn’t put much effort into the quality of the retort or much sting into his voice, but the kid pulls the bill down just a little bit, slowly, somewhat embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m a bit frustrated with all this,” he gestures to the page, even though what he’s really frustrated with is his own brain.

“It’s ok… I’m just up here to get some snacks. I’ll get out of your hair.” Steve’s not sure if the comment about his hair is intentional, but he’s found that his hair being ‘incredible’ is a major factor in people’s interest in him. The kid heads over to the pantry in silence and grabs an armload of various snacks. He goes to leave, but stops at the doorway before turning back to Steve.

“I have cleidocranial dysplasia,” he says. “That’s why I wear the hat.” Steve doesn’t know what that means, but he gets the feeling he crossed a line that was much closer than he’d realized.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve’s been dating Nancy for months at this point, and they’ve still never really had an actual date. They mostly just hang out and work on homework. Sometimes they have sex, but it’s a bit rare now. Nancy rarely has an empty house, and she refuses to go over to his house after everything. So Steve wants to do something special for Valentine’s Day, to make up for the lack of actual substance in their relationship. He feels like he’s dragging Nancy down with his schoolwork. He could at least give her a fun night out on the day designated to celebrate relationships.

He doesn’t take her to Enzo’s, because that’s where his parents are. Besides—while there will probably be a lot of people there for Valentine’s Day, adult or not—it isn’t really a teenager’s scene. So he takes her to the next best place. The diner date he’d been fantasizing about since he first laid eyes on her. The diner was in the same area of town as Enzo’s, but was nothing too fancy, but somewhere that isn’t too greasy. Plus he doesn’t feel like he’s flaunting his wealth by proving he can get into a place like Enzo’s on Valentine’s Day.

So they’re sitting there in the diner and Nancy looks massively uncomfortable. She’s avoiding looking at anything but the table right in front of her, be it empty, with the menu on top, or the plate in front of her, which she picks at. Nancy hasn’t said a word since they arrived, except to order.

He should have known it was a stupid idea to bring her here. Ideal dates like the one he’d been conjuring in his head probably don't actually happen in real life. People like him just fantasize about it sometimes. It's not realistic. He hoped that maybe the mood that’s set with Valentine’s day would make the idea feel less cheesy and awkward in practice.

He gulps. “Are you ok?”

“Can’t we just like… go bowling, or something?” she answers his question with a question.

“For Valentine’s Day?”

She looks somewhat ashamed of the suggestion. “No, you’re right. This… This is fine. This is great!” She’s forcing it, and he knows it. He supposes he should have known that this wouldn’t be up her alley. Headstrong and ambitious Nancy. Just some of the things he likes about her. Why would he think she would enjoy this? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. So he immediately starts scarfing down his chicken.

“Wha- gross, Steve!” she says, but she’s laughing. He got her to laugh; something he savors. He’s always loved her laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Well, we’ll want to hurry up if we want to get to the bowling alley before they tell us we won’t have enough time to play!” She immediately follows suit, and they’re both lucky neither of them choke with how much they’re giggling. At some point it becomes an unspoken competition to see who can finish first. He lets her win, pretending his laughs are more extreme than they really are to give bigger gaps between bites. By the time they flag a waiter, most of the tables are staring at them, and many sag in relief as they leave the building.

They’d had the waiter put the milkshake that had previously been left with two untouched straws, in a to-go cup, and Steve gave it to Nancy. She drank it on the way to the bowling alley. Nancy was right; bowling is much more fun and comfortable. He beats her score with almost twice as many points as her, because he’s good at this kind of thing. He has strength and precision on his side from playing basketball for the past several years.

“I still won the eating competition,” she rationalizes as he drives her back home.

“Competition?” he asks cheekily. “What competition?”

“You ass. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Ok,” he concedes. “You’re a fast eater.”

“And you started it. I had to catch up.” She’s very self satisfied, but he’s not even sure that would have made a difference in the fact he would have won had he not let her, but he lets her have it.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The school year will be over in a couple of months when Nancy first asks Steve to join her at dinner with the Hollands. She tells him she wants to show them that more people care than just them and her. He agrees.

It doesn’t actually seem to convince them that anyone else cares all that much. Steve thinks that’s fair. He just looks like a boyfriend helping his girlfriend prove a point. But Barbara was a human being, and she died, and her parents didn’t get any kind of closure or warning. Of course he cared. Plus there was the guilt surrounding the subject that clung him like wet fabric. Especially after Nancy felt the need to prove that other people do. He cares that so many people don’t.

The first dinner is a bit tense. They clearly don’t believe that he’s there for anyone’s sake but Nancy’s. And again, he can’t blame them for thinking that.

“So they throw these dinners every week?” he asks, driving Nancy home after they leave that first meal.

“Every two or three weeks. It depends on when people are available.”

“Have they been doing this since she disappeared? The whole time?”

“No. They were… distraught for a really long time. They’ve only been doing this for the past couple of months.”

“When’s the next one?”

“Are you planning on coming again?” she asks, smiling hopefully.

“Yeah. I mean, I’d have started coming before if I knew about it.”

“Steve,” she smiles. “I would have told you about it sooner if I knew you cared.” She caught herself. “Not that I thought you didn’t, but you’ve never seemed all that torn up about it.”

“I didn’t know her that well, but… she clearly cared about you. I think it’s, I don’t know, it’s just not cool that there aren’t a lot of people bothered by it. Like they did for Byers' kid brother.”

He expresses these sentiments to the Hollands at the next get together. They don’t seem bothered by his poor wording. He’s relieved about that. He didn’t want to feel like an ass about this topic.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

It’s Thursday and school lets out in a little more than two weeks. Steve knows everyone is going to get the results of their finals back the next day, and he’s nervous. Sure he’s gotten better grades this year than any other, but he didn’t have enough time to go back and review all of it. When he went to go over some of the early year stuff, he was unsurprised to find he’d forgotten almost all of it. Nancy had been studying for her finals and he wasn’t going to pull her into his problems when she was stressed for herself enough as it is.

So he reviewed it on his own and hopes it’s enough to have jogged his memory enough to pass. He has enough marks for “behavioral issues” that scoring low enough would raise a suspicion that he’d been cheating all year, and he could be held back. He’s already completed the tests. He just needs a distraction now.

He finds himself outside the darkroom. He knocks this time.

“Just a minute,” he hears Jonathan call through the door. It takes more than a minute, but he keeps his patience. When Jonathan opens the door he seems a bit surprised. “Oh, Steve. Hey. Why… What’s up?” Steve suddenly feels incredibly stupid for coming here. He doesn’t exactly know Jonathan that well. He swallows his pride.

“I’ve been a bit stressed,” he says awkwardly. Jonathan seems to understand. He smiles a bit and gestures for Steve to enter, which he does.

“Finals?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Jonathan nods. “You wanna try developing some?” He gestures to the bins of chemicals.

“I don’t really know how.”

“Yes you do. I showed you a few months ago.”

“Yeah. A few months ago.” Jonathan chuckles.

“That’s ok. I can guide you through it.” He’s a man of his word, apparently. He takes him through the first one step by step, lets Steve take over on the second as he hovers, and leaves him be entirely on the third. It makes him nervous, afraid he’ll do something wrong and not have anyone to correct him, but the image turns out fine.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your score,” Jonathan says after they’ve been silently working at their own stations for a while. “Nancy tells me she’s been helping you. I don’t know you very well, but I know she knows what she’s doing.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I’m doing.” There’s a pause.

“Thanks for the camera, by the way.” Steve’s head jerks up, eyes leaving the photo he’s working on and hitting Jonathan. “She didn’t tell me it was you, but she let it slip a little while after that she had to get Mike a pretty cheap gift because most of the allowance she’d set aside for gifts was used up on all our monster hunting gear. Wasn’t hard to figure out after that.”

“Nancy mentioned how long it was going to take for you to save up for a new one. Sometimes I forget that people can’t just buy things back. I’m trying to work on that.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be very helpful of me to suggest trying out what it’s like to be poor. So I guess that’s all I can ask for you to do.”

“Cool. I’m pretty sure Nance brought it up hoping I’d get you one, but I’m still trusting you with that camera. Don’t make me regret it.”

“No, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Nancy is probably the only reason he passes junior year. With his finals scores worsening every year prior, Steve’s pretty sure his father fully expected him to fail this year, which is quickly confirmed. They’re eating breakfast on the first day of summer.

“Did you know that Steven’s going to be a senior this year,” his mother asks his father, who turns to him.

“You passed?” he asks. Steve doesn’t know why his surprise got to him. He already knew he was a disappointment. He tries to keep the tone light, for the sake of his own emotional state.

“Well, yeah. After all the work I put in this year, I’d certainly hope so,” he laughs.

“Was all that work put into cheating?” Steve feels his smile strain.

“No.” His father raises an eyebrow, unbelieving. “Why would I cheat for Bs and Cs?” he asks, rhetorically.

“As if anyone would believe you’d get any higher.”

“I’ve gotten Bs before. Who’s to say I can’t break my record?”

“You got Bs in one class in middle school. You’re not in middle school anymore.”

“Honey,” Steve’s mother interjects, “leave it alone. Who cares how he got it? If this is what it takes to keep him from embarrassing the family, we should take it.”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

That summer, Steve’s parents break their record for how long they’re out. They go on vacations every summer, but this year they decide to be ambitious and travel to several countries in Europe. They tell Steve to plan on not seeing them for almost a month. The only emotion Steve feels is impressed. It’s quite the extended holiday they’re taking.”

He asks Nancy to come over the first day, but she declines.

“Sorry,” she says. “It’s just… last time I was at your place was the first time I saw the demogorgon, and the time before that, well…”

“No, Nance, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.” Idiot.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Vanessa shows up the first Friday they’re gone.

“It’s been a while since you learned anything new,” she says. “It’s not as important that I teach you this time around, but if you want, we can expand a bit. Give you a bigger variety to pick from when your parents are away.” He eyes her up and down.

“Last I checked you were tired of wasting your time teaching me things,” he says.

“I was tired of not getting paid for raising a whole-ass child who wasn’t even mine. I enjoyed teaching you, but that shouldn’t have been up to me. And I’d already taught you more than enough. You’re getting older now, and cooking should be about more than survival by now. Isn’t it?”

“I… yeah, I enjoy it.”

“Then let’s get started. And hey,” she pulls out a bottle of wine from her oversized purse, “let’s have some extra fun with it today.”

She shows up every Friday that his parents are gone that month. They mostly go over breakfast recipes because back when she was teaching him regularly, he already knew how to make eggs, and she didn’t feel the need to mess with that. He never complained, so he couldn’t blame her for teaching him how to make more filling meals, but he really didn’t like eggs. Not on their own. He would find himself often making simpler dinner foods for breakfast just because he didn’t want to deal with the squishy, wet egg feeling in his mouth.

She shows him how to make omelets, which are considerably more bearable than the regular eggs. She teaches him how to make a variety of pastries. He learns how to make french toast, and bagels. Bagels are surprisingly easy to make and, with them being so easy to grab on the fly, he decides that when school starts up he’s going to keep up a decent stockpile.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve mentions that he doesn’t trust anyone else with his hair—especially anyone his parents would hire to cut it—so he cuts it himself. Nancy looks impressed, and he feels his chest fill with pride. It’s obviously difficult to impress her, and he wasn’t even trying. Then she smiles.

“Can you cut my hair?” she asks, excited.

“What? Why?”

“I get my hair trimmed every year when school starts, but my mom doesn’t want me cutting it short. I cut it myself in middle school, thinking she’d pay for it to be cleaned up, but she didn’t and I just had a terrible haircut that year.” Steve always liked Nancy’s long hair. He definitely had a preference for girls with long hair; something about the way it framed them and their face. But he didn’t think it was fair that Nancy wasn’t allowed to do what she wanted with her hair. That’s the whole reason he cuts his own after all. Besides, he’d impressed her.

He gives her a bob and she loves it. She’s more affectionate that day than she’s been in a long time.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The school year starts and Steve has PE with Tommy. After he broke it off with him and Carol, they’d mostly just been avoiding each other. It wasn’t exactly difficult; they only shared their lunch period that year. For the first few days back they try not to acknowledge each other.

One day they’re playing dodge ball and they’re the only two left, on opposite teams. They’re both hesitant, and it must be obvious because Coach Miller yells at them to ‘pick it up, boys.’

So Steve chucks the ball at Tommy’s knees and Tommy’s face grows dark. Steve gets a feeling any remaining mutual respect has just been shattered entirely. The class heads to the locker room, but Gabriel S is the only one who deems it necessary to shower. Everyone else just gets changed, since the game that day wasn’t particularly taxing.

Steve’s about to leave the locker room when he hears Tommy’s voice, right behind him.

“Do you even know Carol moved to Colorado last month?” he asks, accusingly. Steve turns around to face him.

“No,” he answers, attempting to sound apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Would you fucking look at me!”

Shit- his eyes darted from where he was looking over Tommy’s shoulder, to his face. He’s snarling, and the next thing Steve knows he’s on the ground getting his face pummeled in.

He doesn’t fight back, but he still gets the closet that night.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

He hasn’t gotten the closet since his parents finally gave up on his prospects and stopped caring about his grades, back in middle school. It’s somehow worse this time. He wonders if the fact he’s so much taller has anything to do with it, but it feels as bad as it did the first time, when the closet was still being used for linens. It’s hot and he can’t breathe. He begs through the door and his father tells him to stop being dramatic.

He grips the door through the slit at the bottom, the cool air on the other side pressing against his fingers. The only thing keeping him sane.

Masterlist Chapter 3.1>>

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie slow burn #steddie slowburn #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #writing #my writing #fanfiction #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #dissociation #abuse #20 chain links #fandsart

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moon3thereal · 3 years

Note

I have a request with Nat x reader. It’s a party at the compound and nobody has ever seen Nat drunk but this night she was completely gone like blackout drunk. So you end up having to carry her to her room and take care of her but she accidentally admits her love for you, you end up sleeping on the armchair in the room and in the morning you wake up to a Nat that’s throwing up on the floor, at first she don’t remember shit but later during the day she remembered what she said and gets really flustered and embarrassed but it ends I fluff reader admits her love for Nat to

Title: Drunken Confessions

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request! happy reading <3

1.4k

Everyone knew Tony Stark loved the glamour of his extravagant parties often threw in the Avengers tower. Everyone also knew that while everyone else got batshit drunk, the black widow never got even slightly tipsy after several rounds of drinking games when everyone else was drunk enough to strip to their undergarments and start pole dancing. She always only watched with a hint of amusement glinting in her emerald eyes

That led to the bet going on amongst the other Avengers, Tony threw in a solid 500 dollars to whoever got Natasha drunk while the others put in smaller amounts. Thor had been lurking around with a smug grin for a whole 5 minutes since the party had started, you had no doubt that he’d been up to no good and opted not to touch the alcohol at the bar for tonight.

Spotting a certain redhead, you sidled up to the bar in your new dress that you definitely haven’t bought to impress her and new heels that again, you definitely didn’t buy to awe her. “Someone put in effort for tonight’s party” Natasha said, dropping her gaze to your heels and all the way up until she met your eyes “trying to impress someone?” she winked teasingly. Damn it, were you that obvious “Steve maybe?” she pressed, seating yourself on one of the rotatable, red leather stools you laughed “I don’t swing that way”

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement “me neither” she said. You turned to look at her so quickly that you thought you may have given yourself whiplash “Then…You and Bruce?” you asked cautiously “there’s a reason that didn’t work out” she said, taking a sip of her martini and sending her glass a peculiar look “you’re new?” she asked the bartender “no ma’am I’ve been working here for three years” Natasha’s lips formed into a silent ‘oh’ and you stifled a laugh

After a few more glasses of alcohol, Natasha was clearly very drunk, the rest of the avengers who hadn’t seen Thor’s expression of obvious smugness had drunk the alcohol unknowingly too and Tony and Steve were challenging each other to a dance off. In their boxers. You watched with amusement and second-hand embarrassment. Meanwhile, the Russian that was the heart of all this chaos was standing across the room apparently having an argument with Clint about whether the walls are green or red. The walls are white. Then it suddenly clicked in your mind, the only alcohol that could get her so shockingly drunk, Asgardian liquor

Of course, why hadn’t you thought about it before. Thor was incredibly competitive even if he didn’t look it. You continued sitting aside from all the havoc erupting on the party floor taking tentative sips from the water you’d brought, keeping an eye on Natasha before she does something stupid. Normally that was her job, unbeknownst to you, Natasha always looked out for you during Tony’s parties, knowing your alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly high.

Glancing at the clock, you could see that it was almost 3 in the morning and the noises had died down and all the Avengers were splayed out on the couch only half awake, Natasha was half laid half seated on two bar stools barely keeping herself upright. Deciding that you really didn’t want her to fall off and give herself a concussion, you tugged at her sleeve “come on Nat, we’re going back to your bedroom” she smirked at you with her painted lips which were normally perfect but tonight, they were slightly smudged, you liked the look on her though

“Bedroom? Getting frisky already y/l/n?” you raised your eyebrows while helping her off the chair and draping your jacket around her shoulders “getting concerned about how drunk you are” you corrected. Natasha hummed and after a few steps let her head slump onto your shoulder, you were half supporting and half carrying her but you were glad she wasn’t sober right now because your heart was probably going a million miles a minute, her hair smelt so nice, her tresses were gently tickling your neck

Caught up in your thoughts you had to abruptly steer Natasha towards her bedroom before she walked directly into a wall. Practically dumping her onto the bed with a huff from the exertion of dragging her all the way back to her room, you pulled off her heels and hung up the jacket “I love y/n, don’t you think she’s just so pretty, she’s so smart too and how she fights, it’s soooo hot” she slurred and your cheeks heated up.

You were ready to dismiss it as a hallucination, you had feelings for the redhead, you’d been harboring them for a good 2 months because you thought they’d never be reciprocated. But Natasha turned to you “do you think she likes me too?” she asked “yeah, yeah I’m sure she does” you whispered. Natasha seemed to hear it, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes close. Making your way out of the room, you heard her say “stay” it was barely a whisper but you heard it and you could never refuse her

So you slumped onto her chair with your chin supported by the heel of your hand just appreciating how gorgeous she looked even blackout drunk, ginger hair all over the place and smudged makeup. It sounded creepy but you were really just taking the advantage of being able to stare at her now before she’s sober again tomorrow and your act of indifference had to come up again.

You didn’t know at what point you fell asleep but you woke up to Natasha rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. Hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail, you rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She glanced up at you when she was done and flushed the toilet “why are you here?” she asked while rinsing her mouth in the sink and holding a hand to her head while wincing. You tried to hide your disappointment, last night it was the alcohol speaking, not her, it didn’t even make sense that she would remember it, really. “you couldn’t stay on your feet on your own, let alone walk back to your room, I wanted to make sure you were okay so I slept in that armchair” you gestured to the armchair at the corner of her room

“You didn’t have to do that” she said “but I’m glad you did, thank you” sending you a tired smile. You squeezed her shoulder “I’m gonna go make some breakfast you want some?” you asked at her doorway “please” she said while removing the makeup from the night before. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen

Once you step foot in the kitchen, you saw Thor with a triumphant smile on his face and the rest of the Avengers grumbling, you slapped a 50 dollar note on the table, shaking your head amusedly as you passed by. Thor’s grin widened further as he stuffed the money into his pocket. There were pancakes in the pan, courtesy of Wanda most probably. You put two each on separate plates, slathering Nutella on yours and drizzling syrup on Natasha’s. you made some coffee and poured out two mugs

When you came back to the table, Natasha was already seated wearing a hoodie, one of yours you realized with a skip of your heartbeat, and sweatpants. Setting the plate and mug of coffee in front of her, you took a seat and dug in.

It was only in the afternoon when you and Natasha were working on reports that her cheeks suddenly went pink and she stared at you with an expression of mortification. You frowned at her sudden distress and walked over to her “what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “last night, what I said, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t, I mean, I do feel that way, but if you don’t it’s completely understandable and I-” you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, the feeling of her lips against yours was heavenly, they were soft and tasted like her vanilla and cherry chapstick.

“I love you too” you whispered slightly dazed from the fact that you’d just kissed Natasha and that she hadn’t pulled away “show me how much” she said and kissed you again.

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley

#natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #natasha fluff #natasha x y/n #black widow x reader #black widow fluff

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lovelybarnes · 3 years

Text

restless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and steve rogers warnings: mentions of nightmares and clingy bucky but it’s mostly fluff about: bucky can’t sleep without y/n a/n: i was going to post this yesterday but i fell asleep :| my computer was literally open and nearly dead when i woke up lmao

today marks one week that you’ve been gone, and with it, the official shortest amount of sleep that bucky has gotten in a week. he supposes it’s sightly pathetic that he can’t sleep well- or, really, at all- without you, but you continuously tell him you chase his nightmares away for him, and without you there to make them disappear, where else will they go but deep into the crevices of his mind, where they’ll hide long enough for him to let his guard down and lull himself to sleep, only to wake up with the ugly memories of things he hoped he’d forgotten. he’s constantly told that his attachment to you is overbearing- not by you, though. never by you- because it must be, with how much he clings to your side, always touching some part of you so that he’s sure that, yes, you’re there. not a dream or an illusion, although you’re good enough to be one.

he misses every part of you; your fingers and the way they run through his hair, trace his features with such tenderness he nearly believes he is what you see, your voice and its ability to transform the most mundane words into the greatest poetry, sing soft songs into his skin until he’s fallen asleep, your eyes and how they examine him in the best way possible, glowing when they meet his.

he longs for you, but he can only imagine your smile, the bitter reminder that you’re probably showing it to some psychopath for the mission you’re on. he hates steve every time the memory is evoked, the panic that comes with your being used as bait for some of the most screwed up villains in the world only returning stronger. he’s tempted to go get you himself, uncaring if he screws up the mission because at least he’ll have you.

stark will call him pathetic, then go to bed with the love of his life, so bucky prefers keeping his thoughts about you to himself, much like he’d like to keep you. you’ve told him you can handle yourself, and bucky never doubts it, having been victim to the using of your skills when he first encountered you as the winter soldier. you kicked his ass then, and you kick any and all ass now.

it doesn’t help his sleeping schedule, though your calls do. he swears you’re an angel because there’s no way a normal human could glow like that through a screen, but you always laugh off his words and simply tell him to turn his brightness down. however, you haven’t taught him that yet, so he greets you with the same sentence every time. his smile is always brighter after your calls, the dark bruises under his eyes reduced as if he got a full night’s rest. it’s your effect on him, and as much as everyone teases you both for it, they appreciate it.

you’re due to come back in a week or two, but bucky is unsure he can wait that long, and judging from your chirpier-than-usual voice in your latest interaction, you’ve finished early, like you always do. he likes to imagine it’s because of him, behind the deprecating voice that screams at him why would it be? (the answer is that you love him and hate every second you’re away from him)

sam scoffs when he overhears him telling that to steve, sitting down next to bucky, “man, there is no way you can tell that from a phone call. even if you could, i know she’s good, but to shave two weeks off mission time? natasha hasn’t even been able to do that.” a proud smile grows on bucky’s face without his permission as he shrugs, “she’s that good,” he brags, choosing to ignore the fake gag sam sends his way.

you frown when he tells you what he thinks on your call a few hours later, lips puckering into a small pout, “how did you know? i wanted it to be a surprise!” you ask through a crackled voice. so much for state of the art technology, bucky thinks, but is glad nonetheless to hear your voice. “i know you too well, doll. you’re really coming back today?”

you nod excitedly, biting your bottom lip. “mhm! i missed you and my bed too much to stay here a moment longer. villains are such pervs,” you complain, nose scrunching. bucky’s jaw sets when he hears your words, immediately thinking the worst. “but, i’m coming back today, so it’s fine. what do you want to do when i get back?”

bucky shrugs, “be with you,” he answers simply, making you laugh. “other than that, dummy. we could watch a movie, have a little date night to make up for the one i missed while i was gone.” bucky grins at this, remembering his plans for that night. “okay,” he agrees, “we’ll watch one of those movies on my list. although sam put some weird ones.”

you concur through chuckles that pass through the phone, reminding him how much you love him. he swears an oath to never let you go again and bites back a yawn that you see right through. “you’re sleeping the moment i get back,” you instruct, and bucky nods with your words, even when the sole idea of your being within arm’s reach is obviously too enticing to pass up for sleep. “whatever you want, doll. as long as you’re here.” he replies, thinking about spending the night pressing kisses to your hair and checking for any injuries you may have withheld from him.

the sentence is dishonest and you both know it, but you leave it at that, missing him too much and sure he’ll rest with how exhausted he must be. you say goodbye without the actual words, only giving a blown kiss and a “see you later.”

bucky spends the rest of the hours without you thinking of you, skimming through the words written in the little blue notebook you got him to replace his old one. that one sits on his dresser, the disuse proven by the layer of dust that covers it. the names he spent hours agonizing over, tracing his fingers over the indents made by the pen, are hidden by its cover. they never fade from his mind, though. only half of the pages of the one you gave him are blank now, and the ones that aren’t are bright and white, inviting him to drop his pen on the lines and jot whatever reference he didn’t understand but wants to. he eyes the names of the movies and shows, some accompanied by quotes that refer to them. “new girl: nick miller,” he reads, remembering how one of your friends said he was the avenger version of the character. “friends: ‘joey doesn’t share food,” sam told him that one when he didn’t let him have any of his chips. he looks at clueless, recalling the way all of his teammates stare at scott whenever the movie comes up. there are a couple pages like this, some of them recommendations and others titles he kept hearing. tonight, he decides on starting a new show, but he leaves the actual show up to you to decide.

you arrive a couple hours later, when stars have littered the darkness that bled through the sky. it’s all very rom-com-filmesque, the way you light up when you see his face- even through how tired you clearly are- and how you jump into his arms, ignoring the ache in your muscles because the way his arms wrap around you seems to make it disappear. he gathers you in his arms and kisses everywhere on your face, treasuring your laugh and the feeling of your lips pressing to his shoulder when you hug him again.

even when you pull away, he doesn’t let go of your hand, flesh fingers tracing small circles into your skin. you don’t complain, even when steve shoves papers in front of you and asks you to sign them with a sheepish look. sam comes by and teases bucky lightheartedly, hounding bucky to let you have both your hands. you chuckle at his request and squeeze bucky’s fingers, kissing the back of his hand, “oh, no, he better not,” you half-joke. he smiles, red tinting his cheeks as he gently draws you closer.

you don’t feel like driving at the moment, and you need to water your plants, completely sure that wanda forgot to do it, so you end up going to your room, even though you spend most of your time at his own room or your apartment outside the compound. you can tell how little the room has been used by the spotless counters and floors, furniture clean of any of the knickknacks you usually leave. you only sleep here when bucky leaves for long missions, his absence is overly blatant when he’s gone, and your plants keep you from feeling too alone.

you usher bucky inside, tugging open your drawers to search for something for him to wear. you grin at the soft fabric under the pads of your fingertips, recalling the memory of stealing them from bucky’s closet to soak in his scent when you couldn’t have the real thing. the considerable use has washed away all traces of him, and you decide that needs to be fixed, picking out clothing for him.

you change into one of his old shirts and make tea while he changes, smiling when you feel his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your jaw. “what do you want to watch tonight?” he asks, and you contemplate it while you pour your drinks, shoveling spoons of sugar into each one to make it as sweet as possible- his favorite. “new girl, i think you’ll like it,” you reply after a moment.

he unravels his arms from around you, taking the mugs from the counter and following you to your room after you peck his cheek in thanks. “okay, i want to see what this nick miller is all about,” bucky says, making you laugh softly. “c’mon,” he urges, opening his arms for you after setting the cups down. you cuddle up to his side after you grab your computer, setting up netflix and choosing the show.

halfway through the first episode, bucky feels the fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks, hours of missed sleep catching up to him now that he’s finally relaxed and comfortable. keeping his eyes open is a job all on its own, and the sweet smell of your hair combined with the way your fingers move on his chest, softly writing letters and drawing shapes, is too much to resist.

you barely notice when he shuts his eyes, the evening of his breathing alerting you he’s succumbed to his tiredness. you stop the video and quietly shut your laptop, placing it on the bedside table while moving as little as possible. he feels you shift through your efforts, pulling you closer in his sleep. you chase away his nightmares like you always do, letting him sleep his first full night since you left.

he wakes up rejuvenated and embarrassed, sputtering out embarrassed apologies that you shush with kind reassurances and tender kisses. he’s reminded of how wonderful you are when you turn, arms extending to reach into your bag and carrying out a small stuffed animal that you say reminded you of him.

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mviswidow · 3 years

Text

wanda’s ride

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT!! porn w plot, thigh riding, a whole lot of teasing, bottom! wanda

Prompt: I was thinking maybe you could do something where wanda is flirting with natasha and other team members and fem! reader gets jealous and decides to... you know "punish" her

Summary: Wanda tries provoking R to get her to fuck her, but it lands her in trouble. A/N: there’s a bit of Sharon slander but pls forgive me, i love her. this is also kind of slow paced, but i wouldn’t say it’s slow paced in a bad way?

Your eyes settled on Wanda talking to flirting with Natasha for probably the hundredth time that night. You knew she was doing it to get a rise out of you, especially since she kept looking at you while she was doing it, leaning closer to Nat as she laughed at whatever she said, putting her hand on her arm to hold herself up.

A few minutes later Wanda came and sat beside you where you were listening to and occasionally participating in the discussion Bucky was having with Maria about weapons or something. To be fair, you were only half paying attention because of how distracting Wanda was being.

Your thighs were pressed against hers in the lounge chair so you could both fit, and your arm ended up around her shoulder. You placed a kiss on her bare collarbone, enjoying the skin you got to see in her off-the-shoulder dress, “Behave yourself,” You warned, placing another kiss at her sweet spot before biting the skin there softly.

Wanda took your hand that wasn't around her shoulders in her own and placed it on her thighs, her hand over yours.

You chuckled and shook your head, “Always so horny, aren’t we, darling?” You said in a low voice, not wanting Bucky or Maria to hear, even though they weren’t paying attention to the two of you anyway, too caught up in their conversation.

Wanda said nothing, but just nodded as you squeezed her thigh and smirked at her flushed face. She’d begged you to just tell Tony that one of you was feeling sick so you didn’t have to go to the party and you could fuck her into the next day. Her goal was to provoke you enough to get you to leave and take her with you and you knew it, but you had much more self control than she did.

You moved your thumb back and forth on the inside of her thigh for a few minutes, listening to Bucky and Maria, sometimes jumping in on the conversation, and other times nudging Wanda for her to say something.

She wasn’t listening so most of the time she just agreed with whatever she’d heard last. She was trying to think of something that would push you over the edge and get you to drag her out of the room.

Eventually, Steve came over to talk to Bucky and Tony had called you over, so the two of you had separated again.

Wanda was growing frustrated because no matter what she did, you would just smirk at her or stare stone faced. She was really horny after working herself up, thinking of all the ways you would ruin her. There was probably an hour left of the party when she got an idea, hoping that it would work.

Finally, your expression changed when she walked over to Sharon, starting up a conversation. She knew how you weren’t particularly fond of her. You didn’t hate her, but you hated the way she would look at Wanda sometimes when she happened to be in the training room while the two of you were training. And you despised the way her eyes flicked to Wanda’s cleavage when she got closer to her. Your eyebrows shot up when you saw Wanda put her hands on Sharon’s waist, and Sharon looked like she was thanking Wanda, so you assumed your girlfriend had complimented her, but you were having none of it when you were worried Sharon would put her hands on Wanda.

“For fucks sake,” You muttered, excusing yourself from Tony and Natasha, which made them laugh when they saw what Wanda was doing to get you riled up, before going over to where she was standing with Sharon beside the bar, your heels clicking on the floor.

Wanda backed up when she heard you getting closer, and when you put an arm around her waist before kissing her temple, she smiled at you, “Hi, sweetheart.”

You hummed in response before turning to Sharon, greeting her quickly to get the niceties out of the way, nodding at her half smile. “Do you still not feel well, my love? I finally convinced Tony to let us back to our room now that things have died down.”

You almost smirked at the excited look in Wanda’s eyes, but you just moved your arm further down her waist, letting it rest right above her ass while you both said goodbye to Sharon and made your way to the elevator.

You took her hand in yours, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and walked inside, clicking the button to your floor.

Neither of you spoke and the tension was thick, but you just stood there leaning against the wall, playing with the rings on Wanda’s fingers, thinking of all the things you could do to her, knowing she was reading your mind.

Her breathing had become irregular and her face was red, her lips slightly parted, and you noticed her thighs pressed together when you thought of ramming into her with her favorite strap-on.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You smiled and let Wanda leave first, opting to slap her on the ass playfully, which made her giggle, as you made your way into the kitchen and took a banana from the fruit bowl, peeling it and taking a bite of it as you watched Wanda shift uncomfortably on the barstool.

“What are you doing?” You asked after you swallowed your first bite.

A look of confusion played on her features and she tilted her head, “Nothing, I’m just waiting for you.”

“Go get changed for bed, just panties and a t-shirt. When you’re done I want you to come back in here and have a snack. Once you’ve done that you can come back to our room,” You instructed and watched Wanda get up and walk to your room as fast as her feet could carry her without breaking out into a run, which made you chuckle.

On your way to the room you shared with Wanda, she was passing you in the hallway, and you gave her a little smile. She looked so soft, her makeup had been wiped away and her wavy hair was resting over her shoulders, the hem of her shirt just covering her bottom.

You almost stopped her, wanting to kiss her, but you refrained from distracting yourself and her, knowing that she would try to eat quickly and you didn’t want her to make herself sick or anything.

Once in your room, you changed out of your clothes from the party and put on underwear, a pair of sleep shorts, and a tank top that you often wore to bed. You wiped away your makeup and fixed your hair so it would stay out of your face before picking up the book you’d been reading from your nightstand and going from where you were.

After a few short minutes, you heard the door open, but you didn’t look up until you’d reached the bottom of the page you were on, noticing that Wanda was still standing at the door, looking unsure of what to do.

“Do you need something?” You asked innocently with a cocked eyebrow.

“I just thought we were - you know, that you would-”

“Spit it out, baby,” You interrupted.

She looked flustered and you had half the mind to laugh at her, “I thought you were going to punish me.”

You nodded and looked back to your book, “I will.”

She chuckled and finally closed the door, walking up to the bed and sitting on her knees in front of you, clearly wanting your attention. “Are you just going to make me wait?”

“I’ll leave you untouched for a week if you’re going to be a brat about it,” You challenged, looking up at her.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized immediately, panic in her eyes. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

You smiled, pleased at her response, and leaned up to kiss her. She tried to work you up, doing the little things she knew you loved, and you teased her back just as much, biting her bottom lip, brushing your tongue with hers. You squeezed her lower lip between your lips as you pulled away from her, making her smile.

“So are we-”

“If you want to get off right now, the only way you’ll be doing it is on my thigh,” You deadpanned, looking back down at your book and moving your thigh closer to her.

“What, while you just sit there and read?” She scoffed.

You sighed, feigning annoyance, “Would you rather I get the strap out and make you cockwarm until I finish my book? I have around 100 pages left, you’d be there for quite a while, my love, just dripping onto my lap.”

Wanda shook her head, as much as she loved cockwarming for you, “I need to cum, babe, please. If I ride your thigh will you let me?”

“Probably,” You shrugged. “Take your panties off before you get on,” You said, tapping your thigh before you flipped the page of your book. You were only half paying attention, it was really hard to read while your girlfriend was ready to beg you to fuck her, but you knew how much she absolutely hated the lack of attention you were giving her, so you considered it worth it.

You felt her weight leave the bed for a second, and she hurried to get her panties off before getting back on and carefully straddling your thigh that had been waiting for her and placing one of her hands on your shoulder and the other on the bed next to your leg.

You bit the inside of your lip when you felt the wetness from her cunt on your skin, she was dripping and you were itching to comment on it, but stayed silent until you heard her sigh, relieved that she could finally get what she needed, whether you planned on helping her or not, “Oh, I wouldn’t get too excited yet, princess, I can’t make it too easy for you, now can I?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You opted to ignore her attitude, “By the end of the night, your ass is going to be nine different shades of red after that little stunt you pulled tonight. We’re only getting started with this.” You said, and you couldn’t resist looking at her, an exasperated look on her face.

“You’re cruel,” She whined.

You hummed in agreement and slapped her ass with your hand, which made her hips jerk forwards, “Move.”

You didn’t have to tell her twice. She immediately started moving her hips back and forth, spreading her wetness on you. You felt her fingernails dig into your shoulder blade and it wasn’t long before soft sighs were escaping her mouth, “What, does that feel good, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” She nodded, closing her eyes, and finally moaned. Quietly, yes, but it was your favorite thing to hear, so you didn’t care.

“Good,” You smiled and flipped your book onto yourself before taking the hand that was on your shoulder and removing the rings on her fingers off, seeing that she’d forgotten to do that in the haste of getting herself ready for you, which made you chuckle. You reached over and dropped them on the nightstand, hearing them clink together as they landed on the wood. “Now, hands off, princess, behind your back or on your thighs, your pick.”

She nodded, too turned on to protest, and put her hands behind her back, never stopping the movement of her hips. That didn’t last long though, and she only kept her hands behind her back before they fell to her thighs, gripping the bottom of her shirt and bunching it up, which gave you the most beautiful view of her clit bumping against your skin.

You noticed her pace had quickened, and you put a hand on her waist, “Slower.” You flipped your book back up to read, but you weren’t paying very much attention, it was merely for theatrics.

You kept one hand at her waist, since she was having trouble keeping the rocking of her hips slow, this was her punishment, you couldn’t make it too easy for her. You almost felt bad for her with how incredibly slow you had her going. Almost. Both of you knew she wasn’t going to cum like this, but you’d give her what she wanted eventually. The only sounds in the room were her whines and quiet grunts, and her head was down, chin almost touching her chest.

After a minute of her grinding slowly, you let her move her hips faster, you didn’t want to tire her out too quickly. Once she was going at a steady momentum, you removed your hand from her waist and smiled when she kept going at the same speed, “Look at that, who knew my best girl could be so independent?”

Wanda’s head lifted so she could glare at you, but you just smiled at her proudly and went back to your book, but you jerked your leg up while she was rocking forward, making her moan from the pressure on her clit.

“You can go faster now,” you mumbled, turning the page of your book, smiling when you got to the exact page you’d been waiting to find.

She moaned and complied, her pussy practically begging for release. You smirked as you felt her juices dribble down your thigh, “Look at that, Wands, you’re making such a mess.”

You put your finger in between the pages and shut your book, using your other hand to wipe upwards, collecting her wetness on your fingers and bringing it to your mouth, moaning when you tasted her on your tongue. God, you couldn’t wait to devour her later. Wanda whimpered at the sound of your moan and her hips started to move a little faster, and you let her.

“Hey, baby?” You hummed, wanting her attention on you.

Her eyes opened, and she looked at you, hoping that you would finally tell her you would take care of her, or that she’d been so good for you and now she could finally have what she wanted, but you said none of that. You simply turned your book towards her, pointing at a paragraph at the top of one of the pages, “Can you read this page out loud for me?”

Wanda grunted, tired, horny, annoyed, and frustrated, but took the book in her hands, moaning when she read the first two sentences in her head. You were making her read a lesbian fucking sex scene and she had never hated or loved you more.

You smirked at her as she tried to read coherently, but she was almost done, “Kate’s tongue licked a stripe up - fuck- up Alice’s center and flicked her tongue against her clit.” Wanda let out a whine and her pleading eyes met yours.

“Give me two more sentences, darling. I’ll let you fuck yourself on my thigh when you’re done, I promise,” You nodded, urging her on.

Her shaky voice continued, and you could tell she was struggling to focus, “God, Alice pulled a pillow over her face to muffle her moans, but as soon as she did, Kate pulled back, bit at her thigh. ‘Let me see,’ she- she murmured. fuck- ‘Please.’” She moaned once more and you took the book from her, tossing it to the nightstand.

“Fucking, finally,” Wanda groaned, as you sat up straighter.

Her hands surged forward and she pulled you towards her, not being able to stop herself from kissing you feverishly. You kissed her back, but not for long. You turned her head with your hand a little and started kissing down her jaw to reach her neck before starting to suck at her neck with the intention of marking her.

“Babe, fuck, don’t do that, they’ll see tomorrow,” Wanda moaned, but it didn’t seem like she cared that much, because she brought a hand up to grip your hair and her hips were moving faster.

“Good, I want them to. Maybe that bitch will learn to stay away from you then, hm? Or did you forget what got you into this? You don’t exactly have the grounds to tell me what to do right now, my love,” You smirked and nipped at the skin besides the hickey you just made.

Wanda’s hips jerked forward and her grip on your hair tightened, almost painfully, “Please,” She whimpered.

Your thigh was coated in her juices and the slickness was making it harder for her to get any friction on her clit.

“Do you want some help, princess? Is that it?” You teased, already starting to suck a new hickey above her collarbone.

She whined, “Yes, please.”

“Say it, I want to hear you say it,” You mumbled against her sweaty skin.

“Let me get off on your thigh while you play with my clit, god- please,” Wanda’s head dropped to your shoulder, but her action was short lived, because you detached your mouth from her neck, tilted her face up, and brought your thumb up to her mouth.

She parted her lips and sucked in your thumb, swirling her tongue around it and getting it wet with her spit, not that it would need to be already wet once it got down there.

You kissed her shoulder and tapped the side of her face with your other fingers, signaling for her to open her mouth.

You brought your thumb down to her clit and started rubbing slow circles, and she reacted immediately, moaning loudly and whining something in Sokovian.

You increased your pace and her hips sped up, knowing that she was close because she only started speaking in Sokovian in bed when she was going to come. She was moving almost erratically, and all she could do was babble in her mother tongue and moan at your ministrations.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted to see what I would do when I got mad, yes? You wanted me to make a mess of you? I think I’ve done just that, darling, I’ve reduced you to just moans and babbles.”

She nodded frantically and bucked her hips on your thigh. You kissed her and swallowed some of her moans, and at this point you were probably dripping onto the bed, too.

“‘M close, please,” She begged, needing release after being teased relentlessly.

“Take your shirt off,” You instructed, and she did immediately.

You took a nipple in your mouth, switching between biting it gently and swirling your tongue around it, and you used the hand that you weren’t using to rub at Wanda’s clit to tease the other nipple in your hand, making her back arch, almost dramatically.

She cursed in Sokovian and groaned, her movements jerky and you could tell how tired she was, “Please, ‘m gonna cum, babe, please-”

You lifted your head up from her nipple, but continued gently pulling at the other in between your fingers. Your noses brushed together as you kissed her again, before pulling back, “Go on, come for me, show me that you can follow instructions so this doesn’t have to happen again.”

Wanda moaned and her back arched, your thumb continuing to work at her clit until the tenseness in her body snapped and she let out a strangled cry as she came on your thigh.

You were quick to leave her nipple and put your arm behind her, supporting her weight as her hips slowed, and you kept working at her clit slowly until her hips stopped completely and her body was relaxed.

She was panting heavily and her head had rested on your shoulder. You chuckled airily and kissed the side of her face, “You did so well, pretty girl, I’m so proud of you.”

Wanda smiled at your praises and mumbled out a ‘thank you’.

You knew you had to give her a break before going at it again, so you let her slump against you as your fingers danced along her spine and you continue to whisper praises in her ear.

Once she’d calmed down she pushed herself off of you and tried to settle into bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, a single eyebrow raised.

“I’m sleepy,” She said simply and looked up at you.

You tutted and shook your head, “Oh, no, baby. I was serious, I’m not done with you. Your ass is going to be real tender tomorrow morning.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff smut #lesbian smut #fxf smut #thigh riding #bottom!wanda

2K notes · View notes

thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

OUR GIRL.

Summary || Mob leaders Steve and Bucky are closer then what people think and they don't like when people stare at their girl, especially a meeting in their own home.

Warning/content || Bucky and Steve, poly relationship, fluff, implied smut, mob au, mafia au

Paring || Bucky x reader x Steve

It's always assumed to be rumors.

That Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, the men who own the most notorious and gruesome mafia are in fact more then just business partners. Just the thought alone of two powerful, equally dangerous men, would never work. Too strong willed and determined, one always wanting more power, asserting dominance but that wasn't the case.

Steve and Bucky had loved each other since they were kids - best friends since birth, Steve's father took care of the business, pretty much owned the whole state of New York City and even currently after his death, Steve has managed to keep it that way. And just like his father, a Barnes being his right hand man, but it was much more then that.

Then they met you, a sweet girl, filled with laugher and happiness, something they have been desperately been needing in their life. Where they work too long, you're there to remind them they're human, to eat, to sleep. When they're enraged, about to act of feelings, you're there to remind them it's only temporary, it will pass.

Business is good as ever but now instead of the drug trade, stealing and laundrying, they have decided to start a business - the goal to be one hundred percent legitimate by two years but of course some things always get in the way.

Like the fact no one can seem to do their job and their employees always seem to have sticky fingers. A huge financial loss, one that can set their planalmost a whole year behind.

Bucky sits up straight, shoulder to shoulder with Steve as he flips the data sheet over with equally displeased scowls. Bucky's the first one to look up, steel blue eyes darkening as long table of men nearly shake. "How did this happen? When we hired all fifteen of you, it was to make sure we don't loose any fucking money."

"Sorry sir, we just assumed -."

"Shut up." Steve huffs as he brings his hand up to rub his beard, leaning into the table with an elbow. "You're going to get that money back or else, I'm not paying with you fucking idiots no more. It's my money, you lost it, you go find it."

A calloused but soft hand reaches into Steve's light hair, he lets out an a hum of acknowledgment and leans into Bucky's touch. The men around them freeze but they don't seem to care; agreeing to not hide it anymore.

Bucky's concerned eyes leave the sight of his boyfriend but narrows at the wide eyed men. "Is there a problem?"

"N-No, not at all sir."

"Good." Steve claps his hands, "Tell us exactly what happened last night, not one detail left out."

Meanwhile the sun shins brightly through the slits of white curtains, adorming and glistening from the lotion on your skin. The white searing light makes you wince, claiming it's too bright, unknown that no one is listening.

"Steve, stop opening the curtains, close them!" He's always the first one up, opens all the curtains in hopes that you and Bucky will take up; you never do. There's no answer, squeezing your eyes in annoyance as you reach over to tap Bucky, he'd close them even though he wasn't much of a morning person like yourself.

"Buck -." But no one is there, the bed incredibly cold, depsite the size of the bed, it feels so small without them.

You hiss at the contact between the cold, morning floor and your feet through the bedroom and into the hall, where you found yourself jumping from area to area rug in the ridiculously long hall way.

Decending the stairs and heading right towards the direction of their home office, it had to be something work related to pull your boys away, if they left they would have woken you up to tell you.

The moment you open the large, double doors you're greeted with seventeen pairs of eyes, two pairs being got of your boyfriend's. Clearly displeased with the intrusion.

To start, they try to keep you away from the business as much a possible, sparing any details and keeping it short. You're aware of who b they are, what they do but they're trying to change.

You're completely oblivious to the fact that you stand just and only a thin white shirt, no doubt Bucky's from the night before and a very small pair of cheeky black underwear, which showed through the translucent white.

“Pretty girl, go back up stairs ya?” Steve bites his inner cheek. The crowd does a double take, eyes widening as they realize his words - were you his too?

"We'll be up in twenty minutes, keep the bed warm. Put some pants on." Bucky's words confirm it - you're both of theirs.

In an instant your cheeks are on fire, flushing at the realization you're pretty much naked. Frozen in embarrassment.

Bucky and Steve's eyes along the crowd of men, daring any of them too look again but no one has a death wish today.

“I was hungry, I’m sorry I didn’t know you had a meeting, was wondering where you went." Bucky reaches over, pressing his lips into your hand, mumbling against it. "Wait it the kitchen for us - won't be long and put some freaking pants on."

The moment you leave, Steve clears his throat. "Get me my money back, I don't care what you have to do. And bring that jerk-off to me, teach him something about stealing money."

"Are we understood?" Bucky adds. "Now go, we have other business to attend to."

You don't miss the way the men tip their hats to you, respectfully and not for too long as the exit the house. A gentle hand cups your hip, chest pressing against your back to sandwich you between them and the counter top. Steve's lips find your cheek, trail to your ear. "Hi honey."

Cheeks blazing hot as Bucky's gaze catches your attention, a sly smirk that makes you pout. "You know, next time a warning or a note would be nice."

"Was," Steve's lips press against your temple, "No," now to your hair, "Time."

"Okay sweetheart," Buck huffs, "Quit hogging her up, cmere, give me my morning kiss doll."

A smile curls at the ends of your lips, legs still naked despite his warnings but trail over to kiss him. With one small kiss his other hand reaches out for his other lover, "Steve - sweetheart, come here. Wanna kiss babe."

Bucky pulls you into lap with a lady grin, hands falling to cup your rear. "Next time, put some pants on."

"I dunno, maybe." You tease him, sticking your tongue out only for him to tap his finger against it.

"Brat."

"Mmm, never have to wear pants around me." Steve comments finally joining the two of you with a teasing smirk. "Like ever, ever again."

#mob stucky #mob bucky #mob steve #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

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shades-of-stony · 3 years

Text

ABO Stony AUs!

Celestial Navigation by sabrecmc

Summary: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

Note: Does it need any explanation? This fic is an all time classic and favorite in the Stony fandom!

Object: Matrimony by BladeoftheNebula

Summary: Omega Tony Stark craves adventure and an escape from the life his parents have planned for him in New York. He places a listing in a marriage catalogue to seek a match with an alpha out West, and Sheriff Steve Rogers answers his advertisement. But finding a nice alpha doesn't mean it's all smooth sailing from there..

- A Mail Order Bride AU -

Note: A 10/10! This has all the splendid elements of ABO with an added twist of a West setting and time!

The Team Omega by AngeNoir for PhenomenalAsterisk

Summary: Steve Rogers is thawed, stressed, and not quite sure what Director Fury wants with him. Giving him a unit of all alphas, even if most of them Steve had fought alongside when the alien menace had nearly wiped out the entire city of New York... The thing is, more than four alphas wouldn't work in a unit with one another, not for long. Everyone knew that. Steve knew that, intimately, with the Howling Commandos.

Which was why Director Fury had, apparently, assigned them an omega.

Frustrated at the inability to even choose his team, let alone choose the omega that was supposed to keep the peace between everyone, Steve storms back to his unit's assigned quarters. There, he meets Tony Stark, grandchild of Howard Stark, clearly unhappy with his position and just as clearly unwilling to break contract with the U.S. military complex. So why was someone like Anthony Stark here, in Steve's charge?

And how could Steve even act upon his genuine attraction, with the power imbalance clearly in place?

Note: I admit, this has one of the best takes on ABO I read in a while! It’s a good read!

If You Love Me I'll Love You Too by Carsonian

Summary: Starrk hands Steven a knife, leatherbound and strong, to fulfill the rite. The Alpha must go first. Steven takes Anthony’s hand, slices a clean line across the palm.

“And in the sharing of blood, I am become yours.” Steven recites.

Anthony takes the knife and returns the favour.

“And in the sharing of blood,” He looks up, eyes dark and unfathomable, “I am become yours.”

Note: A well-written ABO Stony fanfic with a dash of arranged marriage and Middle Ages (though the time period wasn’t exactly specified). It takes on how Steve and Tony navigates through their forced marriage and how they learn to care for each other!

Tribute Given, Treasure Gained by sphagnum

Summary: “Steve,” the Captain said, hand over his chest.

Tony licked his lips. Was he supposed to give his name, or remain silent until he was asked a direct question? The Captain--Steve, apparently--already knew his name, he had to, it had been included on the settlement he and Stane had signed. Was this a test? Time was passing and Steve was still waiting with his hand on his chest but Tony had to figure out the right answer fast or when Steve moved he might--“

Tony,” he blurted.

“Tony,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t come any closer. He said something short that might have been pleased to meet you or you look good on your knees. Tony had no way of knowing and he wasn’t going to risk echoing it. He kept quiet. See, Howard? I do know how to shut up when my life depends on it.

Note: A nice ABO with Warlord!Steve! This is a great read, with the steamy smut on the end being a nice cherry on top!

While We Pretend to Sleep by Typo66

Summary: Tony pretends to be an alpha. Then he forgets he had been pretending. One thing he remembers is Steve. Steve tries to help out in his old fashioned, ethically strict way. Tony likes making big gestures. He has never been subtle.

Note: Another Stony classic! This is a great take on ‘Tony denying his nature’! A deifinite 10/10 read!

Rockabye by BladeoftheNebula

Summary: Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

Note: A fun read where Firefighter!Steve lend a hand to pregnant Tony! It also takes place in a Small Town kind of setting, which is an added bonus!

In the middle of the night by defenceless_stark

Summary: In the past, alphas used to only mate with other alphas and maybe the occasional beta or delta. Omegas were seen as useless and scum to alphas. Omegas would only stay in a pack if they could keep up and they were only protected if they were the head alpha’s offspring. Over time, alphas soon discovered that omegas were useful for producing offspring, due to their high fertility rates and weaker genes, so, in most cases, only the alpha’s genes will pass on. Alphas soon evolved to an omega’s scent, making them possessive and dominant over omegas which led to an increase in abuse and mistreatment. Steven Rogers was expected to be an omega, but much to everyone’s to surprise, he was an alpha.

Anthony Stark was expected to be an alpha, but much to his father’s disappointment, he was an omega.

Like any omega, Tony had his fair share of omega abuse and harassment. But unlike any other omega, he wasn’t one to sit around and take it.

Note: If you are avid ABO fan, this is a Stony fanfic that you wouldn’t want to miss!

In A Rut by rougewinter

“You don’t have to do this, Tony.” Pepper said as she tightened her white knuckled grip on the clipboard in her arms. “I’m sure we can find someone else.”

“Yes. I do.” Tony said, surprised that his voice came out steadier than he expected.

Or the one where Steve goes into an Alpha Rut and Tony is the only one who can help.

Note: A short but sweet-well, not sweet since it has that dose of great smut! make sure to check it’s sequel where Tony is in heat! (Heat Up by rougewinter for avengemehamlet)

Please don’t (give me what I want) by masterlokisev159

Summary: After the events in Siberia, a new law is declared and Steve and Tony's newly reformed relationship is torn to pieces.

Then Tony goes into heat. And Steve is adamant to save it.

A post-civil war story where Tony is put in a position where he cannot consent to anything at all. Steve, the strongest alpha of all time, is furious.

Note: For those Stony shippers that wants a bit of angst!

Perfect Man for the Job by Ilearnedtoreadforthis

Summary: After his ordeal in Afghanistan, omega Tony creates the Stark Housing Initiative: Executive Level Development (or S.H.I.E.L.D., for short) to provide housing to returning veterans. When alpha Steve Rogers applies to manage S.H.I.E.L.D., it turns Tony's life upside down.

Note: This is a cute employee/boss story with a dash of ABO!

World Acclimation by Del_Rion

Summary: When an unexplained phenomenon washes over the entire planet, the Avengers are left to struggle along with the rest of the population. Chains of command, relationships and friendships alike are put to the test as new biological imperatives take hold, and only one thing is certain: the world will never be the same.

Note: This is one of my favorites! It has a unique take on ABO that I don’t see often. And well, Am still hoping for the next installment. Though, read the tags carefully!

You Are Not Broken, Just Bent. by NazakiSama166

Summary: He won't break!

No matter how much he was tortured, no matter how much he was beaten, starved, threatened... He won't, he won't, he won't!

Until he did...

--- When Shield uncovers a hidden sub-basement in the house of Obadiah Stane, they find a tortured omega and his pup. Everything went down the drain when that Omega turned out to be Tony Stark, Howard Stark's son that went missing six years ago.

Note: Anyone in the mood for angst?

WIP:

Finding Pack by Naferty

Summary: In a world where pack means everything from status to fame to survival and to family, newly pack-less Tony Stark is trying to survive after those he once trusted betrayed him, and starting over by searching for a new pack to take him in, but with his age and status weighing heavily on his shoulders finding someone to take a chance on him might be easier said than done.

What pack wanted an old infertile omega in their ranks? Certainly not the famous Avengers pack led by the equally famous Captain.

Note: This is a bit of a slow burn Stony fanfic that ticks all ABO boxes! It’s an all-time-favorite and classic!

Secrets Don't Make Friends by sayah1112

Summary: Tony Stark has a secret. Several, in fact. Outed to the world as an Omega, he finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. His only hope at salvation rests upon the strong shoulders of a certain Captain Steven Rogers. The problem? Rogers hates his guts.

Note: Another favorite of mine! This is a great hurt/comfort fanfic centered on stony!

This is just part 1 guys! I’m kind of a big fan of ABO so I have a few more to recommend!

#stony #stony au #superhusbands #stevetony #stony fic #stony fic rec #stevetony fic #stevetony fic rec

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trash-for-seabass · 2 years

Text

The knots in your brain chapter 3: our little wooden house.

Pairing: Bucky x reader (normally Stucky but this one Is all buck)

Warnings: mention of night terrors, dry humping, nocturnal emissions, fondling someone’s tittes while your asleep.

Authors note: considering having this story start to include dark themes.

~~~~

“So what are these things called again?”

Bucky points to the pumpkin headed creature leaving a trail of white around our little wooden house.

“It’s called a snow gollum Buck” I reply, scooting a tenth of an inch closer to him. “Here watch this”

I approach the snow gollum with a pair of shears and remove the pumpkin, revealing the derpy face of the snowman beneath. Bucky let’s out a short laugh, shifting his weight on my bed.

After the night in the bathroom I thought things were going to become awkward between us but they didn’t, in fact it was the exact opposite. Sure things were a bit weird for a few days but then he started showing up for massages at work again, and after that he began to join Steve and I for dinners. And now here we were, chilling in my bedroom while I played minecraft. I tried to teach him but Bucky insisted he preferred to watch me play.

This was a big week of trust for Steve, Bucky, and myself. It was the first time since I moved in that Steve had a 7 day mission and Sam wouldn’t be here to supervise, though really he was here to babysit. Both of them would be in Lagos for a week with Nat and Wanda. Steve had gone full mother bird mode before he left, making sure the fridge and pantry were stocked and the laundry was done. He double checked we had enough phone chargers, even testing most of them, making sure we had no excuse to not answer our phones.

The first two days passed by pretty normally, Bucky and I had chosen to stay in our respective rooms but we would see each other at meals even eating together once or twice. On the third day I had noticed Bucky growing increasingly uncomfortable, and after I had gotten off of work I walked in on him with his shirt off noticing his muscles were extremely tight. I had back in time to my room for a personal massage session which he greatly enjoyed, it was so good he ended up falling asleep in my bed. He looked so peaceful I couldn’t pull myself to wake him up.

Yesterday after I came home from work and collapsed in my bed I grabbed my Xbox controller and booted up the console, scrolling through my library over to my favorite game: Minecraft. I couldn’t have been playing for more then 20 minutes before I heard a tentative knock at my door.

I looked up to see Bucky’s large frame filling up my doorway. Steve didn’t explicitly say I had to keep my door open but it was implied it would make both him and Bucky feel better. His white shirt and blue boxers clung to his skin, and his hair hung damp around his face, clearly fresh from the shower. Bucky’s face moved from mine to the screen, watching the 3 village cats approach the fish I had in my blocky hand. I sat as still as my Minecraft character, in fear of scaring off the village cat now standing in my doorway.

“Do you mind if I watch?”

Bucky’s question surprised me, he wasn’t the most social guy and he never showed much interest in anything that had to do with a TV, save for watching the morning news.

I quickly scooted to the other side of my bed and patter the spot I previously occupied. Bucky moved from the doorway and gently sat down, immediately sinking into my memory foam mattress. After a quick gripe about ‘how could you possibly sleep in this thing? It feels like I’m gonna fall through the floor’ Bucky settled in and watched me play, periodically asking questions until my mammoth yawns told him I was tired and he excused himself to let me sleep.

Today was the 5th day and it progressed much like the day before. After coming home and showering, Bucky hoped into my bed and watched me play for hours on end. He truly seemed fascinated with the endless blocky world and the many creatures that inhabited it.

We had been playing for hours at this point and I couldn’t stifle the yawns anymore. Bucky took the hint and before I could get a word in he bid me goodnight and slipped out of my room.

With a huff I turned everything off and lay down, rolling over onto my side so I faced the door, letting my heavy eyelids close as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

~~~

I’m jolted awake at 2:37am by blood curdling screams. Throwing the warm sheets off, I sprint to the room across the hall, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Throwing open the door to Steve and Bucky’s room I’m greeted with a stomach curling sight.

Bucky is sitting up in the bed, arms wrapped protectively around himself as he shakes and shivers, a layer of sweat can be seen glistening off his bare chest in the dim lights of New York City. The sheets are thrown to the side, leaving him completely bare to the cold other then the burgundy boxers covering his hips. His breaths come out shaky and ragged, slightly muffled by the pouring rain.

“Hey Buck….” I start, taking careful steps towards him. Steve had warned me about Bucky’s night terrors and he went over what I should do before he left. “Steve’s house rules” as I called them.

Check in with Steve and Nat everyday at least once a day (preferably more)

Call for help if Bucky goes into an episode

If physical assistance is needed I was to call Tony and Jarvis immediately.

Do NOT touch Bucky if he’s having a night terror.

Do NOT share a bed with Bucky no matter how sweetly he asks.

Bucky’s head snaps to me, his long hair swishing over his shoulders. It’s difficult to tell if he’s awake or not so I tread carefully, taking another step into the room.

“It’s ok Buck” I start, keeping my voice low and calm. “Your ok. Your gonna be ok”

He drops his head. “What did I do?”

Another step. “You didn’t do anything Buck. It’s ok”

His voice is still lazy and groggy, he slowly curls and uncurls each of this fingers one by one. “Everything hydra put in me is still there. It’s always going to be there”

“It doesn’t matter” I whisper. I’m close enough to touch him now. Steve warned me that under no circumstances should I try to touch Bucky when he had a night terror, telling me there’s a chance he could still be asleep and not recognize me. That he might hurt me.

So I gently rest my palm on his shoulder, right where flesh meets metal.

Bucky’s head snaps up to me once more but this time I can clearly see his crystal blue eyes, awake and alert, and brimming with tears.

“Hey hey it’s ok” I whisper, slowly bringing my arms up to wrap around him. “I’m here it’s ok”

Bucky doesn’t say anything but after a moment he brings his arms up and wraps them around my waist, squeezing me close and slowly guiding me into his lap. I end up straddling him, hooking my ankles at his lower back to ensure I can hold him as tightly as possible, as he crisscross’s his arms over my shoulder blades. It’s a bit intimate but I wasn’t going to pull away now. His head is cradled in my chest as I gently stroke his hair.

We sit there for….well it was hard to keep track of time while listening to the drizzle of the rain. But after he’s stopped shaking, Bucky speaks up. “Will you stay?”

I lean back, cocking my head to the side in question.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asks again, giving me the biggest set of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen before whispering out a small “please”

I nod, gently scratching the back of his neck watching in amusement as Bucky’s head sinks backwards into my palm. Slowly, Bucky and I untangle ourselves and shift till we’re both on our sides, staying in physical contact the entire time. I let Bucky maneuver me how he wants, fitting me against him with my back to his chest before tangling our legs together. He crosses his arms over my chest, making sure the warm flesh one is pressed directly into my skin, and holds me close, the exposed back of my tank top pressing right against where his heart pounds.

I nuzzle into him, closing my eyes just as I hear him whisper a small thank you and ready my mind for sleep.

But an hour later I’m still wide awake.

Bucky’s breathing has evened out, and his tight, fearful grip has loosened. He’s calmed down enough that the reality of the situation has finally washed over me.

I’m curled up with an almost naked super soldier, In his bed! , while being in just a tank top and comfy red panties myself.

The scruff of his jaw brushes the back of my neck as he nuzzles his face deeper into my hair, and the slight friction sends a buzz straight to my core. He keeps doing it, rubbing his scruff back and forth on the sensitive part of my neck, so much so it was me squirming in his grip, small involuntary moans escaping my lips.

Bucky’s subconscious must pick it up based on the growl that bubbles up in his throat and the way his grip tightens around my chest. His hips thrust up into the curve of my ass as he kneads my beasts with his palms like a cat. Then suddenly his fingers curl around the neck of my shirt and yank it down, revealing my breasts to the cold air. His fingers quickly envelop the soft mounds, rubbing my nipples between his pointer and middle fingers. The sensation of his hands, fire and ice, sending shivers down my back, forcing it to bow. That seems to please his sleeping mind as a happy hmm vibrates through his chest.

I look around in a panic, spotting my phone on the bedside table. I don’t know who I intended to call for help, but it doesn’t matter. The shivers running down my spine and the pooling in my panties make it impossibly hard to focus even as my finger tips brush the surface of the smooth wood. If I can just grab my phone I can-

Bucky’s sudden shift makes me gasp as he quickly throws a his leg over me and settles himself on my back.

He’s mounting me.

He’s fucking mounting me

All 260 pounds of super soldier rests itself on my back, pushing me down into the mattress and making it hard to breathe.

I can’t squirm away. Hell I can barley move.

His flesh hand quickly lands next to my head with a pomph as his metal snakes under my torso, crossing over my chest and gripping my shoulder. His hips start moving, grinding his throbbing erection back and forth over my ass. His grunts and growls in my ear as his thrusts get faster. It’s hot, it’s heavy, it’s wrong in so many ways.

And I loved it.

I could feel slick running down my thighs as I arched my back into his thrusts. I don’t know if he can feel it, or maybe he could freaking smell it, but Bucky plows his hips into mine, causing the headboard to smack into the wall, I cried out, a coil in my stomach growing tighter and tighter, feeling like it might snap at any second-

Bucky groans loudly in my ear, his pistoning hips faltering before coming to a stop as his body tenses. Then, with a satisfied grunt, he proceeds to pull a post but flop as he rolls off me and onto the other side of the bed, curling up in the blanket with a satisfied hum.

I lay on my back for a few moments, staring at the ceiling with my titties out as I try to process what just happened. The only thought that passes through my head is ‘if your gonna take advantage of me at least do it properly you pig’

With a huff I roll out of bed and plant my feet on the cold hardwood floor, getting up and walking over to grab a glass of water from the kitchen before heading back to my own bed, this time closing the door behind me.

~~~

I awoke the next morning to the smell of pancakes and peppermint tea. Groggily I wandered out of bed to find Bucky in the kitchen, a Captain America apron that Sam had gotten him as a joke gift hung around his torso.

If Bucky remembers anything from last night he dosnt show it, simply smiling and offering me a good morning before filling his plate up with pancakes and moving to sit in the living room.

My cunt trembles as I watch him walk to the living room, the memories of how heavy he was and the way his scruff felt on my neck flooding back to me. I shake my head, filling up my plate and grabbing the cup of tea as Bucky turns on the news.

I can faintly hear the news reporter say the words “Captain America” and “Logos” which has me sprint-walking to the living room to see what was going on. I was expecting to see the Avengers boarding the Quin-jet after a successful mission.

Instead I round the corner just as the building above Steve blows up in a ball of fire.

~~~

Tag list: @ladybug05 @lianixpanix

#bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #captain america #stucky #steve rogers x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

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wkemeup · 4 years

Text

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers.

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.

He froze.

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly.

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.

It was bullshit.

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Bad Dreams - Bucky Barnes x Avenger (f)reader

Summary: You and Bucky are adjusting to civilian life after the Blip, some nights he needs you more then he realizes.

Warning: bit o angst, soft Bucky, fluff

Masterlist

It had been a long fucking five years alone, sure you had Nat and Steve around at the Avengers Facility. But no matter how much time you spent with them doing whatever to keep your mind busy, at the end of the day, you were undoubtedly alone. You liked it that way at one point in your complicated life as an Avenger, but after the blip, you absolutely despised it.

No one had expected what would have happened to be so terrible and tragic, or it to even go the way that it did. You had never even heard of Thanos or what the fuck kind of weirdass monsters could exist from other parts of the galaxy until they showed up knocking. How rude huh.

Life was peaceful before hand, well for the most part; you were an Avenger, someone who was part of the team. A conjurer of flame and ash, a Phoenix held within that was not afraid to use your power, and you used it well.

Then as per usual, shit went down and low and behold you met the one and only James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s old friend with the metal arm and troubling history. Not to mention a face to die for, or at least one that would cause a bit of a chaotic scuffle between your two friends. They clearly had other priorities apart from yours at the time which was keep Steve out of jail, don’t burn anyone, and refrain from flirting with his 90 something year old friend. You tried your best in most of those areas. Most of them.

Nonetheless, you fell hard and fast for the blue eyed man, and him the same for you, his feisty little firecracker with a heart as big and bright as a dragons. So when he went to Wakanda to lie low and get some much needed help. You followed.

With a heartfelt goodbye and a lasting kiss, he went under for a couple long weeks until Shuri and her expert team of scientists were able to fix what those bastards at Hydra had done to him.

For a short yet blessedly peaceful amount of time did you and your dark haired lover live safely within the Wakandan borders. In a small and beautiful little village by a lake, a hut all your own to shelter you from the heat and rain that poured hard onto the earth, and most wonderfully of all you had Bucky.

Life was simple for the first time in a long time, you spent the days helping out the locals and teaching the children how to properly swing a stick in defense, you know completely normal leisure activities. Spending the evenings making a big fire to tell stories under and cook the best food in Wakanda.

And the nights? You spent those wrapped up in Bucky’s arm, although most times you would be the big spoon which he loved more then anything in the whole world. Telling you it’s not just because you’re naturally warm, but that he’s been admittedly a bit touch starved from the years alone and lost. And for that you would always hold him closer.

Then that fateful day came crashing into your lives like a waterfall against rock, your friends had shown up claiming some being called Thanos was coming to take a stone out of Vision’s head. Yeah that was a new one.

The battle wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, you were able to save many lives by scorching the beasts that pursed onward. Letting whips of flame slash hard against the enemy with great skill and force from your bending. Then the world seemed to still, and the wind swayed the trees oddly.

Then HE came, the Titan from another world, he threw down all in his path without an ounce of mercy or remorse. You and Wanda were so close, so damn close to stopping him, but then he threw you back with the whole force of the gauntlet and a moment later Vision was dead.

Your head was bleeding and a fresh scar had marked your jaw in a bloody red slash from the impact. Though your mind didn’t have time to register nor care as Thanos abruptly disappeared into oblivion, leaving a confused Thor in his wake. Much like the rest of the Avengers.

Then to your horror, one by one, your friends began to turn to ash and dust. Gone. You raced for Bucky nearby, praying to who’d ever listen to spare him or you for that matter. You just needed ten more seconds and then you could have held him one last time, touched his precious skin, ran your fingers through his long dark locks.

Looked into his ocean blue eyes, but no, the universe laughed as you gasped in panic, then it snickered as you screamed. Cheering you on as you sobbed in a cyclone of your own fire until the ground was scorched to shriveled dry earth. And no more tears could fall, your throat raw and heart broken in two.

Your world was gone, a memory forever kept locked inside your heart and soul. He was gone, he was your world, Bucky made your life better and you his.

For the coming months you were a mess, an angry and frustrated wreck of a person. Functioning by sheer will power and Natasha to keep you afloat in your new dreary little world of nothingness. You envied Steve for his ability to keep most of his shit together, and where almost enraged by Tony who had everything still intact. Pepper and a child on the way, how cruel the universe appeared.

You would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, your heart racing a mile a minute and usually part of the wall behind you would be burnt and blackened. You never set fire to anything thank god, but fuck, your heart hurt so much.

You wanted to scream most days, but as one year rolled into two and then three, the dull dreary ache in your body subdued to a tiny flicker of sadness. It became almost nonexistent during the day as you went about Avenger business, only to burn hot and angry at night.

You wanted to move on and forget, but you couldn’t, he was too important. They all didn’t deserve to go like that, none of them. And so another year passed, then it was year five since the blip, more months passed on. Until out of nowhere something or perhaps someone miraculous lit the way into a new sense of hope.

Resulting in the return of everyone who had been lost before, including your Bucky. And from that moment after the battle, when at long last you had finally found him, you knew life would never be the same.

——

Rain pours relentlessly from outside your apartment window, a rhythmic pitter patter near your bedside that aids in keeping you asleep and unbothered for the time being. No sooner do you reach the climax of your dream that consists of you being chased by a giant monarch butterfly with no weapon but a sandbox plastic shovel, do you wake. Strange dream.

All your senses flooding back into you as you feel for your lover in the darkness, your eyes still closed as you do so. Your hand slides across the crinkled bedsheets to no avail, the spot next to you is undeniably empty and rather cold.

oh, Bucky.

Cracking one eye open you glance at the alarm clock where it reads 1:10am in big red letters, illuminating the nightstand that it sits on. You take in a deep breath and roll onto your back to stare up at the ceiling, this has become a reoccurring event with Bucky in the following months since his return.

In Wakanda things were different, it was like a nice prolonged vacation away from all your problems and responsibilities of the world. Now, you two have an apartment somewhere in New York City all your own. Bucky goes to therapy and does his best to integrate back into his new role as a civilian while you work as an Avenger part time. The other half used for being a supporting loving girlfriend to Bucky and a hacker on the side for extra cash in the bank.

You get it though, he’s adjusting the best he’s able to manage right now, and even when he swears the nightmares are gone for good. You know him too well to believe that shit, you can see it in his eyes, he may have been a master assassin at one point. Now he’s with a skilled and almost equally as weathered Avenger who’s seen her share of people really going through it.

It’s not like you were doing any better, you’d wake up screaming in the dead of night from another nightmare involving losing Bucky again. That only lasted for a month or so, but still, it sucked and hurt every damn time. So you get it, nightmares can be a bitch.

Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you yawn into the darkness and take a moment to listen to the sound of the rain. It’s peaceful and calm, and though you’d like nothing more then to roll over and fall back into the dark comfortable void of sleep. You long to see Bucky again, even if you saw him not even two hours ago.

Pulling the blanket off of your body, you slowly sit up and face the blurry window that overlooks the glowing city, well more so the park close by. Pushing some hair out of your face, you stand and take a brief moment to stretch before letting your right hand emit a beautiful blue flame.

It proptly lights up the dark room into a shadowed yet still visible one, with a lazy proud smile, you move for the opened bedroom door. Your flame lights the way down the hall until you wander past the tiny kitchen and stop in your living room to the sound of heavy breathing coming from the far end.

You give a lopsided smirk to no one in particular as you pad over to the man who’s sweaty and shirtless on the wooden apartment floor in nothing but his boxers and a single blanket that’s not covering much. Well he sure looks like a hot mess, your hot mess that is.

He gives you an apologetic glance before staring tiredly back at the nearby wall. You extinguish your flame and gently nudge his leg with your sock, “How’s the floor?” You ask with a tinge of humor to lighten the mood.

He lets out a breathy laugh before looking back up at you, “Solid.” Quips Bucky in reference to the hard floor and perhaps his take on the makeshift bed, always one for a bit of humor huh.

Chuckling you crouch down to better meet his shadowed gaze, “I guess so,” You mutter with a shrug, “....afraid I might burn you in my sleep?”

Shaking his head, he gifts you the flash of a smile, “No. Not this time Y/N.”

You smile back before sitting down next to him, you look down at his hand before reaching out to take it without any resistance, “I know it’s the nightmares Bucky.” You whisper softly, your eyes sincere and true, “You don’t have to hold it all in okay, I don’t.....I don’t want you to do that.”

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Bucky frowns, “I know Y/N....I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just love you too much to see you hurting. I’ve missed you for what feels like a hundred goddamn years and I don’t want you to slip away from me..” You add with a sad smile, “Never again.”

Squeezing your hand gently, Bucky nods, “You’re not going to lose me okay. I promise you that much alright. I love you Y/N.” And he means every word.

“That’s good then. Can you at least tell me something to ease your mind from what’s bothering you?” You ask with a hopeful smile, “Please. Remember what the therapist talked about with speaking your thoughts and feelings....it’s like emptying a treasure chest or some shit.”

“Right.” Laughs Bucky, “Can’t say you’re going to find any gold in here.”

“Shut up I don’t care.” You muse with a shrug, “I’m here to listen.”

“As the lady wishes.” Retorts Bucky with a half-assed bow that caused you to break out into a small smile at his cheekiness.

“Wait.” You pause.

“What?”

“Can we sit on the couch for this I wanna lay next to you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky fakes his annoyance as you patiently await his answer, “Fine.” He confirms, quickly standing up and taking you with him, “But you gotta lay on me I’m kinda cold now.”

Bucky falls onto the large comfortable couch with a dramatic huff as he pulls you onto his shirtless body, “Weren’t you just all sweaty?” You wonder with a raised brow as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep.”

“Gross.”

Bucky chuckles, “Well you’re making me talk about my feelings.”

“That’s because you won’t talk about them with your actual therapist.” You sass back.

“I hate it when you’re right.” Mutters Bucky into your cheek as you snicker at his adorably dramatic self.

“I think your brain short circuited and misplaced the word hate for absolutely love and adore.”

“Maybe.” Adds Bucky as he steals a sweet kiss, “I’m still working through things you know.”

“Okay smartass. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

His chest rises as he takes a deep heavy sigh, he stares out the nearby window that keeps the rainy city from being bothersome. You can’t completely see his face due to the darkened room, but you’re close enough to see the way his face turns into a frown.

Suddenly you think maybe you shouldn’t have bugged him to speak about his nightmares. Until he purses his lips together and glances those big beautiful blue eyes down at you, the flash of a smile revealing itself in a split second.

To give him a bit more confidence and perhaps to calm his nerves, do you reach a hand up to gently caress his stubbled cheek, “Was it the Starks again?” You whisper softly in question, knowing how much it still haunts him. Among all the others.

Closing his eyes, he leans into your touch, “Not this time.” Mutters Bucky before taking that hand in his as he rests his head against the couches puffy arm. “Someone else.....Someone who got in the way. Wrong place wrong time.”

“oh.” Slips from your mouth quietly, you’re not sure what else to say, but you’re still hoping he’ll speak a little more about it. “Do they have anything to do with your list?”

It’s a shot in the dark, but you’re well aware of Bucky’s goal to make amends with his past and the people tied with it, maybe someone might be linked to it by chance.

Bucky takes another weighted breath, you can just sense how terrible he feels about this person. “Bucky take your time, it’s okay I’m right here.”

Looking for a positive sign you watch as he closes his eyes once again before moving his head a little bit so that it rests against yours, “I know....it’s just, difficult.”

“Always is.”

“Yeah.”

Kissing your forehead, his flesh arm wraps around your waist as he makes himself more comfortable before continuing, “I was in some government building at night.....tasked with eliminating some special high end target. I finished the mission in under a minute, but uh....there was a civilian who saw everything.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Mumbles Bucky against your skin as he takes a moment to gather himself, soon he shifts underneath you once more before letting out a soft breath, “I shot him.”

A bang of sadness washes over you in that brief second and then a sparking anger for what Hydra had forced him to do. You keep silent and wait for Bucky to continue on with his story.

“That guy I killed. He um....he uh, he didn’t deserve that....but I had to.” Bucky’s voice is shaky as he puts his words together, “And you know what’s the worst about this?”

“I’d like not to imagine it but I know you should tell me.”

“You remember Yori?”

“Of course, he takes us to that great sushi place sometimes.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut as he hugs you tighter against his bare chest for some kind of comfort, his voice nothing but a regretful whisper, “I killed his son.”

Your eyes soften as he reveals who this mystery civilian was, “Damn.”

“Out of all the people in this world and I meet the man who’s son I murdered for Hydra.”

“That’s almost a sick joke.”

“I know. God I’m so fucked up.”

“No.” You protest softly while he hides his face in your neck, “I know you’ve heard this a thousand times but that wasn’t you. It wasn’t the real James Buchanan Barnes alright, you didn’t have a choice. Those fuckers took that away from you.”

“I know Y/N, but I still did it.”

“Bucky look at me.” You ask kindly, to your genuine surprise he lifts his head from your neck to look into your determined gaze, “You’re not the only one here who was manipulated and had their freedom taken from them by Hydra. I’ve done terrible things too, but you know what? We were never truly ourselves then, they molded us into their weapons and now.....they can never touch us again. You understand me?”

Tears whell up in Bucky’s shimmering eyes at your truthfully honest words, he had temporarily forgotten that you were once an unwilling participant in Hydra’s mind stone experimentations many years ago.

“I understand....” Mutters Bucky as he swallows hard, “what would I be without you?”

Giving him a small tearful smile, you gently wipe away a stray tear from his cheek, “A little bit more alone I’d say.”

“You’re a hundred times braver then me you know that? I couldn’t image five years without you and these fucking nightmares.” Admits Bucky as he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck, “I’d go insane.”

Appreciating this close proximity and his heartfelt confession, you smile into the darkness, “I think I did. Thing is about shitty situations like that....life moves on and finds a way. I have you now, I thought I would lose you forever.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Road to Healing

Gif is not mine.

Summary: The one where you and Wanda travel around the country while grieving together. / Inspired by road trip-themed movies.

Read Complete work on AO3 too.

Warnings> Explicit language (cursing) , mentions of death, grieve and panic attacks. Mainly fluff and sad.

Words: 4.299K (Oneshot)

When Thanos won, you didn't have time to grieve. Immediately on the battlefield, you were responsible for helping to heal the wounded. And you were exhausted when it was over.

And then S.H.I.E.L.D. was triggered, and you knew they would take Vision if they found him. You thought Wanda wouldn't want that. And you ignored the intense pain you felt at the thought of her, and repeated to yourself that you wouldn't want that either. So you used Tony's technology to bring Vision's body back to the Avengers compound. And then you told them that Thanos had destroyed him along with the jewel, and that's what they wrote in their reports.

When you finally returned home, you only slept after you had organized a memorial for him. You didn't ask your colleagues to participate. The remaining avengers just seemed empty. So you left them alone.

Your hands trembled when you touched the knob of Wanda's room. You were looking for a picture of Vis. You found it eventually. When you left the room, your shirt was wet with your tears.

You thought Vision would like a view of the sea. So you left his body in a black wooden coffin, and buried it on the edge of the hill a few meters from the exit of the complex. You figured that Vision wasn't religious, so you just used the 3D printer to create a little iron plate, and stuck it against the ground.

You could not sleep that night. And the next. When you finally did, your panic attacks started. But the emergency calls started coming in, and you knew you had no time for grief. The world needed you now.

You learned to deal with the panic, but the nightmares continued. So you accepted more assignments, until you were too exhausted to dream. And then you got used to it.

And like the snap of a finger, five years passed.

When you defeated Thanos, you fell to your knees. You couldn't find Natasha. And then you couldn't breathe. You realize what was happening, you knew they were back. But you can't go through this again. Because the world needs you again. And then you calm down, and you stand up. And then you are walking.

Steve doesn't come back. You think you hear Bucky crying in his room. But you don't say anything, because he doesn't like to talk about it.

You take Wanda to the tomb of Vision two days before Tony's funeral. She sobs against you as you hug her, your own tears preventing you from seeing your surroundings clearly. You haven't left her side since.

After Tony's funeral is over, you destroy the items in your room with a bat. When you fall to the ground, Wanda sits beside you quietly, and holds your hand. She doesn't mind you shouting Nat's name along with your sobs.

- I can't stay here anymore. - You tell her the next night, while you are in your room. - I can't breathe in this place. - You confess with tears on your face. - I feel like I'm going to die.

Wanda intertwines your hands.

- Let's leave then.

You let out a long sigh, trying to control your tears. And then you nod.

Your mood improves considerably once you are out of the compound. You don't think about Nat, or Tony, or Steve, because if you do, your hands start to shake. But you think about healing. You think about being there for your best friend.

And then you decide to live. And you hold both of Wanda's hands when you tell her that you are going to travel. Travel to all the places she hasn't visited in the United States.

You want to remember that there are still things to live for. You want Nat to be proud of you.

When Wanda nods in agreement, you smile, and hug her. And then you get a truck, and you let Wanda hold the map.

It is hot and humid, and you drum your fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly the pop song playing on the radio.

Wanda fell asleep against the passenger seat some time ago, and it has been a few hours since you left the small motel where you were staying after leaving the Avengers compound.

You are hungry, so you stop the car at the first dinner you find. The loss of movement of the vehicle awakens Wanda.

- Hey sleepyhead. - You joke as you take out your key, and look for your wallet in the glove compartment. - Let's go get something to eat.

You walk to the diner, which is practically empty. Wanda doesn't seem to be fully awake yet, but smiles at you when she catches you looking. You sit down on opposite sides of the table.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon, and pancakes, please. - You tell the waitress, and Wanda gives you a curious look. She orders cereal and chocolate waffles.

- Why are we having breakfast for dinner? - she asks with a smile.

You shrug, laughing lightly.

- It's always time for pancakes.

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and you look back. And then you are having a blinking contest. The waitress gives you a judgmental look when she interrupts the game, but you and Wanda smile and thank her for the food.

You finish eating first, and are distracted by one of the crossword puzzle magazines that the restaurant leaves under the tables.

- Hey, Wands, help me with this one. - You say slightly distracted as you run your pencil across the paper. - "One word. Destined for belonging. Companionship. Devotion" Do you have any idea what it is?

- Soulmates. - Wanda says before chewing another piece of waffle. You let out a contented exclamation when the word fits, and smile at her, who just winks at you, smiling back.

- Does this taste good? - you ask, watching her eat. She nods, pushing her plate toward you. Wanda hands you her own fork to taste the waffles. They are very good, but you don't want to eat any more.

You can't finish your crossword puzzle, and you return the magazine to the table compartment before you leave the restaurant.

And then it is Wanda's turn to drive. You sit in the passenger seat, and turn up the radio as you get back on the road. You wish you could stay awake at night to keep Wanda company, but it only takes four songs for you to fall asleep.

It is morning when you arrive in Virgina. And it is cold enough for you to wrap Wanda in a scarf when she refuses to warm up properly. She just laughs with flushed cheeks when you let her go. You rent a room with two beds, and after you shower, Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You are browsing through the channels when she comes back with a towel wrapped in her hair, she smells good even from a distance.

- Do you want to go out to eat, or do you want to order a pizza? - you ask.

- Pizza. - She replies as she lies down on the bed.

You need to go out and look for a pay phone, because both of your cell phones are off and in the bottom of one of the boxes you are carrying in the truck.

- Shall we watch a movie? - she asks when you come back into the room.

- Comedy or horror? - You counter with a question as you kick off your shoes. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully.

- Both.

You smile as you hang your coat on the door.

You have been watching "Scary Movie" for twenty minutes when the pizza arrives. Wanda pauses the movie while you stand up and pay the delivery man.

She uses her powers to drag the coffee table into the space between the two beds, and you place the pizza on top of the wood and sit cross-legged on Wanda's bed.

Eventually, you finish the pizza and wipe your hands with napkins. And then Wanda lets the movie sequence continue, and you remain in her bed with the excuse that it was cold. You fall asleep at the end of the second film, but you wake up in the early morning hours with Wanda's hand against your waist. You don't think you should get used to the feeling, so you get up and go back to your bed.

Wanda cries when you arrive in Virginia Beach. You know it is the view of the sea, which reminded her of the tomb of Vision. You stand silently beside her as you entwine your hands. Wanda doesn't let go until you get back to the car.

It's cold, and you shouldn't have ice cream. But you do it anyway. You and Wanda stop at a drive-thru, and have your milkshakes while you drive toward Tennessee.

You let her have the rest of your ice cream even though she's had many tastes already.

On one of the roads, you stop the car on the roadside. You try to normalize your breathing.

- I'm here. - She says next to you in a gentle voice, as she lets you squeeze her hand over your lap. - You are safe.

You exchange directions for a while.

- So you have never been to Disney? - You ask between one lighthouse and another, somewhere in North Carolina.

Wanda denies it with a smile and a nod. She has only one hand on the wheel, and her hair is shining in the sun. You scold yourself for looking.

- Since we can't afford Disney, we should pick something cheap to do - You tell her while looking at one of the tour guides you found at the motel.

- I don't mind just driving around. - she says. You bite the smile from your lips.

- Yeah, me neither.

It takes two weeks for you to talk about Natasha. You have changed routes many times now, and then you sit in the back of the truck, and look at the stars. And Wanda asks you about your nightmares. You say that you dream that Nat is falling, and that you can never reach her. You fall asleep together in the back of the car, many blankets wrapped around you.

When you wake up holding each other, neither of you really minds.

You are near Chicago when you drag Wanda to an arcade in the late afternoon.

You and Wanda try out all the toys that are allowed for you. It's fun, and loud. And you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt.

And then you eat hamburger and fries with soda sitting in a parking lot. You push Wanda's shoulder lightly with yours when she steals one of your fries.

You are in a clothing bazaar when you see Wanda's breasts for the first time. In between trying on various strange outfits for fun, the fifth or sixth time you return to the changing room, Wanda pulls you into the cabin with her. And she smiles so much that you hardly notice them.

When you get back to the motel, you bathe first. You touch yourself in the shower without really thinking about anything, but when you cum, the image of her breasts are in your mind.

In Michigan you bet on a race. And Wanda absolutely beats you. She has flushed cheeks and a sweaty face when you catch up with her. You think it's unfair that she looks so beautiful.

You watch the sunset, and Wanda thinks she has seen an owl.

Your body begins to betray you when Wanda hugs you and you tremble. You decide that it is because you have been a long time without touching another person intimately and being touched in the same way.

You joke with Wanda that you need to find a one-night stand, and she doesn't smile when she agrees with you.

As you drive towards Kansas, a waitress flirts with you. Wanda gets back in the car saying that she is tired, and you don't understand why kissing the waitress against a wall while she has one hand down your pants doesn't satisfy you.

You talk about death in Springfield. You are sharing popcorn while wrapped in a blanket sitting on the grass a few feet from the truck.

- You can't die. - She declares suddenly and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wanda...?

- I won't... I won't survive.

You turned around quickly, and held up both your hands.

- I wouldn't like that. - You tell her. You know it's what she doesn't want to hear, but you need her to understand that. - I would never want your life to depend on mine.

Wanda sobs, lowering her head.

- I wish you would move on. - You nod to reaffirm her statement, your own face wet with tears. - I know... people expect me to say that I wish you would miss me, or not replace me. But I don't feel that way. - You confess. - I never want to be the reason for your unhappiness. If I die, and well, at some point I will, I want you to go on living. And enjoying it.

Wanda shakes her head, and jumps on your neck. She cries against your collarbone, but it's okay. You think she understood what you told her.

When she calms down, you are silent for several moments.

- What will you do if I die? - she asks, looking at you. You keep your gaze on the stars as you shrug;

- I would die too.

Wanda bites back a smile on her lips, and hugs you.

Bucky calls. You talk for five minutes. And then you text him that when he is ready you will be there to listen to him. You send a picture of you and Wanda, and when he calls again, you talk for five hours.

It takes four weeks since you left the compound to realize that you are in love with Wanda.

You are in a motel somewhere in Nebraska, and she is combing her hair in front of the television, a sitcom playing. And then she laughs, and you realize.

The realization doesn't surprise you though. You take a deep breath, and tell her you're going to get some air before you leave.

You lean back on the balcony, trying to push the guilt away. You can hardly believe it happened so fast and so intensely.

You decide that everything is too recent, and that it would be disrespectful to Wanda's grief, so you guard yourself.

You fight for the first time in Colorado. You are being stubborn and rude, and Wanda is being distant and judgmental. And then you are arguing about the next destination. And then you stop the car on the roadside, and Wanda says she's not going anywhere with you. And you are silent for forty minutes before you two start to cry.

You put your face against the steering wheel, and Wanda lifts her legs onto the seat and buries her face in her own arms.

It takes a long moment for you to calm down. And then you wipe away your tears and Wanda looks away into the window, and you drive away again.

You are staying in Utah for a few days. It is the first time you ask for separate rooms. You want to cry again, but you just take the key.

And then you can't sleep after four hours as you stare at the ceiling.

You get up, and go out onto the veranda. And your feet guide you to the next door. But before you can knock, Wanda opens it, and jumps into you, hugging you tight. Your body instantly relaxes, and you cry as you both apologize, and promise never to fight again.

You get drunk in Las Vegas. Really drunk. You don't remember ever laughing as hard as you did that night. You think Wanda used her powers to win the games, but you can't prove it. And then you're back in the truck, stumbling and laughing, and she has a look on her face that makes your stomach turn with nervousness.

But you swallow your nervousness with a smile, and accept the bottle of vodka she offers you. And then you are in a karaoke bar, singing at the top of your lungs for two hours into the early morning hours. When the owner kicks you out, Wanda holds your hand as you both run around town.

Back at the motel, you are laughing about something you can't remember, and then you fall into bed together, and instantly fall asleep.

When you wake up, you don't care about your headache.

You get the same tattoo in Las Vegas. Wanda holds and squeezes your hand while you are doing it, and you do the same to her. The tattoo artist thought you were married, and neither of you corrects him.

And then you take her to all the tourist spots, and you have ice cream and hot dogs. And Wanda's hand is warm against yours all the way.

On your last day in LA, you visit a nightclub. It is noisy, and lively, and has lots of alcohol. You find it hard to breathe when you see Wanda in a party dress, but she smiles and you follow her.

And then you dance and dance and dance, and you think about nothing. And then you're drunk again, and the girl at the bar is flirting with you. And Wanda's no longer smiling when she gets back on the dance floor.

You think the girl at the bar has asked for your number, but you're looking at Wanda dancing. And she moves her body with sensuality, and then there is a man behind her. Wanda kisses him while looking at you through the lights.

You take a shot of whiskey before leaving in a rage.

And when Wanda wakes up in the morning, she says she doesn't remember anything.

You think that you can no longer hide what you feel when you are on the road, heading for Oregon. But you just keep mumbling the song that plays on the radio.

Wanda bites her lip and has a lost look on her face, but when you ask her what's wrong, she looks away quickly as she says she was just distracted.

You are entertained by the music again.

You get used to your feelings in Portland. The routine helps you keep them quiet and buried deep in your chest.

You and Wanda begin to spend more time in inns, and camping, than on the road, but you still travel around the country.

And then Wanda talks about Vision for the first time. How important he had been, how much she missed him. You listen, and she asks about Nat. And you say that it is exactly the same way.

Neither of you cries anymore at the mention of their names.

It doesn't take long before the world needs you again. Sam calls. Stephen calls. You and Wanda throw your cell phones off a cliff, while toasting a lemonade.

- We are terrible superheroes, aren't we? - you ask looking at the horizon.

- The worst. - She replies before pouring her drink into her mouth.

You get your numbers back the same day by going to an electronics store.

And then you have to go back to New York.

Four hours down the road, and you both stop for a bite to eat in Cleveland, at a diner very similar to the one at your first stop.

Wanda walks ahead of you, hugging her own sweatshirt as she feels the late afternoon chill. You resist the urge to hug her.

- I'll have the waffles with chocolate and cereal. - You ask the waitress. Wanda stares at the menu for a few more seconds, biting her lower lip before speaking.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon with pancakes. - She asks right away.

You are silent for a moment, exchanging glances and quick smiles. And then the waitress returns with your plates.

- Are you ready to save the world again, Wandy? - you ask with a light irony in your voice before tasting your ceral.

Wanda smiles.

- Of course, of course. - She answers with humor. But her expression slowly falls, as if she is remembering something. You look at her with curiosity and concern.

- Are you all right?

- I just... - She begins. And then she straightens her posture, and diverts her eyes from yours. - What happens next? - You frown uncomprehendingly. Wanda looks unsure. - After we finish the job. This ends too?

You swallow dryly, feeling embarrassed and nervous. But you do your best to avoid showing it.

- Do you want it to end? - You ask.

- No. - She confesses as she looks into your eyes.- I'd like us to continue together.

- I'm not going anywhere, Wanda. - You assure her with a smile. And then you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling anxious. - Don't you... don't you wish you had a fixed place to stay?

Wanda blinks in confusion, looking surprised at your question.

- I just... I love the road and all. Mostly because you're with me. - You say, and don't notice her blush at the last sentence. - But I'd like to have a house. Especially now that we're going back to work. I wouldn't mind living in New York.

- Are you inviting me to move in with you? - Wanda asks with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment, and you feel your face heat up.

- Yes, I ... I'd like that. - You say, and seeing Wanda's surprised expression, you hasten to add. - But I understand if you just want the road! That's fine, I'll stand by you too!

Wanda reaches your hand quickly over the table, and she has a huge smile on her lips.

- I would love to live with you.

- Oh. - You sigh ruefully, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your back. - Cool.

- Cool. - Wanda repeats with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye.

And then you go back to eating in silence.

You are in the passenger seat while Wanda hums a song along to the noise of the radio. It is dark and she is waiting for the first motel she can find to park. And you look at her, looking so good, and comfortable, and happy. And your brain is screaming how much you love her in an endless loop, while your heart threatens to explode in your chest.

So you think you'd better face the landscape because you're getting out of breath. But then Wanda is parking the car on the roadside, and you think maybe she's going to pee, but then she doesn't come out. You turn and find her gripping the steering wheel with both hands as she looks ahead.

- Hey, what happened? - you ask worriedly. Wanda closes her eyes.

- I read your mind.

The confession shocks you immediately.

- W-what? - You retort with a trembling voice.

Wanda opens her eyes, and lets go of the steering wheel. And she has a tender expression to calm you down.

- Hey, it's okay, I...

- No.

You mumble breathlessly, holding back tears, as you quickly unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car.

You think you finally blew it. Wanda knew, and this was the end.

Leaning against the car, you hugged your arms as you tried to calm your breathing with your eyes closed. You were startled when Wanda touched your shoulders, not even having heard her get out of the car.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - You cried when she hugged you. Your body was shaking. - I tried to avoid it. I'm sorry.

- Stop saying that. - She asked softly, letting her hands caress your back to calm you down. - You didn't do anything wrong. - She tries to say it, but you hold her tight, afraid she'll be gone at any moment. - Hey, look at me.

Wanda asks a few more times before you let go, trying to control your tears. Only when you look at her do you realize that she too has a crying face.

- I don't want to lose you. - You whimper. - I'll control myself, I can send them away. And everything will go back to the way it was before.

Wanda denies it with her head, raising her hands to your face. You think she's going to say you both can't do this anymore, and your stomach flips.

- I love you. - She confesses, looking up at you. - I love you. - She repeats as she wipes your tears with her fingers. You're too shocked to react. - I love you so much.

And then Wanda kisses you. And you stumble with fright, but the car behind you won't let you move away from her body. And then your eyes close, and you surrender. A long sigh escapes your lips as you feel Wanda's tongue on yours.

And you kiss until you are breathless. And then your body is warm, trembling, and Wanda kisses you again, and again, as she presses you against the car.

And then you don't want to be dressed anymore, as Wanda lets her hands run all over you.

You don't separate your mouths as you fall into the back seat, Wanda on top moaning into your mouth.

The glass of the car is fogged as your hand slips on the window, trembling at Wanda's intimate touch, and delighting in the sounds she makes when you kiss her in all the right places.

You are happy. Fucking delighted. And you didn't want to keep driving, not unless it was to a house that was going to be yours and Wanda's. But Stephen and Sam were calling, saying that you were taking too long. Then you drove back to New York, and this time, Wanda's hand was entwined in yours.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda vision #wandavision au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #road trip au

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dreamifics · 3 years

Text

Steve Harrington x Reader

Casuality

Just some fluff, angst and smut

Warning: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activity, a little cursing

How did me and Y/N ended making out in my pool? Bad decisions and booze, that's the answer. I wanted it to stop, but it was good.. Too damn good. I can taste in her mouth the bitterness of the alcohol we drank a while ago. The mix of beer and vodka was still lingering in her mouth.

My hands run in her legs, as her hands tug my hair. There were fire igniting inside us, it was burning with lust and adrenaline. A low moan escapes her mouth, this added fuel to the fire inside us. We both knew that we'd regret this in the morning, but we didn't stop.

Y/N Henderson..

I'm close to her brother, but not to her. We fought monster beside each other, she was close to Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. But not to me, that's why I'm surprised when she arrived in my doorsteps, alcohol in her hands.

"Hey, Steviee!Wanna run around town and get smashed?"

She caught me off guard but I agreed, I was always intrigued by her. I never noticed her in high school but she seems to know everything about me.

"Oh, come on!Steve!I'm not stupid!I know you use that shitty shampoo and conditioner!"

"It's not shitty!It's the real deal!"

"Whatever, let's go back to your house and take a dip in your fancy pool!"

My mind snapped back as we moved to my bed, Y/N's heavy breaths and low moans was all I could hear from her. We drop in my bed, we knew were going to spend all night here. The sheets wrapped around our naked bodies, legs entangled with each others. Moans filling the room, sweats dripping from our hot naked body. We were drunk and stupid. Sobriety and rational thinking was out the window. This night was filled with bad decisions and bad decisions only.

Days have passed since that night, we decided to continue the relationship but we're keeping it casual. We're now sitting in my car, music blasting on the stereo on a low volume. She was looking blankly on the window as I drive her to campus.

"What are you thinking about?" I questioned, snapping her out of her trance. She smiled at me as she relaxed into the passenger seat.

"Whatever your thinking about.."

"Dustin moaning really weird last night?" I joked causing her to glare at me.

"No, but now that's what I'm thinking.." I chuckled at her response as I paid attention to the road.

"Hey, do you want to have a sleep over tonight?"

"Sleepover?What are you ten?Do you also want to braid each other's hair and have a pillow fight?" Her witty remarks always get me laughing, that's one thing I like about you Y/N..

"Come on, we're not gonna be sleeping anyway.." I pleaded.

"Ooh, Stevie gonnna give me the lovey dovey!" She said in a baby voice. Gotta admit, that was weird as hell.

"Oh dear god.." I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that Harrington?" Her glares could literally kill someone, I just gave her an innocent smile, she just rolled her eyes.

"Nothing.."

"I'll see you tonight, then.."

A comfortable silence filled the ambiance of the car, if I know Y/N and I think I do, she'll try to rummage her brain for something to talk to--.

"What was Dustin moaning about?" There it is..

"Oh dear god.." I just shake my head in amusement.

The first time I had ever seen you cry was the day we got home from campus, snots and tears were everywhere. I never saw you cry, even when we almost died twice while trying to save the world. Not a one single tear, but now your here infront of me. Tears in your eyes, as you sobbed into my chest. I don't know what to do, should I comfort you?

"What happend?" I finally asked the lingering thought in my head.

"I saw Dad with his brand new family.."

Y/N's father..

I never really met him but to what I gather from Y/N and Dustin is that he's a coward. He left his family to be with another woman.. Putting the three of you to emotional trauma and abuse.

"I'm sorry.." That's all I could say..

"After all what he did to Mom and Dustin, he have the audacity to be happy while Mom cover up the pain with cats.."

"I hate my dad, I swear if he ever comes back, I'll feed him to the demogorgons.. Why does this always happen to me? Can everything be just fine again?"

I hate seeing her like this.. What should I say? I can't really relate to her, my parents still stood by me.

"I'd do whatever I could do, if you want to get wasted, I'll do it with you, If you want to burn your dad's house, I'll be down with that. Just don't cry, I can't stand seeing you like this."

A small laugh erupted from her, moving beside me, she lay her head into my shoulders.

"Thanks for the reassurance Harrington.."

"That's what I'm here for.."

"Come on Steve, let's make out in your pool.." Y/N stands up, and gave me her hand, I gladly accepted it.

"Why do you have to ruin the mood?"

"How's that ruining the mood?If anything, I'm building the mood." She said in a sultry and teasing voice. I rolled my eyes, does she think I'll get turned on by that. She was crying just a moment ago, she was releasing snots.

"I think you have daddy issues, love.." It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"We all have daddy issues.." I grab her cheeks and peck her lips.

"We both have daddy issues, then." She just gave me the most precious smile that ever existed.. Oh, God. How I love you.

The first fight we had was also our last, it was your birthday. We were hanging out in your room, laying in her bed as the television played Star Wars. The pale moon was dancing all throughout the room, I knew there was something bothering me, we've been doing this for months, keeping everything casual. I'm growing tired of the constant thought that someone will take her away from me.. Don't get me wrong, I love Y/N, I'm not sure how she feel about me though. Y/N's like a close book, hard to read. So many things that I wish I knew, but there's so many walls that I can't break through. ( Where the swifties at? )

"Are you okay?" Y/N soft voice pulled me out of my head.

Am I really okay?No, why? I want us to be in a committed relationship, where someone can't take you away from me. That's how much I love you..

"Nothing, just thinking about us.." A small smile tugged in her lips as she scoot closer.

"What about us?" She asked, her brows wiggling.

"Being casual and all.." The smile she had falter, she moved away from me, running her hands through her hair.

"You know I'm not ready yet.."

"You always say that."

"Steve!I can't have this exact same conversation with you over and over again!" And here we are, fighting.. The anger inside me flicked open, I know it won't do good but I still went ahead and got mad.

"Why can't you say it once?!" Our shouts echoed through the whole house, her Mom is probably worried about her.

"What can't I say?!" She asked confused and angry at the samw time.

"That you love me!" The whole room suddenly got quiet, the look in Y/N's face was hard to read. Are you shocked? Scared? Angry? What? Do you love me like I love you? Please, say the words that I want--no, what I need to hear.

"Steve, we both know that we agreed to keep things casual.." She finally spoke, but not the words that came out was not what I needed.

"Casual?We've been together for almost a year now, how much more casual do you want it to get?"

"I--Steve, I can't do this now.." She backs away from me, opening her door wide open for me to leave.

"Why?" That's all that exited my mouth..

"Because I need space!" She snaps, a involuntary scoff left my lips.

"Space from what?!We barely have a relationship!"

"Just get away!I can't believe your pressuring me!" She shouts, but I stayed to say the words I'll regret..

"Let's just end whatever the fuck this is!"

"Fine!" She screamed as she walks up to me and pushed me out of her room.. Reaching the end of her door, she pushed me. I stumbled but managed to bounce back, before I can even say another word she slammed the door. And there's that..

"Steve?" Dustin came out of his room, a worried expression painted in his face.

"Are you and Y/N okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a--" I stopped at the middle of the sentence, my mouth refused to let the words escape.

"A what?" He questioned.

A break up..

"Nothing, it's nothing.." I lied..

I didn't know why I couldn't say the words. I clearly never wanted this to happen, I didn't know what happend. And I can't take it back, what's done is done..

Life with Y/N was hard, but life without her is much harder. Was I in the wrong? I shouldn't have pressure her, all I wanted is to go up at her house. But Dustin told me, she was really busy with a lot of schoolworks. Where did it get so complicated?

I was walking home when I saw Y/N, just standing in my porch front step. She seems fidgety and nervous, those sweet eyes seem to notice me. Y/N was wearing one of my Van Halen shirts, with a short and just some sneakers. You always looked beautiful in my shirts..

"Steve.." I love how she says my name, but I love it more if she screams my name. Flashes of her naked body grinding on me suddenly appeared on my head. This was not the time but I couldn't help it. I miss her..

"Hey.." I greet..

"I just wanted to--"

"I should be the one apologizing, I shouldn't pressure you like that.." I cut her off, I'm right. There's no need to apologize, I was in the wrong. I pressured her when I agreed to keep it casual.

"Still, I'm sorry too.." Y/N was always nice, never letting her pride get in the way of her life.. An eerie silence once filled our conversation, I never wanted this but maybe..

"Maybe it's best if I give you the space you nee--"

"I love you.." She cuts me off..

"Huh?" My mind went blank, my eyes blink rapidly as I try to sink in the three words you just dropped.

"I don't need space, I love you Steve Harrington.." She confessed cheekily, a small smile appeared on our face.

"I love you too.." She just smiles at me, but she was waiting for something. What is it? A ring, maybe? But this is not a proposal..

"What are you waiting for?Kiss me."

Ohh, right.. The way I moved was slow, I think she grew impatient because you pulled me and our lips collided into one. The way your lips was covered in the strawberry chapstick I gave you, this was my favorite thing in the world. I slid my tongue, it danced with yours. I pushed you in my door, opening it in the process.

When it burst open, we celebrated by going into my bed. Pushing Y/N into the bed was pretty arousing. We didn't need words or foreplay, we're pretty straightforward. Our lips once connected again, heavy breaths and low moans was all I could hear.

We slowly undressed each other, our lips was still intact, rushing into things was never really your motto. I felt your skin made contact with mine, I felt the heat from your body. My hands were making their way to her tender breasts, I slowly massaged it until the nipples turned like tiny stones. A loud moan came out from her mouth, I couldn't resist and licked them, biting them playfully. Another moan came out from her sweet lips, I stopped as I took out my hard and mounting manhood, I rest it unto her thighs. Y/N sits up, looking at me with questions in those eyes.

"What happend?You got tired?" Y/N whisper in her sultry voice.

"Taunting me?Really?"

Before she can even respond I got on top of bed and smirked, your naked body was softly laying in my bed. This made me harder, you're so perfect in every way. My hands are already in your legs, spreading it wide and open. I can see you closing your eyes at my touch, I drove my two fingers inside her. She moans with the contact it made, eyes rolled in the back of her head. I ravish her breast with my mouth as my fingers interact inside her.

"Fuck, Steve!"

I was hitting the right places, she was twisting left and right, her hands were gripping my sheets, I pulled my fingers out and replaced it with my organ. A loud piercing moan escapes her lips as I pump into her, every thrust was in sync with her breathing. I slowly grunt as I pump harder and deeper into her, I yank her legs back, as my other hand gripped her ass. I dug myself further into her, setting off another shattering moan.

"Steve, faster."

I increasing the speed, she wrapped her arms around my back, her nails digging into my skin. Pain and Pleasure was a great mixture for me. I hit every possible spot inside her, the nails dug deeper as I thrust harder and much more deeper. The speed increased once again, as I feel both of our climax building up inside, it can explode any second now. Every thrust I make, every moan she screams, and every sweat that drips was a cherry on top.

"Fuck, I'm coming!"

With that we both exploded into each other, I felt a warm liquid flows between her legs and mine. A small smile appeared on her lips as we were both out of breath, her hair was all disheveled.

"Well, that was fun.." She whisper, her voice hoarsed from all the moaning she did.

"I can see.." I joked causing her cheeks to blush..

"Shut up!"

I pulled out, she shivered at that action. I laid next to her, she looks at me with love and compassion. She pecked a kiss in my lips, cuddling besides me as the moon peaked through my windows. Y/N deserves every love and adoration in the world, I'm going to marry you someday..

This is my first smut ever, I hope it was..nice? If there's anything wrong I did in the smut, you can tell me, I'll do anything to improve it! I also accept request, any characters! Marvels, DC, B99, FRIENDS, Criminal Minds, TBBT, Community, basically anything! I accept anything! You can leave a comment or give me an ask!

Taglist

@sydneekomspacekru

#steve harrington x you #imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #smut #steve harrington smut #oneshot

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lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

Text

Insistence

Summary: Loki is being stubborn even when injured, not wanting help for fear of seeming weak. You ignore his protests and tend to him anyways.

Pairing: Loki x Field/Combat Medic!Reader

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings/Disclaimers: Mild violence. Injuries, burns. I don’t go into gory detail. Minor character death alluded to.

A/N: This one took longer than I anticipated. I wound up rewriting it midway through. The whole combat medic has been on my list of ideas for a while with only the most basic idea in my head. Once I start writing, it veered off in a different direction.

Masterlist

“I do not require your assistance, Mortal,” Loki spat, his voice lacking the venom it was usually laced with especially when you were trying to do your job.

You scoffed, gently dabbing at the tiny lacerations on his cheek. “Well, you’re getting it anyways. What kind of field medic would I be if I didn’t help everyone on the team?”

He scowled as you brushed a rogue ribbon of inky hair behind his ear so you could make sure you didn’t miss anything. In truth, this was the first time he didn’t continuously insist on pushing you away. There was always something about him not needing your treatments or someone else needing to be tended to first - Any excuse he could use to deny help. Then again, there was nowhere for him to run this time.

Either Fury’s intel had been wrong, your team’s plans had been leaked or both. The HYDRA base you all had been sent to had been overstocked in both operatives and ammunition. Even with the legacy team that accepted Loki almost half a year ago, you weren’t prepared.

Nat had been the worst, immediately being taken down when she attempted to infiltrate the base. That was when the HYDRA members started spilling out from within and around the base. With the rest of the team providing backup, Clint was able to help you lug her back to the Quinjet where you cleaned the deep gash in her side and stitched her together again. Of course, Clint wasn’t going to stand down. He stayed by the ramp, firing arrow after arrow to keep some of the heat off his companions. You wound up having to patch up his bleeding leg while he continued to fight.

Steve was the next to return. He collapsed in a seat as you reached him. Bruised and battered, he was mostly alright save for the possibility of some broken ribs. Tony crashed-landed onto the ramp, the metal of his suit screeching and scraping as he skidded inside. He was in the same boat as Steve along with his suit quickly losing power. There wasn’t much left he could do. Thor lumbered backwards into the Quinjet, Mjolnir still boomeranging out into the field to take down what enemies he could. With the God of Thunder standing guard, Clint disappeared to the cockpit.

The engines whirred to life. “Okay, guys! Jet’s primed and ready for take off. We got everyone?” Clint called out.

You took a look around, hearing the engines ready themselves. Thor cursed under his breath as he continued throwing his hammer. Where was… Oh… Oh no.

Shoving the cotton ball doused in antiseptic into Tony’s hand, you peeled away from his side and hovered near Thor. Against the bright white snow, a twister of black, green and gold ferociously danced. Loki was still out there.

“Do NOT take off yet!” you hollered back.

With a huff, you opened a hidden compartment and pulled out a sniper rifle along with its tripod. After piecing together the barrels, you attached the small tripod and settled on the floor, taking aim in Loki’s general direction. You popped off a couple rounds onto any of the HYDRA agents who dared try to catch the mischievous god off guard.

Tony shuffled to his feet, cursing when he realized just what was happening. By this time, he had removed himself from the drained Iron Man suit. “Trade places, Legolas! Reindeer Games is still out there!” He dashed to the cockpit.

You fired again, this operative having gotten too close for comfort. Loki had turned just in time to see opponent drop dead at his feet. With a near indiscernible nod that could only be seen through your scope, he carried on, slowly making his way to the Quinjet.

Despite his own injury, Clint was swiftly back at your side. With the extra backup, an exhausted Thor was able to make it off the ramp, farther into the fray and meet his brother halfway. Clint and you kept the path clear enough for them to rush back. It was stunning to see how well they could work together when they needed to.

The moment they were in reach of the ramp, you leapt to your feet and with Clint pulled the exhausted brothers on board. The ramp lifted as you tugged Loki into sitting, and the Quinjet took off. So, here you were, attempting to take care of the trickster’s wounds after having checked on Thor.

“I am a god,” he sneered half heartedly. “I will heal quickly. This is unnecessary.” He winced lightly as the antiseptic stung his cheek.

You sighed, “Any one can heal those cuts, but just because you can do so faster than the rest of us, doesn’t mean you are impervious to infections. Just less likely to get them.”

He went silent at that, either realizing you were right or just not desiring to argue further. Done with one side, you swapped to the seat on the other side of him. With a clean, freshly wetted cotton ball, you gingerly began cleaning his other cheek. All things considered, Loki didn’t look too bad. At least, not as bad as he could have. With your freehand, you coaxed him to lift his chin up so you could tend to the lacerations on his neck.

“Why?” His voice was soft, just loud enough for only you to hear him.

“Why, what?” You copied his volume level.

“Why do you insist on this?”

You stopped your ministrations, raising your gaze to look him in the eye. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he looked back at you. Though he tried to hide it, his aventurine eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“Well,” you started slowly, carefully choosing your words. “You are a member of this team, and you should be treated as such.” Fingers still ghosting his chin, you guided him to face you. “You deserve the same treatment I would give everyone else.”

His brow furrowed as he studied you cautiously. It took him a moment before he finally spoke again. “Should that be what you wish to believe, it is fine by me.” You could hear the sharpness returning to his voice.

The god turned away, leaning back in his seat with closed eyes, effectively ignoring you. Now, you could have chosen to change seats, to move away from the cold attitude clearly directed at you, but you stayed. One, you were tired like everyone else and didn’t feel like getting up. Two, you were going to be stubborn and bug him with your presence.

Eventually a calm quiet enveloped the Quinjet, seeping into your bones. Feeling your eyes droop, you settled in your seat for as much comfort as you could get before drifting off.

You imagined hours had passed by the time you woke. Your muscles ached from the position you had fallen into, your neck being the worst. Tentatively rolling your shoulder, you tried to sit up and stretch only to find you couldn’t. Your head was resting you thought was the side of your seat, but there was a light weight keeping on top keeping you from moving. You opened your eyes to a shocking sight.

No, your sleeping position was a bit different from what you thought. Your makeshift pillow happened to be Loki’s shoulder. He, in turn, had his head on yours, probably having fallen asleep shortly after you. It seemed like he was still asleep, his chest rhythmically rising and falling in a way that could be described as soft. You could only imagine the tranquil expression on his face. There was absolutely no way you were going to look. You would probably move too much and wake him, and that would be the end of this little moment.

The rest of the team was asleep, save for Thor. Even with exhaustion drenching his body, he was wide awake, grinning like a madman when he realized you had caught him watching. How long had he bared witness to the scene unfolding? With a scowl, you pressed your finger to your lips, signaling him to keep quiet. He merely nodded, that knowing smile still plastered on his face.

The call you received from Maria shocked the lingering sleep from your body. A small team had been formed to infiltrate a hostage situation - a team that included Nat, Loki, Steve and another field medic whose name you hadn’t even had the chance to remember yet. The mission had soured once they reached the hostages. Everyone was being brought back to the compound for treatment. It was all hands on deck.

Quickly shucking your pajamas, you threw on a pair of scrubs and sneakers and made a mad dash to the Med Bay. The place was pure chaos. Most of the doctors and nurses were tending to the hostages in the main rooms. The team was near the back in separate rooms.

Spotting Maria who was attempting to direct people and bring some semblance of order to the wing, you rushed over to her. “Where do you need me?”

She flipped through the files on her data pad, not even looking up to see who she was speaking to. “Everyone has a medic taking care of them except for Steve and Loki. Start there.”

“Understood,” you nodded, leaving Maria to do what else was needed.

Down the hall, you took note of the injuries you could see of the various patients. Burns… Lots of burns… What in the world happened?

Passing by Nat’s room, she seemed mostly alright. She gave you a minute bob of her head that you reciprocated before meeting up with Steve. He had burns along one side of his body. Thankfully, the treatment would be minimal compared to some of the others.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a grimace as you began your work.

“How’re you feeling?”

He huffed out a tiny laugh, “Honestly, not terrible.”

With the top half of his suit tugged down, you gingerly cleaned and added ointment to soothe the wounds. “What happened out there?”

“One of the hostages… Well… He had an explosive… Saddled up to Trevor…”

Oh… The field medic… Oh god…

Steve sucked in a breath like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “Loki tried to contain it, but… We were all a little late in reacting.”

Your hands stilled. “How bad is he?”

The super soldier plucked the salve container from your fingers. “He’ll live, but if you’re really that worried about him, I can handle the rest of this.”

“You know him.” You tried to snag the container back. “He’ll come up with any excuse to not let us help him. If he knows I left you here, he’ll insist I leave him alone.”

Steve held it away from you with his good arm like a kid holding its younger sibling’s toy out of reach. “I doubt he will do that this time,” he smiled reassuringly, a glint of knowing shining in his eyes.

Leaning on the bed, you heaved a sigh. “You’re gonna drag me in there if I refuse, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he ended with a pop. “Now get going!” He shooed you away.

“Fine,” you groaned, playfully dramatic. “But you can bet I will be back later to make sure you did everything right.”

He let loose a chuckle. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Leaving Steve to his own devices, you went to the next room down the hall. The door was shut and the privacy blinds were closed. Was Loki hurt that badly that the others had to be hidden away?

With a quick announcing knock, you steeled yourself and pushed the door open, sliding in before silently closing it again. When you turned to face Loki, you were met with something you hadn’t quite expected to see. What burns still littered his skin looked as though they were mostly healed over, but that wasn’t the problem. With his armor off, you were able to get a good look at his arms and upper torso.

Blue. His skin was blue. Ridges meticulously adorned his arms, up his chest and even his face. It was such a stark contrast to his Asgardian form, yet it still suited him well. From unmarred, alabaster skin to decorated, indigo skin. Perfection in both forms.

“Loki?” you announced your presence as softly as possible.

His face scrunched as he squinted his eyes open to find you standing beside him. “Aren’t there others that need tending to?” The hoarseness of his voice betrayed the harshness he attempted to convey.

“We’ve enough staff to manage everyone well enough,” you shook your head with a smile.

Now that you were closer, you could see he was sweating profusely. His breaths were so shallow. Brushing away a locket of hair matted to his forehead, you found his skin warm… Much warmer than it should be. Instead of recoiling immediately, you laid your palm flush with his forehead. “You are burning up!”

You pulled away to pop outside the door. Waving down a nurse, you asked him to bring in as many ice packs as he could. What was currently stored in the room would not be enough. Returning, you pulled out all of the packs. You wrapped them in some towels so they wouldn’t directly touch his skin. Then, you placed them around Loki, hoping this would be enough until the nurse got back with you.

The god rested silently while you worked. It was only when you pulled up a chair next to him to keep an eye on his vitals that he finally spoke. “Why are you still here?” A sort of vulnerability leaked out of his voice.

“Because you need help,” you deadpanned, really not wanting this argument again.

“No.” His brow furrowed with frustration, ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. “Why haven’t you run yet?”

You brushed a little more of his tresses away from his face. “And why would I do that?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the monstrosity before you?” He scowled, still refusing to look at you.

“No, I don’t.”

He barked out a laugh that he immediately regretted. “Then what, pray tell, do you see?”

Reaching across for his cheek, you guided him to face you, receiving little resistance. His skin was still hot but not quite as much as before. “I see a person who risked his own safety to protect a bunch of civilians. There’s no way you could be a monster even with your jötun form.”

“So, you do know what I am…” A deep frown etched across his face.

“Yes… If it makes you feel any better, only a select few know. I have to know the medical histories of all the Avengers if I’m to treat them in the field.”

Silence…

“And for what it’s worth, this,” your thumb graced the apple of his cheek, “is not scary in the slightest.”

His eyes searched yours frantically for any hint of dishonesty. A trembling hand raised and settled on yours, pressing it further on his face. His lips parted to speak but was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

With an apologetic smile, you slid your hand from his grasp. The nurse from before had returned with the ice packs. A quick “thank you” and you brought the tray in the room, shutting the door behind you. Just as you had before, you surrounded him with the new packs. Loki’s chest rose and fell more deeply as he cooled down even further, skin morphing into a pale sky blue and eyes returning to the bluish-green you’ve come to know.

“Well, you’re at least responding quickly. How do you feel?” You hovered at his bedside.

He locked eyes with you again, a cocktail of emotions swirling about despite his attempts to keep a straight face. “I-” he cleared his throat. “Better…”

“Good, good…” Your hands fiddled with the sheets. “Is there anything you need?”

Loki’s lips pursed, and he swallowed thickly. His digits brushed against yours, halting your nervous tick. “Stay?”

“Of course,” you breathed.

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards as you glided your fingers into his palm like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, giving his hand a light squeeze. You pulled your seat closer and sat back down.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Loki raised your hand to his face. His lips grazed over your knuckles as he whispered, “Thank you…”

“Anytime.” And you meant it. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

He let your entwined hands float back down to the bed as he chuckled. “If that’s the case, I do hope you are well prepared.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirked. “And just how long do you plan on keeping me around?”

“For as long as you will have me.”

Little did either of you know, Thor had come to the Med Bay to check on Loki after he heard the news and was listening to the conversation through the closed door. He decided to leave you be for now. The congratulations and light teasing could wait until tomorrow.

Tag List: @nahthanks

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chrisbitchtree · 2 years

Text

April Prompt Challenge Day 11 - Brass

Full prompt list here

***

Steve had first met Billy Hargrove on the first day of music class in the 7th grade. They’d both been late to class, having trouble navigating their way around a new school, and by the time they were seated, the only unclaimed instruments were a pair of trumpets. Shrugging their shoulders, they grabbed them and sat next to their classmates holding tubas, trombones and French horns, completing the brass section.

To their surprise, both Billy and Steve ended up falling in love with the trumpet. Even while he was in middle school, Steve’s parents frequently left Steve alone, so he and Billy used his big empty house to practice after school. Despite not having much else in common, Steve felt like he’d found a best friend in Billy. They spent all their time together that year, practicing their instruments, studying, and raiding Steve’s fridge.

***

Things stayed much the same through the 8thgrade, with the addition of joining band together. He was almost always in Billy’s company, whether in class, in band, or practicing their craft before hitting Steve’s couch for a movie marathon. They were the centre of each other’s universe.

Things changed the summer after 8th grade though. Billy’s mother passed away suddenly from cancer, and Steve tried helping his friend through the grieving process, but he could only take so much of Billy shoving him off before he snapped one night, in a move he’d never stop regretting. He’d invited Billy over to swim in his pool the next day, thinking maybe something fun would help keep his mind off things.

Billy rebuffed his offer. “Sorry, Steve, but I’m busy, I can’t.” He didn’t give Steve a chance to try to persuade him, hanging up the phone without a goodbye. Steve was miffed. Fine, if Billy didn’t want to hang out with him, then he didn’t want to hang out with Billy. He stopped calling the Hargrove residence, and Billy never reached out.

***

When school started back in the fall, Steve again had band with Billy, along with gym and science, and they were friendly enough, but things never went back to the way they were. Billy started hanging out with Tommy Hagan and his girlfriend Carol under the bleachers, and Steve found his own crowd, hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and her group of friends. They talked about politics and old books, and while Steve was glad for the company, he missed how fun any easy things had been with Billy before that summer.

Sometimes, Steve would see Billy looking at him, from across a party or the basketball court, and he’d wonder if Billy missed him too. He’d never know though, so he had to move on. He started dating Nancy at the beginning of their sophomore year, and he heard a lot of rumours about Billy and a lot of people, but he decided that he didn’t want to know what was true and what wasn’t. Even though he’d started sleeping with Nancy, a part of him felt sad and a little jealous when he thought about Billy with other people.

***

He continued to only talk to Billy in band, until one day in October of their junior year, when he caught Billy with his shirt off, changing when he clearly thought everyone else was long gone. Steve had stayed behind to talk to the coach though, so he’d found Billy with his shirt half raised, exposing a large purple bruise in the shape of a boot on his back. Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. It was huge and looked painful. It had to be Billy’s father. Billy had alluded to him being a bit rough, but Steve never imagined something like this. “Billy…” he started, before the other boy cut him off. “Don’t, Steve. Forget you saw anything, ok? Please.” With that, he shoved his gym clothes into his bag and stormed out of the locker room.

He had no clue what to do. He knew it was Billy’s private business, but it didn’t feel right to not tell anyone. He called the police station that afternoon with an anonymous tip, and soon after, he heard that Billy had been removed from his home and was living with the chief of police. Steve knew he’d done the right thing, but the look on Billy’s face the first time Steve saw him afterwards didn’t leave him too sure.

Eventually, Nancy broke up with him, and while Steve agreed that they’d grown apart, it left him feeling lonely without Nancy’s group of friends to hang around with. He noticed that Billy had also stopped hanging out with Tommy less, which Steve assumed was the strong influence of the chief. They were stubborn teenage boys though, so they still avoided each other unless it was necessary.

***

Everything changed at the beginning of their senior year. He and Billy had always been the only two trumpet players and they were perfectly in sync after years of practice, but that year, a transfer student, Robin Buckley joined the brass section on trumpet, making their little duo a trio. In order for the three of them to play smoothly together, it required a lot of practice. The three of them would meet up at Steve’s after school, and eventually, it started to sometimes extend to Billy and Robin staying for dinner or a movie, or they’d go out to the diner in town for milkshakes and fries after playing at a football game.

Over the years, Steve had forgotten how fun hanging out with Billy could be. The other boy was hilarious and fearless, and it was enhanced by having Robin around. They would play off each other, leaving Steve in fits of laughter. Plus, Billy had started to fill out in all the right places, and Steve couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed the way the muscles in his arms bulged, or how his ass and thighs were highlighted by his tight jeans. It must have all been in front of Steve’s eyes, but he’d failed to notice. Now that he had though, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the other boy. Thoughts of kissing him consumed Steve, especially when they would watch Steve’s favourite romantic comedies. He wanted that with Billy.

He started to find himself insanely jealous when he’d see Billy and Robin sneaking off to talk in private, or he’d call up one of them and realize they were already hanging out together. Maybe Billy and Robin were together and just didn’t know how to tell him. The thought made Steve sick.

One night, the three of them were sitting in Steve’s hot tub, drinking his father’s liquor, when Steve suddenly worked up the courage to talk about the elephant in the room, their obvious relationship. “You know, I’m really happy for you two,” he said, after taking a swig of whiskey. Both of them looked at him like he was crazy.

Billy squinted at him. “What the fuck are you talking about, Harrington?” He waved the bottle around, vaguely gesturing at the two of them. “You know, you guys are dating. And I think that’s great. I hope you’re happy together.” Robin burst out laughing, not stopping until she was wheezing and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. Finally, she could talk. “Oh Stevie, poor misguided dingus, I’m into chicks, and Billy…” she stopped when Billy glared at her. “I’m going to go inside and get something else to drink.”

She grabbed her towel and quickly headed inside, leaving Steve alone with Billy. He turned to the other boy, with confusion written all over his face. “What’s going on, Billy? What was Robin going to say?” Billy slid closer to Steve, leaning in until his lips were right next to Steve’s ear. “She was going to say that I’m in love with you. And I am, Steve. I always have been.” Then like something out of a movie or his dreams, bathed in moonlight, he slipped his hand around the back of Steve’s head and pulled him in, pressing his lips softly to Steve’s. A perfect first kiss.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #robin buckley #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes #harringrove april #april prompts #harringrove fic

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mviswidow · 3 years

Text

not now, not ever

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2,172

TW: blood, R was stabbed, cursing

Summary: R and Wanda spend a month on a mission together, going from hotel room to hotel room and sleeping in the same bed. R gets hurt because she does something stupid and Wanda is mad at her, but they have a hard time staying away from each other.

You flinched away from Bruce when he cleaned the cut on your cheek with peroxide. “Sorry,” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away from Wanda talking to Steve at the front of the quinjet.

“It’s fine,” Bruce offered a small smile. His voice lowered, “You scared the shit out of her, (Y/n/n). I’m not surprised that she’s mad.”

“What was I supposed to do, let her get stabbed?” You scoffed. “You know me better to think I’d let that happen.”

Bruce nodded and sighed, “I know, I’m just saying that she was bound to be upset. You passed out in her lap, she called us crying. Wanda cares about you a lot.”

“I know,” Your eyes flicked back to Wanda, she’d been looking at you but quickly turned away.

You finally noticed that your hand felt warmer than it was a few minutes ago and you looked down at the cloth you’d been holding over the gash in your stomach. Your skin tight uniform shirt had been removed as soon as you got in the quinjet so Bruce could fix up what he could, leaving you just in your sports bra and tactical pants.

Bruce noticed, too, and left to get you a fresh cloth that hadn’t been bled through. He stopped by the driver's seat to talk to Steve for a moment and you watched Wanda frown at whatever he had said before all three of them turned to look at you.

Steve spoke first, “(Y/n) how do you feel about Banner giving you stitches in here?”

Your eyes widened and you watched the way Wanda tensed up.

Bruce looked confused and his head snapped towards Steve, “No, Steve that’s not what I-“

“Look at her,” Steve interrupted Bruce before he could finish. “No offense, kid, but you look horrible right now.”

You shook your head, “But Cho is visiting, isn’t she? She can just use her fancy skin plastic thing.”

“We’re still fifteen minutes out from the tower and you’ve already lost a lot of blood. You guys are so lucky this mission was just in Maine or you’d be dead, (Y/n).”

You heard Wanda sigh and shifted uncomfortably, “Okay, fine, does anyone have Advil or something?”

“You’re way past Advil already, (Y/n),” Wanda rolled her eyes, and you didn’t miss the way she paused for the smallest moment before using your name instead of the sweet nicknames she would usually call you.

“Okay, whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

———

You limped out of the quinjet with your arm around Wanda’s shoulders for support, but you knew she was still pissed at you. She’d hardly said anything and you knew she was only doing this because Bruce and Steve were too tall, and she didn’t want you to rip out one of the stitches.

It was frustrating. Everything had been going so well. The mission went very smoothly up until the end, you and Wanda spent every day together without conflict, the two of you going from hotel to hotel and sleeping in the same bed every night.

There was obvious pining going on between you guys, but neither of you really wanted to address it. Not because of the fear of rejection, it was pretty obvious what you liked each other, even to the two of you, but the mission didn’t really seem like the most romantic time to start dating or the most appropriate time to have the conversation you both wanted to have.

It stung to see her so upset at you for something that you couldn’t not do. This was your job, and hers too, and you expected her to understand.

Steve wanted you on bed rest for the rest of the day and possibly the next two, but he knew you wouldn’t listen to him.

Wanda left your side as soon as Natasha came to find you, letting her help support your body weight, even though you insisted you barely needed help, a worried expression on her face when she saw the stitches on your stomach.

You spent most of the day with Natasha, except for when you went to go eat lunch in the kitchen while she left to train with Steve for an hour.

Your heartbeat sped up when you saw Wanda’s tearful expression as she sat on the kitchen counter eating a sandwich.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wincing when she jumped off and scoffed at you.

“Shut up.” Was all she replied.

“Can you stop it with your attitude already, Wanda?”

“You did this to yourself, (Y/n),” She said pointedly.

“Oh my god,” you laughed sarcastically. “What was I supposed to do? If it wasn’t me it would have been you, and you’re the one with powers. You literally took everyone out after I got stabbed so what does it even matter? We finished the mission, I just got stabbed, it’s happened before.”

“That’s the point, you don't have powers! I would have been fine-“

“Oh, please, you aren’t invincible, Wanda. You would have also almost bled out had it been you,” You rolled your eyes and opened the fridge to get a bottle of water and the container of strawberries kept in there, you planned on eating in the kitchen at first, but there was no way you were going to stay out here after this.

“Maybe, but I can clearly take care of myself well enough to not make stupid decisions that could kill me.” She retorted.

“Are you kidding me? I literally might have saved your life, you weren’t paying attention and you almost got stabbed, that’s on you,” you could hear voices down the hall from the direction you came in and realized that you probably should have eaten earlier because Steve and Nat were coming back from training.

“I didn’t ask you to, (Y/n)! This was so foolish of you, how do you not understand that?”

“Will you stop?” Your voice raised. “Stop acting like I’m fucking weak and inferior to you, Wanda. You would have done the same thing and we both know it.” You huffed and blinked at her for a second before turning around and retreating back to your room, pushing past Natasha and Steve, who were standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

———

At night, you lied looking up at the ceiling, quiet music playing from your phone. You glanced over at the clock on your nightstand and saw that it read 12:42 AM.

You sighed softly and clicked your tongue and snapped your fingers mindlessly for a few seconds before getting bored of that.

You heard footsteps outside your door in the hall and they seemed to stop when they got to your door.

As you reached over to your nightstand to turn off your music, the door opened and you could see Wanda standing at the doorway, the light from the common room illuminating part of her face. You could see the rest of it though, you kept a night light in your room, the darkness in it was too much to handle sometimes.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, Wanda’s lip caught in between her teeth. She was wearing the grey sweatpants you had given her for Christmas and the oversized graphic t-shirt the two of you shared at night while on the mission that had winnie the pooh on it.

“I heard the music when I was outside the door so I assumed you were still awake.”

You nodded, not really knowing what to say.

She looked nervous, like she thought you were going to tell her off or tell her to leave you alone. “I can’t sleep when you’re not beside me,” Wanda said quietly, and you swore your heart could have melted on the spot. You were still hurt because of the way she’d been acting towards you all day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask her to leave. Not when you couldn’t fall asleep either, probably for the same reason.

You slowly sat up more, trying to be mindful of your stitches, and still annoyed because if Cho had just used her cradle you would be fine by now, and scooched over on your bed so Wanda would have space.

At the soft expression of relief that washed over her features, your heart ached. She closed the door behind her and looked at you with teary eyes before clearing her throat quietly and getting into bed beside you.

It only took a few seconds for you guys to get situated. You brought yourself back down and laid on your back, slightly annoyed that you didn't feel well enough to sleep on your side.

You felt Wanda looking at you and sighed, “I don’t bite, Wands.”

With that, Wanda moved closer to you and settled between your chest and your arm, once you lifted it so she could be right at your side. She tangled her legs in yours and carefully draped her arm over your bare stomach the way you usually did when the two of you had spent countless nights cuddling during the past month. You were wearing a different sports bra, this one less tight, you’d attempted wearing a t-shirt earlier but the material rubbing against your stomach was bothering you too much.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds before you heard a soft sniffle come from Wanda. You gently rubbed her arm with the hand that had been behind her before speaking quietly, “You okay?”

Wanda shook softly and you felt a few tears fall onto your shoulder before she shook her head ‘no’, “I’m so sorry, (Y/n/n)” she choked out.

“It’s fine, Wanda. I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are,” She let out a whimper and you could swear that your heart tore in two. “I don’t have to read your mind to tell,” She paused. “I was really scared.”

You moved the hand that wasn’t rubbing Wanda’s side to her face to wipe away her tears and she looked up at you with bleary eyes before her lip began trembling and you sighed softly, squeezing her arm to let her know it was alright.

“When it happened, I - I started to panic and I didn’t know what to do. And you crumbled to the ground and laid in my lap and you looked like you were in so much pain and then you stopped responding to me and then you -“ She choked down a sob and her breathing stuttered for a moment. “You closed your eyes and I thought you were dead for a few seconds until I called Steve and he told me to check your pulse. I sat there for twenty minutes with your blood on my hands, and - and he told me to keep pressure on it and it just was so horrible (Y/n/n), all I wanted was to be able to talk to you and listen to you tell me that everything was going to be fine, but I couldn’t because you were dying and it was because of me.”

“Hey, no,” you chided. “Wands, this isn’t your fault, I swear to you. I’m still here. I’m just fine and I’m not leaving you. I’m sorry that you had to do that, it’s our job, but it isn’t fair. But I refuse to apologize for doing what I did,” She opened her mouth to talk for a second but you shook your head. “I have zero regrets, Wanda. I care about you more than you know and I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had been killed.”

“I understand. I get why you did it, and you were right, I would have done the same thing. You’re just really important to me and I can't bear to lose you. Not now, not ever. I was upset at myself because I almost let you die and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded, “I forgive you, bug.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile at the pet name you liked to use for her and sniffled, but the way she looked up at you with pure adoration in her eyes afterwards made your heart sing.

“It’s late,” Wanda hummed, letting her face fall into the side of your breast, her lips brushing against your skin as she spoke.

“I know, we can talk more in the morning. About us.”

You felt her tense up in your arms and started to worry, but you relaxed when you felt her smile.

“I would like that a lot,” Wanda nodded sleepily, moving her hand that was draped over you down so she could rub the skin below your stitches, far away enough for it to not cause any discomfort.

“Good,” You smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Good,” She repeated, and pressed her own kiss to your collarbone.

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