#go home and fuck Sharon
Note
what would POYT steve have done if he saw peter and his omega together before him and omega got together?
would he beat peter up?
would he have cornered omega?
Good question! I never thought about that before! I can imagine Steve would be caught off guard a bit, and he’d feel a lot of emotions at once. Mainly anger. Bc how dare this nerdy omega from his class be kissing and holding hands with some random skinny nobody boy??? Could she possibly have a boyfriend?
And it would really irk Steve but he wouldn’t understand why… he’d rationalise in his head that it’s bc an omega should be with an alpha… not whatever this random guy is. Yeah, that’s totally the reason why he’s so affected, it’s not like Steve’s jealous, pffft… definitely not jealous.
Then some juvenile behaviour would ensue. Steve would trip someone up and they’d go flying into omega, who would fall at the impact. Then Steve and co would laugh at her. Then Peter would try and stand up to Steve, and that would give Steve (and Sam and Bucky) a reason to beat Peter up😩
But it would end with omega cleaning up Peter’s wounds, and Steve feeling not nearly as fulfilled or happy.
#he’d try and suppress whatever longing he’s feeling#go home and fuck Sharon#except he’d press her face into the pillow#and right before he comes… guess who he’d picture is beneath him instead???#🤨🤔🤨🤔#is that a snippet of the Steve prequel???😳😳😳#hehehehe#not the Peter part tho bc steve finds out about Peter in poyt 1#anyways#poyt ask#smile1318
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Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ
“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things.
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home.
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again.
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did.
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away.
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you.
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul.
Holy Shit.
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer.
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare.
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you.
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it.
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner.
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve.
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement.
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again.
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen.
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly.
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.”
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar.
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid.
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table.
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City.
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted.
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat.
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.”
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.”
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible.
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends.
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction.
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them.
“You aren’t serious.”
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup.
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.”
“You’re rich, too, Sam.”
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.”
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.”
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now.
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked.
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation.
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great.
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite.
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule.
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do.
You knew better though.
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible.
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so.
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work.
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home.
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him.
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right.
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary.
It was worrisome.
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him.
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet.
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.”
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?”
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock.
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little.
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore.
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way.
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward.
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.”
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall.
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through.
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back.
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions.
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty.
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet.
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit.
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise.
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that.
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage.
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.”
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him.
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude.
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.”
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long.
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you.
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips.
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent.
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler.
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard.
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool.
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy.
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture.
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you.
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there.
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before.
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there.
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off.
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was.
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell.
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants.
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants.
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip.
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video.
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress.
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer.
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream.
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst.
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now.
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises.
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying.
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks.
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter.
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers.
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated.
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again.
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing!
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed.
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet.
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.”
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work.
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office.
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong.
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set.
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good.
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet.
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end.
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk.
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island.
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on.
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were.
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top.
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too.
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say.
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now.
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near.
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch.
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display.
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face.
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well.
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours.
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently.
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace.
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air.
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his.
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.”
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine.
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient.
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.”
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them.
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core.
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world.
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.”
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.”
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.”
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more.
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind.
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out.
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything.
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you.
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure.
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs.
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him.
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm.
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating.
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again.
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder.
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach.
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind.
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer.
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest.
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you.
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him.
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure.
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone.
“Good morning, Sharon.”
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head.
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away.
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant.
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as.
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker.
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful.
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning.
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts.
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m.
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything.
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud.
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was.
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly.
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom.
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard.
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated.
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off.
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by.
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead.
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin.
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra.
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you.
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them.
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat.
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right.
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.”
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist.
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much.
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you.
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation.
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 2
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Please read part 1 first if you haven't!
Summary: Living with Bucky Barnes just keeps getting more difficult, and it's been less than 24 hours. Now, he's unexpectedly sent out as backup on what was supposed to be your solo mission. What happens when you insist on putting yourself in danger, as you always do?
Warnings: profanity, mention of wet dream from part 1, teasing, strip club, mention of weapons (firearms), use of firearms, drive-by shooting, gunshot wound, jealous!Bucky, protective!Bucky, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: I'm sorry for the long pause since posting part 1 of this series! I got caught up with life and had a lack of inspiration for writing this, but I found some motivation/inspiration the last two days so here it is, finally. I'll be better about pushing out the next few parts of this in a more timely manner. If you'd like to be added to the taglist you can add yourself using this Google doc. Please use it responsibly.
You really thought an early morning run was going to clear your mind. You thought you could drown the details of the wet dream in sweat and pain and never think about it again. So, you were especially pissed off when the make-believe sound of Bucky making you ask for what you want began replaying in your mind with every step that you took down the chilly trails. Tell me what you need. As you continue along the dirt path, you can almost feel his hands on your thighs. Fuck. You know it means nothing. It was just a stupid dream. It probably only came about because you ran into him in the kitchen last night. If you’d run into a big, purple, infinity stone-wielding cretin in the kitchen you would’ve been just as likely to have a wet dream about that, right? Well, maybe not. But you can tell yourself that in hopes that it’ll ease your internal rage over having a wet dream about your new roommate.
An hour later, you’re catching your breath in the elevator on the way back up to your floor. You tug your hair out of its snug ponytail and run your hands through it, massaging your scalp with your fingertips. You’re planning to take a nice, long shower, lock yourself in your room and do a little prep for the solo mission you have later tonight, and then meet up with Sharon for lunch. You repeat the plan in your head over and over as the elevator slowly carries you upward. It seems like a solid enough plan to help you avoid Bucky for at least half the day. Or so you thought.
You’re as quiet as possible when you unlock the front door, unsure if Bucky may still be asleep or if he’s even home at all. Of course, the first thing you see when you step inside is Bucky, shirtless and in the kitchen yet again. He seems to love that little space beside the kitchen sink. The sigh that leaves your lips is a little more audible than you’d intended it to be, and the way Bucky lifts his gaze to your direction and raises an eyebrow at you lets you know that he not only heard it, but he wants to know what it was about. You didn’t mean to blurt the words out, you really didn’t. But the way he stood there both last night and this morning, looking so fucking hot that it makes your head spin and your cheeks feel warm…you just had to speak up.
“Do you ever wear a shirt?” You ask exasperatedly. You push the door shut behind you and lock the deadbolt with a resounding click. When you look back at Bucky once more, he’s fucking smirking. You’re simultaneously annoyed and turned on, and all you want is a cold shower.
“About as often as you wear pants.” He retorts. You don’t miss the way his eyes roam over your figure, taking in your slightly disheveled post-run look. He takes a sip from the glass of water in his hand as he wonders how the hell you still look so put together after a run. Your hair is down and somehow looks perfectly windswept, your cheeks and nose have the slightest pink tint to them from both the cold weather outside and the heavy exercise, and your leggings are hugging your legs and ass so tightly that you may as well be wearing nothing at all. His gaze makes you feel like your skin is on fire and it sets off alarm bells in your head. You need to get out of here. You make a beeline for the fridge, pulling it open and retrieving a cold bottle of water before quickly exiting the kitchen again, refusing to give Bucky a second look. Once you’re in the bathroom, you waste no time stepping into a cold shower as fast as possible.
Bucky remains in the kitchen for another minute, almost laughing at his current living situation. The man has had only the most minimal associations with women outside of a professional setting for years now, and he sure as hell doesn’t remember any pleasurable interactions with women during his time as the Winter Soldier. Now, he lives with one. And not even just that, but he’s fucking attracted to the one he lives with. He created his own personal hell by suggesting you and Vision switch rooms, and now he has to deal with it. He tries to tell himself that you’re just physically attractive. He’d never like you on all of the levels needed for a relationship. He can’t stand the way you work in the field, you’re too unpredictable and too willing to put yourself at risk. It’s beyond frustrating. He could never like someone who doesn’t seem to give a damn if they live or die. So, he’ll focus on that. He’ll focus on that one thing until he finds enough things to dislike about you to make his cock start listening to his brain again.
You shut off your cold shower and quickly towel yourself dry before wrapping the towel snugly around your body. You didn’t last more than three minutes under the icy stream of water, but it definitely did its job. Your stupidly attractive roommate is the last thing on your mind now. Or at least he was until you realize you were so rushed to get away from him in the kitchen a few minutes ago that you forgot to grab a clean change of clothes to put on after your shower. Shit. You’re freezing your ass off so you sure as hell aren’t going to wait around until you hear his bedroom door shut. Without giving it a second thought, you glance in the mirror to make sure that the towel at least covers your ass before pulling the bathroom door open and stepping out into the hall.
Fucking hell. As Bucky stands in the hallway staring at you, he can’t seem to remember the one thing that he was focusing on to help dissuade his attraction to you. All he can focus on now is the way the skin of your neck looks so smooth and soft, the way your neck transitions seamlessly down to your collarbones, and the way your collarbones draw his eyes further down to your chest. He doesn’t let himself look any further once his eyes land on the cleavage that’s just barely peeking out over the top of the towel. His eyes flit back up to your face and suddenly, you don’t feel like the powerless one here. You’d think you would be feeling like the powerless one, given that you’re standing here in a towel and he’s between you and your bedroom door, but you don’t. You noticed the way he froze when he saw you, the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing the curve of your neck and shoulders, and the way his eyes lingered on your chest a little longer than you would’ve expected. You have the power here. You straighten up a little and take a few slow, small steps closer to Bucky. He’s frozen right in between your two bedroom doors, so he’ll have to move out of your way or you’ll have to squeeze past him to get into your room. You’re sure he’ll move. You can feel your towel riding up your thighs and nearly exposing the curve of your ass with every step you take, but you fight the urge to tug it down, worried that the action would make you look insecure. Bucky stands firm in front of you, the eye contact between you two so intense that you wonder if he can see straight through you. God, you see why Sam calls him the bionic staring machine sometimes.
Just as you expected, Bucky turns and walks up to his own bedroom door once you’re just a foot in front of him. What you didn’t expect was for him to say something to you as you wrapped your hand around your own bedroom door handle.
“That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours.” His tone is calm and even but his words are taunting. You turn on your heel to see him standing in his doorway, facing you, and his blue eyes meeting yours instantly. You’re acutely aware of how short your towel is as it barely covers the curve of your ass, leaving little to the imagination. Apparently, Bucky’s well aware of it too.
“If you were nicer to me, you might’ve made it to three times, James.” You tease, pushing your bedroom door open and walking through it, refusing to look over your shoulder at him. It’s safe to assume he stole one last look at your towel-clad form before you shut your bedroom door and left him standing there with his cock as hard as it’s ever been.
---
Ah, fuck. Bucky rests his flesh arm on the inner wall of the shower and his forehead on his forearm, watching the water run into the shower drain at his feet. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you in that damn towel. Every time you took a breath, your chest would pull the towel up your thighs in the slightest bit. It was practically torture standing in front of you when you looked like that. He shakes his head and turns his chin up with closed eyes, letting the warm water splash into his face, trying but failing to wash the image of you away. He clenches his jaw and looks back down at his cock. Fully erect, and from what? Nothing. You barely did a damn thing. You just happened to be walking down the hallway in a towel, surely not even intentionally. You just forgot your clothes. But shit, the view from where Bucky stood is forever ingrained in his memory. The view and the way you said his first name like you liked the sound of it. He’d never heard you say his first name before. Hell, he liked the sound of it. But your fucking teasing? He didn’t like the sound of that. The way you insinuated, jokingly of course, that you would’ve continued finding ways to nearly show him your ass if he was nicer to you? Bullshit. This is all bullshit. Bucky desperately needs either a new place to live or a fan-fucking-tastic new method of letting off steam, before he says or does something stupid.
He wills himself to ignore his cock in the shower, and once he gets out and towels dry, he pulls on a clean pair of boxers and sweats. He utilizes the ages-old trick of tucking his boner beneath the waistband of his boxers so it won’t be as obvious when he inevitably runs into you again in the tiny apartment that you share. This time, he’s also sure to put on a t-shirt. Maybe him being fully clothed will inspire you to start wearing some pants. As he pulls the bathroom door open and heads straight for his bedroom, he thinks that maybe he should head out for the day, get away from here before he runs into you again and you have the chance to call him by his first name or nearly show him your ass for a third time.
You’re sitting on your bed, scanning dutifully over a few electronic files that Fury sent you regarding tonight’s solo op, when you hear Bucky finish up in the shower and quickly shut himself up in his room. Your mind starts to drift away from the task at hand as you replay his words from earlier in your head. That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours. Of course the little shit was keeping count. And the best response you could come up with was a tease. You scrunch your eyes shut and shake your head, attempting to clear your mind so you can focus on the mission details before you. This is not the time to be getting distracted. Tonight’s op is serious, and you’re going in with only two backup agents strategically placed in the club’s staff, so you need to be as prepared as possible and as on your game as you’ve ever been.
---
A not-so-innocent little black lingerie set adorns your figure, hugging your body in all of the right ways and accentuating all of your best features. You give yourself one last look in the tall mirror in your bedroom, making sure everything looks perfect, before pulling on a pair of black jeans, a black sweater, and then a black leather jacket over the top. You pull on a pair of sneakers before double-checking that your bag for the night is packed and ready. It holds a pair of black ankle-strap heels, body glitter, your most complimented perfume, your makeup bag, and a couple of choice weapons tucked away from prying eyes. You have everything you need to gain the attention of one particularly nasty underground vibranium dealer, Elias Leveaux.
In less than an hour, you’re downtown at the most high-end strip club in northern New York. It’s known for wealthy clientele, and it’s on SHIELD’s radar specifically because Elias is known to drop in at least once or twice a month. You’ve read enough about the guy to wonder why someone with so much money and such an illegal, secretive day job would choose to go to a strip club that’s more or less open to the public. You’d think he’d hire a few girls privately and enjoy his free time that way, but it’s like he gets off on the experience of being the richest, scariest guy in the place. So he goes, at least once a month, always sometime during the second week of the month, like clockwork.
The last thing you expected to see when you walk in the back staff entrance of the club is a text from Fury, letting you know that the plan for tonight has changed. It’s nonspecific and gives you absolutely no clue as to what might’ve changed, but you don’t have time to text him back and ask for clarification before you’re being directed to the dressing room and told that you’re supposed to be on the floor in less than five minutes. What the hell is Fury thinking?
Bucky initially thought that being called out for a last-minute op was a blessing. He thought it was exactly what he needed to get out of the apartment for a few hours and get his mind off of you. At least until he found out that the entire op centered around you. He breathes a heavy sigh as he stands outside the club, adjusting his black gloves and glancing at his watch impatiently. Sam is never late. Walker, however, doesn’t know how to be anything but late. Of course, Sam wasn’t going to be the one to wait around outside for Walker’s arrival, so he’s already in the club, seated somewhere at a table near the back wall to keep an eye on things. As Bucky continues to wait in the cold, he begins to wonder what kind of role you’re playing here tonight. Are you a cocktail waitress? A bartender? Fury didn’t give him much information when he called earlier, he simply said that the possibility of something going sideways tonight had escalated enough that he wanted extra hands on deck. Specifically, the undercover hands of the new Captain America, a super soldier, and America’s most hated: John Walker.
“I’ve got eyes on Leveaux, he came in through the private entrance on the west side of the building.” Sam’s voice reaches Bucky through his in-ear monitor, right as Walker is approaching.
“Sorry I’m late. Fury really doesn’t like to give us a heads up, does he?” Walker asks, clapping Bucky on the shoulder in greeting. Bucky shoots him a death glare and Walker quickly drops his smile and hand, remembering who he’s talking to. This is going to be a long fucking night.
---
When the lights go off and the crowd in the club gets quieter than it’s been for the last forty-five minutes, Bucky follows the turning of everyone’s heads to the stage. A few dancers have come and gone so far, a couple had the crowd going wild for sure, but whatever it is that’s coming next seems to have sucked the breath out of everyone’s chests as they sit on the edge of their seats with anticipation. Even Elias Leveaux has waved his henchmen away and he sits at his table close to the stage with all of his focus trained on the dark platform. When the lights on the stage turn on, they have a deep red hue to them. The low notes of a sultry song begin rumbling through the speakers in the club and as soon as the first bit of skin is visible on stage, Bucky’s mouth goes dry and his heart begins slamming against his ribcage.
Holy fucking shit. It’s you. You’re the girl that has the attention of every single man and woman in the club right now. You’re the girl dressed in the skimpiest little outfit that Bucky has ever seen. Even the bartenders across the room have their eyes on you. Bucky can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t think. You make it to centerstage and begin your routine seamlessly, transitioning from a suggestive dance in your heels to an all-out Magic Mike-level move that involves you crawling across the stage, perfectly in time with the music. When your eyes land on Elias, you maintain eye contact with him as you crawl forward, arching your back and flipping your hair over one shoulder. You watch as he adjusts himself in his seat and rests his right hand high up on his thigh, a tell-tale sign that he’s hard as a rock and it’s all because of you. You flash him an innocent smile before continuing your routine and scanning the rest of the club for his henchmen. You count two near the bar, and one near the main entrance. You’re two minutes in and nearly finishing up your routine, dragging your hands down your chest, over the see-through black lace corset that wraps around your ribcage, when your eyes land on the last person you need to be thinking about. Bucky Barnes. He sits at a table in the far back corner. You can’t even drag your gaze away from him long enough to see who else is at his table. Your eyes are locked on his as your skin heats up and the music fades away. He’s too far away for you to notice the way his jaw is clenched or the way a tent is forming in the front of his tactical pants. As soon as you’ve disappeared from the stage, Bucky stealthily adjusts his pants and composes himself before turning to Sam and Walker.
“What the hell? If this is what she does on all of those solo ops Fury sends her on, sign me up. I’ll be back-up for every single one.” Walker says, clearly not caring to hide his own arousal. Bucky imagines his fist colliding with the side of John’s face and it calms him a little before he speaks up.
“Say something like that again and watch where it gets you.” Bucky’s tone is like ice, sending a nervous chill through John Walker’s bloodstream and effectively softening the hard-on in his pants. Unfortunately, Bucky’s own hard-on isn’t going away. Sam isn’t paying any attention to the two men on his team, he’s instead focused on Elias Leveaux, who’s waving over one of his henchmen and whispering something to him. Bucky follows Sam’s line of sight and sees the same thing. The henchman quickly disappears backstage, going through a door labeled “staff-only.” This is either going to be exactly what you and Fury planned for or something that’s going to end badly, there’s really no in between. Your goal was to have Leveaux ask for a private dance, or at least approach you and make contact in some way. You need an in with him.
You’re just stepping into the dressing room backstage when a tall man dressed in all black, one that you recognize as an employee of Leveaux that was standing near the bar earlier, approaches you in a surprisingly professional manner. He keeps is eyes on your face, even though you’re still wearing an outfit that bares nearly your entire body for everyone to see.
“Miss, my employer would like a moment with you in private.” The man’s voice is low, and he keeps his tone hushed so the other girls in the dressing room can’t fully make out his words.
“Your employer?” You ask, easily playing dumb.
“Mr. Leveaux. He’s in attendance tonight and would like a moment of your time, if you’re free to meet with him now.” You pretend like you’re mulling over his words as you examine your makeup in the mirror.
“Should I change clothes?” You inquire, meeting the man’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He gives you a small smile and shakes his head.
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” His answer gives you plenty of information. Elias Leveaux is interested.
Ten minutes later, you’re in one of the private rooms upstairs with the most ruthless vibranium dealer sitting on a couch in front of you. You’ve just walked in and already, his gaze is ravaging your body. He’s basically removing every little piece of your lingerie ensemble with his eyes alone.
“Mr. Leveaux…” His name leaving your lips brings his gaze up to your face. You study him for a moment. It’s the first time you’ve seen him outside of surveillance pictures in SHIELD files. He’s characteristically attractive, with a chiseled jawline and perfectly manicured stubble decorating it. His hair is black, so black that it matches the tattoos you can see peeking out from the collar of his button-up shirt. Your job is always easier when the bad guys are hot as fuck. “What can I do for you tonight?” You ask, an air of confidence surrounding you as you play with your hair and lean against the wall across from him.
“Come closer.” He says, cocking his head and spreading his legs slightly on the couch. He oozes confidence and masculinity, in a way that nearly makes you blush. You obey his command, and as soon as you’re within his reach, he grasps your hand and pulls you down to sit on his knee. “Tell me your name.” You’re learning very quickly that he never ends anything with a question mark.
“I don’t get your first name?” You ask, letting your left hand rest on his shoulder as his comes to rest on your bare thigh. He studies you in silence for a moment, ghosting his hand back and forth along your thigh as you stare back at him. The dim lights in the room and sultry music playing through the speakers only add to the tension.
“Come home with me tonight and you get anything you want.”
You made the decision on a whim. Knowing that Fury not only has an entire surveillance team watching everything that’s happening in the club right now, but that he also has Bucky and whoever is with him on site, you’re not very worried about what might happen. So, this wasn’t part of the original plan, so what? You were supposed to do whatever you needed to do to gain Elias’s attention because you needed an in with him. You needed to become someone he trusted so that you could eventually gain access to his phone. The original plan involved him noticing you tonight, maybe paying for a private dance the next time he sees you at the club, where you’d have the chance to drug him and access his phone to get the names and phone numbers of a few of his contacts. But as soon as he invited you back to his place, you knew that you could knock out the entire possibly months-long op in one night. So, you decided to take the chance. You stand on the curb now, with his long black coat wrapped tightly around your frame since Elias didn’t give you time to go back and put your clothes on over your lingerie. You didn’t want to risk bringing your bag anyway, not with your gun in it. Though you feel naked while not having a firearm within arm’s reach, you imagine this night would take a turn for the worse if he or one of his henchmen went through your bag and found a government-issued one.
Bucky stands with Sam and Walker inside the club, near the exit, as Sam tries to decide what to do in this moment. Sam sure as hell doesn’t want to let you leave with this guy, but no one has come up with a good way to stop you yet, not without breaking your cover. Everyone knows how stubborn you are, but they also know how good you are at your job. If you’ve decided to go home with Elias Leveaux, it’s unlikely that anyone will be able to stop you, while simultaneously being likely that you’ll successfully finish the mission on your own tonight. However, by leaving with him, you’re going to be taking yourself far away from any backup, from any chance of rescue should anything go awry.
After a few more seconds listening to Sam and Walker argue about a plan, Bucky sees the glint of a black car pulling up to the curb in the moonlight, and watches with silent rage as Leveaux’s hand dips down dangerously close to your ass before he reaches to open the back door for you. Fuck it.
“Y/n!” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears so unexpectedly that you freeze. You hope that he knows that your cover name utilizes your real first name, otherwise he just attempted to blow your cover. What a fucking ass. You and Elias turn around at the same time, with Elias taking one look at Bucky and then immediately looking over at you, raising one eyebrow in question.
“Ex-boyfriend.” You mutter to Elias, thinking on the fly. “Just give me a minute with him, then I’m all yours.” Elias glances back at Bucky one more time before nodding at you and sliding into the back seat of the car. You stalk over to Bucky, doing your best to mask some of your anger, stopping just a few inches in front of him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Barnes?”
“Keeping you from getting yourself killed. You’re not leaving with him.”
“You might be a sergeant, but this isn’t the army and I’m not under your umbrella of authority.” You pair the words with a contemptuous stare, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. Bucky smirks at you and licks his bottom lip before shaking his head slightly.
“So, what then? You’re going to sleep with him, drug him, steal the info you need, and somehow get out of his house unscathed? With no backup?” Bucky asks. When he puts it like that, you have to admit that your plan does sound a bit foolish. But still, you won’t back down.
“Yeah, and you’re going to go back into the club and find someone else to take your orders, because it sure as hell isn’t going to be me taking them.” You spit back. You’re waiting for his next retort when his eyes flit away from your face, to the road behind you and a little to the left. He sees something. You’re about to turn your head to follow his gaze when suddenly his hands are on your hips and he’s spinning you around, slamming your back against the brick wall of the club. The long coat that Leveaux gave you earlier falls open just as Bucky presses his body firmly against yours, shielding you from the ricochet of bullets flying around the street.
You’re holding your breath. Bucky hasn’t felt your chest rise or fall even once in the last three seconds since he slammed you against the wall. He glances down at you and sees your eyes scrunched shut and your cheeks flushed.
“Breathe.” He whispers gently, his warm breath fanning over your face. You draw in a harsh breath at his reminder, and he feels your chest rise and push against his own. You both turn your head to the side as the dark car speeds off down the street, each of you quickly memorizing the make, model, and license plate number. Within a second after the first car has passed, Leveaux’s own car takes off after it. There goes your villainous one-night stand. “Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, still keeping you pinned against the wall. You shake your head, but feel something warm and wet against your right abdomen. When you look down, you realize it’s not your own blood turning your skin red, but Bucky’s, seeping through his shirt.
He’s been shot.
Next Part
TAGLIST (if there is a line through your user, Tumblr would not let me tag you)
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier
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Who is This? - How They Met
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Y/N talks about how she met James Barnes and how she found herself in the modern world. Follow on from this fic.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
"I'm sorry, what was that? Wife? You two are married?" Sam asked, looking between Bucky and Y/N.
"Indeed we are, aren't we darling?"
Y/N looked at Bucky first with a smile then with dead eyes. "I'm still pissed with you," Sam couldn't place her accent. It was a strange combination of Brooklyn, southern and English.
"Babydoll," Bucky sighed, as his wife got up from the couch and walked to the kitchenette.
"No. Don't you babydoll, me. I had two officers with a telegram in their hand as they flat out told me you had fallen off a train in the Alps of all places, whilst you were on some stupid mission with Steve, they never went looking for you, they simply declared you were missing and you were most likely dead."
Bucky's face falls, realising how much she had missed him after he fell off the train. After he had escaped to Bucharest, his memories came back in flashes - her face had always been there front and centre. He never had the time to sit Steve down and ask him about the gorgeous girl in his memories. It had taken another trip to the Smithsonian Institution - and that's when he saw her further into the exhibition, her arms in both Bucky and Steve's as she looked up at him in awe. Bucky and Y/N were married on January 15, 1941 - four weeks after Bucky signed up.
He gets up also, leaving the blanket which once covered them in a ball on the couch. "Sweetheart," he said softly.
"They told me on our fucking anniversary as well!" The tears couldn't be held back as they started rolling down her cheeks.
"It may be late, but happy anniversary," Bucky says, which gets a watery sob out of Y/N - who returns the sentiment.
Sam walks around the couple and into the kitchenette. "How long have you two now been married then?"
They looked at each other. "If you don't count the time we were separated, three years."
"And if you do?" Sharon asks.
"Eighty-three."
"Seems like I owe you a lot of anniversary presents. And birthdays, and Christmas..." Bucky trails off. "Seeming like I'll always be in debt to you, doll."
She shakes her head, "I have you here now. That's the only present I need."
"So how did you two meet?" Sam asks.
August 3rd, 1922
It was the first day at Brooklyn Heights Elementary School. Winnifred Barnes held her eldest son's hand as she took him to school.
Little James Barnes was terrified, it would be his first full day away from his ma, he didn't know anyone and he had a strong feeling like he wanted to cry (his father George had firmly told him men don't cry).
The mother and son duo were stood in front of a little peg, which had his name stuck to it, he was in between someone called Steve and someone called Y/N (the little girl had already taken her coat off - which her mother was hanging up for her, as she dug through her backpack on the floor).
"Y/N what have I told you about sitting on the floor like that?" Y/N's mother said, cupping her hands underneath her armpits and sat her on her knees.
"I can't find my crayons, mama!" Y/N exclaimed, looking up at her mama.
James looked down into his backpack and saw the small pack of crayons his father had brought back home one night. "We can share mine," he tells the little girl on the floor, sitting down next to her.
She looked at him with a big smile. Even at four years old, he couldn't help but think she was the prettiest girl in the world.
"That's how you got your girl? Crayons when you were four?" Sam asks.
"No, I had always known she was beautiful, but it took me a long time to persuade her for a date."
Y/N looked at her husband with a singular raised eyebrow. "You went from girl to girl with no consideration of their feelings. I didn't want to be put on the same list."
"Not a chance, since we locked eyes on that cold floor in elementary school, I have always been yours."
January 15, 1940
"Please, doll," Bucky nearly begged, as Y/N made her way around the counter at the local diner where she currently works. "Just one date."
"No, James, you can't ask me just because you don't have a date for the night."
Bucky sighed, he loved how she was the only one (apart from his ma when he annoyed her) who still called him James. "But, doll."
"And what have I told you about calling me doll?"
"I could take you to Coney Island," which was shut down saying that was his and Steve's 'place to hang out without her'. Bucky denied it, saying that it wasn't right that he and Steve spent time together without her. "What about the movies?"
"The three of us have already seen everything at the movies right now."
Bucky looked at the ceiling, as he fiddled with his ice cream float. "You don't want to go to Coney Island, we've seen everything at the movies and you don't want to go to a diner..."
He heard someone make a passing comment that the river in that park upstate had frozen over and was perfect for. "Ice skating! That's it, I'll take you ice skating!"
Y/N looked over at him, "Will it shut you up?" He nodded. "Fine, you can take me ice skating."
Bucky let out a loud cheer. "I promise you, you won't regret it, babydoll."
Bucky leaned over pressed a kiss to her cheek and ran out of the diner - he missed Y/N rubbing her cheek with a growing smile on her face.
"You were smitten with me?"
"Since day one, babydoll."
They shared a kiss when the door was pushed open by someone who looked like he had a homemade costume Steve used to wear. "What the hell?"
"Alright, that's it. Your time is up. Tell me where Zemo is," someone came storming in, dressed like Steve, shield in one hand as he pointed at the other people in the room. Y/N looked from Bucky to Sam to Sharon and then back to Bucky.
"We know you're hiding him," his sidekick added, crossing his arms.
The Captain America wannabe ordered them to turn over Zemo, which Y/N countered with a comment about the Captain America wannabe running his mouth.
"How did I miss you?" He flirts.
Y/N raised her eyebrow at him, then looked up at Bucky (who whispered into her ear that they were trying to get the shield back). "Give me a second," She puts on a look on her face and makes her way over to the Captain America wannabe. "Oh my God, is that the shield?" She could see him preen at her words. "Can I have a look at it?"
Stupidly, he hands her the shield, Y/N looks it over, and then up at him. "Thanks," and makes her way back to Bucky.
"What are you doing with my shield?"
"I think you mean, my shield. Considering that it technically belongs to me."
Captain America wannabe looked at her confused, what the hell was she talking about? "Who even are you?"
"Who am I? He doesn't know, James!" Y/N looked up at Bucky. "He doesn't know!" The couple laughed. "I'm Y/N, Steve's half-sister, and this muppet's wife."
"Wait, so how did you end up 80 years in the future?" Sam asks as the trio settles in for the night.
"Howard wanted to make another Super Soldier after the war after Steve had 'died'," she puts quotes around died, then turns her head to look at Bucky. "Yes, I know what happened to Howard and Maria," Bucky's face fell - she knew what he had done as the Winter Soldier(the war crimes he had committed had been plastered all over the news during his trial).
Sam looked between Bucky and Y/N as he asked. "What happened? I presume you volunteered."
She nods her head. "I did. But, something went wrong. They gave me the serum, and I remember collapsing to the floor and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the year 2019, Steve's face over the top of mine, tears in his eyes, saying he was so happy to see me."
"Steve knew you were alive?" Bucky asked, looking at his wife in surprise. There were about two weeks between the Battle of Earth and Steve went back to the past.
"I don't remember much from when I woke up, because I was falling in and out of sleep, for a long time." She says, looking up at the ceiling.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#james buchanan barnes#reader#bucky fic#bucky x female reader#follow up to previous bucky fic#People were asking for it#So ta da!
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can you write for Katie where her and reader have been dating for awhile and meeting eachothers parents and them getting on well :)
Meeting the Parents
Katie McCabe x reader request
-> Meeting your girlfriends parents goes better than you would have thought
-> @ anon I hope you like it!
-> Another short one
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Anxiety wrecked through your body as you stood in front of Katie’s childhood home – Today was the day you would meet her parents. With ten siblings it's hard to get them alone, but tonight everything worked out. Your girlfriend of five months wanted to introduce you to her family gradually, and not throw you into cold water, meeting all of them at once.
“What are the chances that you’d let me not meet them, then tell them I died or something and we can run away together and—”
“Breathe, baby. Please!” The Irishwoman couldn’t help but laugh, finding your nervousness cute, but she obviously already knew her parents, and you didn’t. “They’re gonna love you, don’t even worry your pretty little head about it.”
Instead of knocking like you wanted to, your girlfriend just pushed the door open. “Mum! Dad! We’re here!” her loud voice drowned the soft background music out, as two figures made their way towards you from the kitchen.
“Oh it is so lovely to meet you – look how pretty Gary!” Katie’s mum immediately started to fuss about you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug, before keeping you at arm's length, looking you up and down. “We need to get some meat onto ya!”
Wow. This was a lot.
But Katie couldn’t help but smile, watching her mum be so excited towards you and openly inviting you into her family home. Her dad gave her a firm pat on the back, obviously a lot calmer than her mum was – but he also pulled you in a quick hug, making you feel very welcome.
No ten minutes later after getting a tour of the entire home, the four of you were sat at the dining table – or rather Katie and Gary were sitting, while you insisted on helping Sharon carry the many side dishes and help cut the bread. It was delicious – a pasta mushroom ragout with incredible homemade bread, very hearty and filling.
Everything was going well and Katie admired the way you just fit in perfectly with both her parents. Sharon and you shared a passion for cooking and gardening while Gary admired your subtle and funny digs at his daughter.
“So what do you do for a living?” Gary had swatted at Katie to help her Mum clear the table, making you sit back down again, insisting that you had already helped enough and that your girlfriend was indeed able to do some work, even if she would try to convince you from other things.
“Oh, I’m a Bank Teller. I help our customers cash checks, withdraw money, move transactions to different accounts, create checking and savings accounts, and provide checks to customers – stuff like that.”
Both Gary and Sharon had wide eyes, that just screamed impressed – while Katie had that annoying, cocky smirk on her face as her hand rested on your thighs. “Told you she’s smarter than all of us!”
You could see where Katie had gotten her wit, humor, and compassion from. Her parents truly were incredible. Eleven children was no easy feat and all of them had grown to be lovely human beings. It made your eyes water a bit, hearing the parents brag about their youngest getting good grades and finding passion in drawing.
“Katie here was always a little special though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriend’s wide eyes – she was fucked. The conversation had turned from her sibling's embarrassing stories to her own and she knew it. “We once went to church, and the priest raised his voice at the end of his sermon, to emphasize his point. And because Katie here, wasn’t allowed to shout in the house, she stood up on the pews and yelled at the top of her lungs ‘Inside voice only!’ – the whole church laughed!”
Gary could barely tell the story, or get through the impression of his daughter without nearly dying of laughter – and you joined him. Katie could only watch you, mesmerized that you fit in so well, that she didn’t even care that her parents were just completely embarrassing her with story after story until your belly hurt from laughing so much.
The way out took at least thirty minutes, someone always found something else to say. You were sure that you had hugged Sharon at least five times now. “Okay! We’ll be off now!”
Once again you hugged both of her parents, whispering a small ‘Thank you for having us’ in their ears while Katie watched. “Oh get some leftovers, would’ ya?” And with that you were gone again, leaving your girlfriend with her father by the door.
“Do you like her?”
“I think I like her more than you.”
Katie scoffed. She could definitely understand her father, and she was happy that the evening had gone over so well.
Meanwhile, Sharon and you were in the kitchen, making a huge box of leftovers to take home with you. “Thank you for loving my daughter. You were one of us from the moment you started taking care of her.”
“Thank you for giving birth to Katie – and for welcoming me!” Both of you laughed through the tears at your clumsy statement.
You left Katie with her parents, already getting in the car to give them a moment alone. The night was cold and Katie’s coat only did so much to keep you warm, but the box of food still emitted a warmth. Not only because it was still hot, but also because it felt like home.
“I’m gonna be honest my love. Watching you guys together made me glad because I know you have someone when your mum and I leave this earth.” Sharon still had tears in her eyes, and now Katie did too.
“Don’t say stuff like that Dad, make you look old!”
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso#woso imagines#arsenal wfc x reader#katie mccabe#katie mc cabe x reader#katie mccabe x reader
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No Better Than My Husband
~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Readers husband is having affairs, so reader does the same
Word count: 1,513
Warnings: Angst and Fluff, swearing? Cheating, Sharon being a bitch. Terrible writing as always.
Masterlist
Y/n’s husband really thought he was being smart about his indiscretions, not that his affairs shocked her, but he truly believed she was some dumb naive housewife due to believing this, he started getting sloppy. At first it pained knowing her husband was entertaining another woman whilst she was at home alone, being nothing but faithful and devoted to him. When his first mistress found out that she wasn’t the only side piece he had she had messaged Y/n all the pictures, videos and messages between the pair, it was meant to hurt her but she already knew her husband was seeing other women behind her back.
The thought had crossed her mind at first to confront him but she knew better, she knew no matter how many tears she showed him he wasn’t going to change. She watched her mum do the exact same thing with Y/n’s dad, he promised her he’d stop and it wasn’t until his untimely death that she had found out that not only was he still seeing the other woman but was engaged to her and the cherry on top was that he had borne a 8 year old son.
So no she wasn’t going to confront him, leaving him to truly believe that his beautiful naive wife didn’t know that when he said he was having a business meeting it was actually him fucking another woman.
However what he didn’t know was that whilst he was having these “business meetings” she was in the arms of another man.
The first time she slept with Bucky she ran to the bathroom to puke up, she felt disgusted, she felt like she was the worst of the worst. The second time she slept with Bucky the guilt was still there but not as strong as before. Now after every time of meeting up with him she didn’t care, she loved the attention he showered her with but most of all she craved just being touched and not necessarily in a sexual manner.
Bucky thought she was truly the most beautiful woman to ever exist, he found out she was married after he gained the confidence to talk to her. The shock and anger he felt was showed on his face when she spoke about her husband’s affairs. Trying to get his head around the idea of how man could have someone like Y/n as a wife just to cheat on her truly baffled him.
Now Bucky lays there trying to catch his breath after spending nearly two hours of happily pleasuring over and over again the goddess that he has the upmost respect for. He knew he was in deep with her, he knew that it wasn’t just sex for him and he hoped that it was the same for her.
Keeping a soft gaze at her ever so slightly trembling form he broke the silence “So I was thinking, don’t give me that look missy, I was thinking about introducing you to my friends? They’ve heard everything about you and they want to meet you but only if your comfortable with that”
“I don’t know Buck, you told me they know I’m married and they probably think the worst of me”
“No baby they don’t, I told them about him and how he’s cheating on you none of them judge you for doing the same”
Shakily sighing “okay but only if your really sure about this”
“Never been more sure beautiful”
They share a kiss which quickly grew more intense. Bucky was more than happy to continue showing her affection and love.
The day had arrived to meet her lovers friends and to say she was nervous was an understatement the thought of them judging her scared her, she knew she wasn’t a bad person she did anything for anyone. Never in a million years did she think that the man who took a vow to love and be faithful to her would break said vow, but here she was five years into marriage her husband betraying her with four women - that she knows of - she was tired of being mocked and treated like a fool so she decided to return the favour. However now she was in too deep, she had fallen in love with Bucky. So she truly hoped his friends didn’t judge her too much.
Bucky had agreed to meet her outside the cafe that was close by the tower, they shared a kiss and made their way to where his friends were. The whole time Bucky was reassuring Y/n that it was going to be okay.
Standing in front of the Avengers was intimidating but when they greeted her happily the nerves that was settled throughout her body melted away. Conversations flowed effortlessly laughs were shared, that was until Sharon spoke up from where she was sat. “So Y/n Bucky says you’re married? At first I was shocked that he could sleep with a married woman but now meeting you I understand”
Y/n felt uncomfortable under Sharons intense gaze, she definitely didn’t like her tone. After shifting to try and get comfortable she finally found her voice “My husband has been cheating on me for a long time, I never intended to do the same but I met Bucky one night and one thing led to another and well now I’m here” ending her sentence with a shy chuckle. Bucky took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting gesture.
“Don’t you feel slightly ashamed of yourself? Because you should”
Not knowing how to reply she just looked down at her clasped hands, of course she felt ashamed of herself, of course she hates herself for being no better than her husband. It was one moment of weakness that if she had to do it all over again, she would. She would do it all over again without a second thought and that, that is what she hated about herself.
The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, everyone was pretty annoyed with Sharon for spoiling such a happy time. The looks that were shot at Sharon made Y/n feel like she had done something wrong. She never wanted to cause any problems with the group of friends. A few beats passed when Y/n glanced at her watch then bent down to get her bag and coat that was at her feet, her movements caused Bucky to jump up. “You don’t have to go”
“I do, I need to get home” turning to the group “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you all, thank you for a great time, bye” Not listening to the protest coming from Bucky and his friends, she walked out the room to the elevators. Bucky had ran inside just before the doors had closed.
“Baby ignore Sharon, she’s just being rude for no reason. I’m sorry”
“It’s fine Buck. Honestly. I need to let you know now that I’ve finally filed for divorce. I’ve already packed my stuff and moved into an apartment. He’s on a “Business” trip ah. I really feel hard for you Buck, I’m sorry” The shiny doors came open and she all but ran out before Bucky could reply.
Four months had pasted since Y/ns confession in the confined space of the elevator, four months without speak or seeing the super soldier. The messages and phone calls that came from Bucky and her now ex-husband had gone off none stop. The messages from her ex started off with him apologising and begging her to come back, he’ll change. Which turned to him taunting her, blaming her for his actions. When it came to their divorce to be finalised he had showed up with mistress number 4 hanging off his arm, he thought this move would hurt her but all it did was make the judge give her way more money than she originally asked for.
Bucky’s messages consisted of apologies too, along with pleading her to meet him. But was also filled with him telling her he loved her.
One Sunday the rain was pouring down heavily in the late afternoon when a knock on the door startled Y/n, trying to calm her racing heart she made her way to the sound. Opening her door her heart stopped.
“W-what are you doing here Buck? How did you find me?”
“Nat”
“Okay? Still didn’t answer the first question”
Instead of answering her Bucky walked straight up to her, touching her face with freezing and delicate hands he searched her eyes for any reason to pull away. Finding none he moved closer and closer till his cold plumb lips touched hers. Kissing one another always took their breaths away, no matter how many times they’ve done it. Reluctantly pulling away he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.
“Be mine and I’ll be yours” Bucky’s heart was hammering rather hard inside of his chest awaiting her response, and instead of verbally responding she pulled him into the apartment letting him kick the door behind them.
~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
#marvel fanfiction#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes#marvel#bucky fluff#tw cheating#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky yn
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69 🫡🫡🫡
There were eight 69's in my inbox I just want you all to know.
--
"Hey, um, so, hello," someone said, voice cracking.
Steve blinked slowly, not quite understanding. He'd heard that tone of voice before, but never directed at him. Normally Thor, or Bucky, or even Natasha, when she was wearing a tank-top that showed off her arms. Someone seeking help, needing muscle. Steve was scrappy, but he also wasn't the first person anyone ever turned to for help. He turned, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
The man who had sidled up to him was wearing clothes way too nice for the bar Steve and his friends called home base. As he watched, the man shifted, and he saw a peek of a red sole on the bottom of his shoe. His watch looked expensive, too. He bet the guy's buttons were more expensive than some of the liquor behind the bar.
"Hello," Steve answered belatedly.
"I'm gonna be frank with you," the man said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "My ex is following me. I have a restraining order and the police are on the way but. You know. New York. So. Just pretend to be my date? Please? So I don't look like I'm wandering around helplessly. I need to look like I came here on purpose."
"Okay," Steve answered, the novelty of the request sort of making everything else absorb slowly. Then the rest of what the man said hit him, and he straightened up from where he'd been slouching over his beer. "Restraining order?!"
"You said okay no take-backs," the man answered, eyes darting back and forth as if he was already choosing someone else to ask if Steve really said no. "I'm Tony. Can we hold hands? Or. Like. I can go. Is there a bathroom here? Is there a window in it?"
Tony was panicking, Steve realized. He was about to shake out of his skin. Whoever his ex was, he was really scared. And he should be, Steve figured belatedly. From what he'd been told, restraining orders could be hard to get.
He reached out, bypassing Tony's trembling hand to instead grab Tony's chin, gently forcing him to turn to face him. "I'm Steve," he offered kindly. "Hi, Tony."
Tony squeaked, cheeks taking on a pink tinge. "Hi," he managed, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
"Don't worry," Steve told him, trying to convey that no matter what, here, he'd be safe. If Steve couldn't protect him, his friends were here to take up for Tony instead. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Tony exhaled shakily. Steve took a moment to wonder if it was from relief or if it had anything to do with the shocked blush on his cheeks. Now probably wasn't the time to figure it out, he lamented, even as he stood from his stool to offer it to Tony and subtly waved over at Bucky and Clint by the dart board. They noticed, and Clint got Natasha's attention where she was talking with Maria and Sharon.
Good. Everyone was on alert.
Steve turned his attention back to Tony, giving him a kind smile. "So. Can't say I've ever been someone's first choice when it comes to choosing a fake boyfriend."
Tony swiveled his gaze away from the menu to blink at him, stunned. "Why? You're very cute."
It shocked a laugh out of Steve. "Yeah, but I don't look very strong," he offered.
"...I don't. Want him to go after you," Tony answered after a brief, uncomfortable pause. "He'll just feel sorry for you. That I'm your date. So."
Steve bit back the urge to grip his hands into fists. "...Hmm," he offered, instead of 'what the fuck' or 'lemme at him.' He patted the back of Tony's hand soothingly. "Well. If he says even one thing wrong, rest assured, my fists are up."
"Huh?" Tony asked, but Steve just patted his hand again.
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♥ family camping trip w/ stan (headcanons) ♥
✢ summary: headcanons on going on a camping trip with Stan’s family
✢ warnings: nsfw
Stan HCs
𝒮𝐹𝒲
It was of course Randy’s idea to bring you along, Stan didn’t want to subject you to his family for a week.
He was glad you came anyways since he loved having you around.
“Bring your earbuds, you’ll need them in the car"
You and Stan of course shared a tent together.
Stan was a pro at putting the tent together since he had gone camping with his family since he was a toddler.
Stan literally wakes up the latest out of everybody.
You would always get up early to start making breakfast with Sharon.
Stan unzips the tent and comes out with his black hair all messy and rubs his sleepy eyes.
“That smells amazing babe”
Stan sleepily holds your waist and rests his chin on your head while you prepare breakfast on the little propane stove.
Randy says cheesy dad stuff like “ah, young love” and “to be a teenager again”.
Stan always rolls his eyes at his dad being cringe, but you find it endearing.
Sharon always tries to make sure you’re eating enough.
Shelley was forced to go with, but you and her get along well enough.
Stan LOVES documenting everything you guys do with photos.
You’ll just be cozy in your pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, roasting marshmallows when he whips out his phone to take cute pics of you.
He’s totally posting a photo dump of you two on his insta when he gets back home (and has wifi).
Asks you to go on hikes with him away from his family when they become a little suffocating.
“Are your feet tired? I can carry you on my back.”
You two go on the most romantic midnight stroll by the lake and stare at the pretty stars.
He’ll let you sit on his lap while you two listen to music in the dark.
While you two are sitting and taking in the view he wraps his arms tightly around you.
“Look at the sky tonight— all of the stars have a reason”
𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦
Stan’s a fucking fiend for risky sex, so this camping trip is his time to shine.
Purposely told you to sit way in the back of the car during the road trip so he could finger you under his blanket when he got bored.
He was so eager to fuck you he told his parents “we’re heading to bed early, its been a long day” on the first night.
It was like 8pm...
As soon as you zipped the tent closed Stan’s hands were already roaming your body.
“Fuck, your ass looks so fucking good in those shorts”
Wanted to give your ass a loud slap but his parents were literally 40 feet away outside the tent.
Opted to biting and marking up your body instead.
As soon as you got a little too vocal he’d grab your jaw with his hand and hush you.
“Do you want my parents to know just how much of a slut you are for me?”
You’d of course shake your head no, which would make him give you a quiet chuckle.
“Then be a good girl and be quiet for me.”
He says that but would go right back to making it impossible to stay quiet.
It’s almost as if he likes making your life harder than it needs to be.
Slides his fingers inside of you and fingers you, just slow enough for you to always be on the edge.
You beg for him to let you cum in the quietest voice you can muster.
“Be patient princess, as soon as they all go to sleep I’ll give you what you want.”
His parents go to bed finally and after a while Stan finally withdraws his fingers from you.
You whimper desperately but become excited when you hear him shuffling out of his boxers.
With no hesitation he thrusts into your needy, wet pussy.
He’s on top of you, clamping your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
Tears start to spill from your eyes as they roll into the back of your head.
“Mmm, fuck, your so fucking tight for me. Squeezing me like a good little slut.”
That was enough to send you finally over the edge as you release the tension within your body into a heavenly orgasm.
Stan cums inside you soon after that, painting your walls with his seed.
Stan rolls over, sweaty and out of breath.
You were tired and satisfied, drifting off to sleep when you hear him softly say something.
“Oh princess... we aren’t done yet”
Welp... you are not getting any sleep tonight.
#south park x reader#stan x reader#stan marsh x reader#south park#stan x reader smut#south park hcs#south park fanfiction#stan marsh
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky x Sharon
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
**Previous chapter**
Cookie looked at the cold face of her friend, the man she had loved for 2 years and rasped out "Bucky. Please." She looked into his emotionless eyes and she realized this was it, she closed her eyes and tried to say "I forgive you" as she lost consciousness.
Chapter 6
Note: sorry this chapter took so long, hope it's worth the wait.
Warnings: Swearing, angst
The Soldat was distracted by a door slamming open, the sunlight that shone through it and the shield that hit him in the chest, knocking him back. He dropped an unconscious Cookie and turned in the direction of the distractions before stalking over towards them. He approached the man who threw the shield and a man in a red and gold metal suit but before he could throw a punch the guy in the metal suit put his hand up and some red mist came out. The Soldat covered his mouth and tried not to inhale it but failed.
Bucky coughed and shook his head before looking up to see Steve and Tony in front of him, holding defensive positions as they waited to see if it worked.
Bucky rubbed his eyes "Steve? What the Hell is going on?"
Bucky looked around as his head cleared and saw Cookie, crumpled on the floor and rushed over to her, falling to his knees.
"Cookie! Nonononono. Fuck! What did I do? Please doll, you have to be ok"
He started to reach out to her but pulled back when he saw the bruises starting to form on her neck. He turned to look at Steve and begged "Help her, please."
As soon as he sprayed Bucky, Tony aimed the mist at Nat, Sharon, Yelena and Antonia. All but Antonia shook themselves out of the trance they were in while Antonia tried to escape up the stairs. Unfortunately for her, Nat and Yelena were faster and tackled her to the floor.
Steve carefully picked Cookie up and hurried towards the quinjet.
Bucky stood, looked around and saw Sharon. He glared and started towards her when Tony stopped him. "We'll take care of them, you go back to the jet with Rogers and Cookie.
Bucky flinched when he heard her name "I don't think-"
Tony cut him off "Don't think, just go, everything here is handled."
Bucky just nodded and turned in the direction Steve had gone. When he arrived at the jet he saw Steve standing next to the medical bed where he had laid Cookie.
He turned to face Bucky "Friday is monitoring her but there doesn't seem to be any serious damage just some bruising. She'll be alright, Buck."
Bucky scoffed "Yeah, no thanks to me. I'll just keep my distance." and sat as far away from her as he could.
Steve tried to comfort him "C'mon Buck, it's not your fault. They were controlling you."
Bucky just turned his back to him without a word and Steve knew he would need some time.
Tony and Sam walked up the ramp with Antonia, Nat, Sharon and Yelena all in front while Clint and Sam were last so they could keep an eye on everyone.
Antonia was restrained and belted into one of the seats with Sam and Clint on either side. Tony took the pilots seat and they raced home as quickly as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cookie felt herself being pulled awake by an annoying beeping in her room. She tried to tell Friday to turn her alarm off but quickly realized that no sounds were coming out. She tried to clear her throat but it was painful like a sore throat when you're sick but much worse.
She tried to open her eyes but the room was too bright and as she sniffled detected a strong antiseptic smell.
Once she put it all together she realized she must be in the med bay.
Cookie opened her eyes again and was able to keep them open this time. She felt a hand holding hers and looked around the room to see dark hair. She squeezed the hand gently and tried to speak, which made her cough and woke him up.
"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"
Cookie tried to speak but on squeaked and coughed. She shrugged and pointed at her throat.
"I know, I'm sorry Cookie. We tried to get there before it went that far but I'm glad we found you in time. Here, have some water." He sat her bed up and held the cup of water so she could drink from the straw. As she drank he explained that Bucky, Sharon, Nat and Yelena had all been controlled by Antonia with a serum that the Red Room had been using on the Widows, to keep them in line.
The cool water soothed Cookie's throat but when she tried to speak it still came out as a croak "Sammy" and made her cough again.
Sam set the water down "Dr Cho said your throat will be sore for awhile so no talking for a few days. If you can manage that, Imma be seriously impressed. Here, this will help." he handed her a tablet so she could type out what she wanted to say.
Cookie slapped his shoulder before taking the tablet and trying quickly into it. *How's Barnes?*
Sam shook his head "After everything that's happened, that's the first thing you wanna say?" he sighed "Bucky is fine. He's been in the waiting area all night but won't come in here. Blames himself, which he should, if you ask me."
Cookie scowled at him and started typing again
*I didn't ask. According to what you just told me, wasn't his fault. Tell his dumb ass to come in here!*
Sam looked at her, frustrated "I also just told you he won't come in here. Did he mess up your hearing too?"
Cookie sighed *Tell him I said so*
Sam shook his head as he left the room to talk to Bucky. It didn't go well.
Bucky refused "Goddammit Sam, I already told you I wasn't going in there. What if I see her and he decides to come back and finish the job? That was his last order and I don't know if it'll still be there when I see her. She deserves better than me. I'm stupidly damaged and can't promise she won't end up hurt, whether it's by someone I've hurt, Hydra wanting me back or just me and my unstable mind. I can't risk hurting her again. Just tell her I'm sorry."
Sam tried to reply but when he looked where the super soldier had just been standing, the entire waiting room was empty.
When Sam returned to Cookies room she frowned and he shrugged "I told you he wouldn't. He bailed before I could convince him. You're gonna have to wait till he's ready."
A few hours later Cookie was released by Dr Cho with the conditions that she take it easy and not try to talk for a few days. On the way back to her room she saw Nat and Yelena. Both women looked at the floor and mumbled apologies as she walked past.
Cookie was happy that she made it to her room without seeing Sharon. Even if she was being controlled, Cookie couldn't wipe the images of Sharon and Bucky all over each other or the nasty comments she had made. Maybe after some rest and time to put it all into perspective she would feel more rational about it.
Cookie wasn't sure what her next move should be since her being here seemed to be traumatic for everyone involved in her adventure. DC and Boston were always options. She could transfer to either one and still do her job without much trouble, thanks to Stark tech and wouldn't be too far away by plane or Dr Strange in a real emergency.
She knew that seeing Bucky every day, especially if he stays with Sharon or finds another "friend", would be challenging for her. Distance would help her heart heal, or so she thought.
She figured being out of his sight would help Bucky deal with his own trauma and guilt without her reminding him that the Soldat was still lurking.
After a couple of days Cookie was getting her voice back and had been released to go back to work. She noticed that Bucky always seemed to be lurking around but bolted everytime their eyes met. He wouldn't stay in the same room as Cookie unless there were briefings where he wasn't given much choice.
When Maria came to her office a week later, to see how she was feeling, Cookie told her what she was thinking and Maria tried to talk her out of it.
By the time Maria left her office, Cookie was sure of her next step and sent the papers to Nick Fury, already begrudgingly signed off on by Maria.
When her work day ended, Cookie headed to her room to start organizing and packing. She would miss her view of the lake and her friends here but she felt like she just couldn't stay with the way things were. Maybe in a few years she could get her head together and figure out how to convince her heart to let go of Bucky but it wasn't happening here.
Cookie told Sam that she was moving but made him promise not to tell anyone, especially not Bucky. She wasn't up to a teary goodbye with the whole team and didn't want Bucky to feel like it was his fault.
At her last team dinner two weeks later, everyone was there even Steve and Tony but only Sam knew it was her last day at the compound. Everyone else thought they were celebrating her clean bill of health the day before. As always, Bucky was nowhere to be seen while Sharon, Nat and Yelena were there but none of them had even tried to speak to her since they all returned to the compound.
Cookie figured they were dealing with their own guilt even if it wasn't really any of their fault but she knew Dr Raynor would help them work through it all. She convinced herself that her move was best for them as well, so they don't have to see her and feel bad about what happened.
The next morning she woke early, left her room packed for the movers to pick up and Sam flew her to her new home for the foreseeable future.
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella
Chapter 7
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#angst with a happy ending#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#no benefits
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Question...
pairing: bucky x reader
summary: bucky has been acting suspicious so you finally ask him where he's spending his nights/ more like with who
tw: cheating; gaslighting; angst;
a/n: not proof read/ English is not my first language so pls be nice /
suffice to say this was very vagely inspired by taylor swifts song question
MASTERLIST
part 2
"IT'S JUST A QUESTION!" you yelled at your soon to be ex, Bucky.
You were in the middle of an argument with your boyfriend, who you have been suspicious of for a while, and you have finally snapped and asked the question.
"I already told you. I had reports to write." another lie has come through Buckys mouth and it took everything in you not to leave without fighting.
Bucky has been coming home later and later every night for the last couple of months, you tried to trust him, and you did at the beginning, but whatever has been going on it has been going on a while.
"How dare you lie to me! Everyone knows! Our friends look at me like I'm the biggest idot on Earth! Do you understand how embarrassing that is!?" your voice cracking, tears ready to spill.
The party you had attended last night had been the breaking point, worst of all it was your own birthday party.
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
It was almost midnight and your birthday was approaching, party had been going on for two hours by now, and you were enjoying yourself.
Greetings and hugs were exchanged, lots of dancing during your favourite songs. Everything was perfect, well almost, Bucky still hasn't arrived and you were starting to think he won't come at all. A message notification gets your attention. Speak of the devil.
bucky: sorry doll be there soon love you
"Hey, you okay?" Natasha had asked you seeing your face fall. You faked a smile and pulled her to the dance floor, not in the mood to talk about it, today was supposed to be a good day.
Bucky arrives 10 minutes later, unfortunately not alone, he arrived with Sharon. Sharon has been a good friend of everyone in the group, and you liked her she was very nice to you, but recently you've had this bad feeling.
Bucky runs up to you, picks you up, and kisses you. It was easy to forget that you're angry and disappointed when he kisses you like that.
The moment is ruined when you hear people laugh. Bucky looks at the time and pulls away. You stand there feeling embarrassed, with everyone's eyes on you, you disassociate. Your hands grow cold even though you're sweating, music making you overwhelmed, but you just can't move.
Only when you feel Buckys hands on you, you're pulled back to reality. He starts leading you to the table where your cake stands, everyone starts clapping and singning happy birthday, the candles on the cake burning, their light reflecting in your teary eyes.
No one notices that they're not tears of joy, because why would they? It's your birthday you can't be sad on your special day.
You blow out the candles, and as soon as the cake is cut, you run outside to take a breath of fresh air in hopes of it calming you down.
You're not outside for long before you hear two familiar voices talking.
"Do you have to go? It's still early." Buckys voice echoes though the empty alley way, where the exit from the place is. He doesn't notice you sitting away in the corner on some empty wooden boxes, despite his senses.
"I gotta go. Tomorrow same time?" Sharon replies and Bucky nods and waves goodbye, she sits down in the uber and drives away....
You sit there trying to process this, trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head, it doesn't mean anything, but you know that's not true and you're done.
The time flies and it's time to go home, and on the way to the apartment you barely say anything, which Bucky takes as you being tired.
But as soon as you step into the apartment you finally ask
"How long have you been fucking Sharon?"
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
Bucky still doesn't look at you and tries to brush you off but you weren't having it, so you pull him by the shirt.
"Look at me,when you're talking to me!" you say through gritted teeth before noticing a row hickeys on Buckys neck making you drop the shirt instantly.
You're speechless, your hand covers your mouth trying to hold off the sob that was about to escape.
Bucky also stays unmoving not knowing how to get out of this, he didn't mean to,it wasn't supposed to happen.
The first time it happened it was after one of the work parties, he was drunk, Sharon was drunk and mistakes were made. He planned on telling you but he just couldn't. You're too kind too sweet and didn't deserve to have your heart broken.
It was eating him up, but he couldn't let you find out, so after finishing a report he goes to Sharon's office to tell her that what happened the night before was a mistake and wouldn't happen again, he asked her to keep the secret from everyone. However he had found himself once again in her bed, and it just never stopped.
It's not that Bucky didn't love you, he did or that's what he kept telling himself. He didn't mean for it to go this far but now it's too late.
"I'm sorry." Bucky finally says after deafening silence that's been going on for far too long.
You're still frozen in place not knowing what to do. Bucky is the man you thought you would marry, spend the rest of your life with. You were sure he was the one, all the smiles and laughs he gave you, the late night kisses, the pillow forts, the promises.... Everything crashing down on you all at once.
"How long? Please tell me the truth, you owe me that much." Your voice just above a whisper.
"Four months."
Buckys answer doesn't surprise you, but it does break you. You don't say anything just nod and start to pack your bags. Bucky doesn't do anything to stop you, he just stays out of your way. And you leave without another word.
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
/month later/
It took a while for you to get used to living alone, since you've been living with Bucky for the last 3 years. You hadn't had the time to mourn the loss of you relationship as you were too busy adjusting.
There were unfortunately things you had yet to pick up from yours and Buckys place, and today was the day you're finally going back, for the first time since that day.
As much as it hurt you to go back you really needed your stuff. You text Bucky you're close and he replies with an okay. If you had kept your key the night you left you wouldn't have to see him but alas.
"Hey." Bucky openes the door and greets you, but you just walk past him towards the bedroom.
"I hadn't touched anything. I haven't even slept in our bed." you cringe at the words *our bed* but still say nothing.
Bucky hovers around the door watching you pack, which makes you nervous, not an emotion you ever thought would be caused by him.
"Are you still with her?" you shamefully ask while picking up a dress Bucky got you for your first anniversary, deciding it was better not to bring it.
"Yeah." Bucky says quietly opting not to lie, even though you wish he had lied.
"That's nice. I'm sure that's suitable." you reply swallowing hard.
It doesn't take more than half an hour to pack the rest of your stuff, you pick up the suit case and look around, your heart breaking more every passing second.
Bucky asks if you need help, you deny it quickly and head for the door.
As soon as door opens, you walk out without turning around or saying goodbye. He doesn't deserve it and you both know it.
|the end|
part 2
hope you enjoyed <3
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan characters#bucky fic#bucky masterlist#marvel fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky angst#bucky fanfic
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Wrong Choice …
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
This is my honest approach to the jealousy trope, because if it was IRL, I’d like to think a lot of us would just be insecure, and far less brazen. (Not that I don’t love a good jealous / smutty coupling)
Warnings: Jealousy, Fighting, Mean words muttered in anger, Injured reader, poor communication. Insecurities: •Natasha—Fear of abandonment | •Reader—Fear of being cheated on (again) / Used
18+ | Minors DNI |
Smut: Daddy(R), Good Girl (N), ‘Oral’(N-Sucking off a strap/getting throat fucked), Riding (N-Strap), Nipple stimulation (N), Teasing(N/R), lightweight Subby Natty. Kinks: Bulge, Degradation, Cock warming. (This wasn’t even supposed to happen, this was going to be smutless)
Natasha Romanoff is an absolute flirt, it's a well established notion around the compound, her smirk alone had the potential to inspire a room full of sexual tension. It’s not entirely her fault, it's been engrained in her psyche from all her forced training that it's now just apart of her daily banter. Her particular skillset was how she eventually won you over, and after making things official with her over a year ago you'd thought all the flirting would stop with you, but boy were you completely wrong.
Standing in a corner of the tower with your cosmo in hand you were silently seething. Across the way was a sight you'd never wanted to see, but no matter how hard you tried to look away you just couldn't bring yourself to. There stood Natasha, the love of your life, with her hands on the sizable bicep of none other than Bucky—her former booty call, and it all made you feel incredibly small, as if you weren't enough for her anymore, or maybe it was that you simply never were.
———————————
When she asked you out you thought you were the luckiest girl alive, but now you realize you were holding onto a childish hope with her. Natasha was beyond gorgeous, and could have anyone she wanted, but she'd settled for you. Maybe this was her finally realizing that, and breaking up with you just slipped her mind, or better yet, maybe this was her way of doing it. Insecurities plagued your mind, your previous 'this is what you deserve,' and the 'you'll never find someone willing to stay,' mantras ringing throughout your head on a continual loop.
A stream of tears falls down your cheeks before you could stop them, memories of your last two relationships coming back in flashes, hitting you like a freight train, and the idea that it could be happening all over again made your stomach twist into unbearable knots. It hurt twice as bad since she knew all about your most recent previous relationship with Sharon; just enough to know that the woman was an asshole who took advantage of your never ending well of kindness, and that she deserved to disappear off the face of the Earth for ever making you cry like she always managed to do.
Your phone buzzing pulled you from your short lived pity party when it was Fury's name flashing across your screen., "Agent Y/L/N, care to assist Commander Hill on a mission tonight? I'm aware there's a party, but I'd —." The poor guy couldn't even finish his thoughts, "I'm on my way.," your voice dangerous as your feet carry you out of the tower and to your car; Natasha can surely find her own ride home, or better yet she can stay with Bucky, ride him for all you care and leave your apartment empty.
—
Natasha was holding the pose perfectly, the subtle, but not really subtle touch of the arm, paired with the exaggerated laughter, and the inappropriate amount of side boob on display. If she played her cards right you'd be ripping her from the soldier, and out of the party in no time to remind her just where she belongs; Beneath you, as your tongue was relentless with its attacks on her, the thought alone had her soaking through her undergarments.
Bucky however takes notice of you, he began to shake her off, "Natasha, your girlfriend looks hurt.," his heart stuttering at the sight of your clearly distorted face. "The whole point is to make them jealous! Steve's glaring daggers into my back right now, and Y/N's—." Bucky interrupts her, "Leaving..."
Natasha turns around so fast the soldier's metal arm has to catch her so that she doesn't wind up eating shit. The glimpse of your wet cheeks telling her she royally fucked up here, "No, why is she crying? I, this wasn't supposed to happen.," she looks to the soldier for clarity, "Natasha, do you not know the hell she's been through? Honestly, I never should've indulged in your silly game because now she's hurting. Sharon cheated on her in her own apartment, and Maritza did that and then some to the poor girl, and now here we are playing an immature game of jealousy to have a steamy night."
Natasha's already running as Bucky airs his grievances, grabbing her coat from the hanger and charging out of the thick doors just in time to hear tires screech, and to see your brake lights as you tear out of the compound lot. Natasha's anxiety was through the roof, she wasn't even considering the prospect of a negative reaction, but fuck did she feel stupid now after the full picture was before her.
——
Natasha has been unavailable to the world, every phone call ignored, and though most can figure out where she is, they know better than to just show up at your apartment and get her. It had been a week since she last saw you, even longer since she got to hold you or to feel your lips due to just returning from her own mission, and her already fragile heart was breaking more and more everyday. Nobody knew where you went, and if they did they surely weren't telling her, so she'd taken up a permanent residence on your couch. Marvin your calico appreciated the company, or at least he did up until she began to use him as a living tissue for her nonstop well of tears.
It was about 2pm on a Friday when she heard keys jangling in the door, her eyes widening at the state of herself, and the surrounding mess taking over the living room of the apartment. Food wrappers of all kinds covered the coffee table next to her gallon of water, she smiled goofily at the thought of you being proud of her for staying hydrated, but then reality sunk back in, and she remembered how hurt you looked when you left without a word that night.
When the door finally creaked open she stood up from her permanently molded spot on your couch, taking in a steadying breath as she was anticipating seeing your face as it rounded the corner., "Sestra, Jeez, you look like the shit!," The redhead's shoulders deflated at the sight of Yelena, and she wondered if this was your way of breaking the news to her that you weren't ever coming back, and though she tried to fight it off she began to hyperventilate to the thought of you never returning to her.
Dreams were not much of a factor for her previously, but something about the way you smiled at her inspired her to live life like it was hers for the taking, and with you she soon realized it genuinely was. Life with you was everything she had ever wanted, and more ; even without discussing the future in too much detail in fear of rushing you, or coming off too strong she knew she wanted you there for every possible milestone there was to come.
Every first that ever counted to her was with you, no one had ever taken such care with her before, and though you weren't her first, you were the first person to make love to her. You'd reassured her when she hesitated that there was no rush, and you stayed true to your words as you took your time cherishing her. Every other encounter she has ever had was rough, and rushed as they used her for their own selfish needs then left come morning. She'd burst into tears about halfway through, you were nothing if not gentle, and it was then that she knew she was safe with you.
Something as mundane as having her morning coffee became an adventure for her; the both of you dancing around the other in the kitchen, sharing soft touches, and stealing glances while preparing for your separate days full of work. The morning routine almost always ended the same, you would be sat on the counter with Natasha stood in between your legs, your face in her hands as she slowly made out with you until the very last possible second, sometimes she'd even rationalized being late for just a few more minutes with you.
Silence had always been something that really bothered her, countless nights chained to a bed in the red-room where all she could hear were the leaky pipes, squeaks of mice, and cries of her fellow widows enough to make her wary. Then she came to learn over time that it was something you needed after a long day of work; you'd be tending to your shrubbery while she lounged on your soft recliner with a good book. No words were spoken, but the silence wasn't terrifying with you, the atmosphere was warm, and beyond welcoming; Marvin's purrs, pages shifting, and water trickling would be the only thing heard throughout the hour, and it never ceased to calm her chronically frantic mind.
You were her calm in every storm.
Everyone who was supposed to protect her, and to love her had left her behind like it was the easiest thing to do, and it was always a sore spot for her; that's why it took her three years to let you in, and now she's faced with losing you in much the same way, and she can't do it. What hurts her the most though is knowing it would've been her fault this time; that her sunshine was actually gone all because she was trying to spice up an already amazing enough sex life by means of pointless jealousy.
Yelena watched her sister collapse to the floor, of course she knew why, and though it hurt to see her so visibly broken she also struggled to find any sympathy for the redhead. Still, she lowered herself to the floor and held her close while her body violently shook with sobs., "Lena, where is she?! I-I want to tell her I'm sorry, it was all so stupid, and now she's gone.," Yelena hummed in acknowledgment, one hand on her sister's back as she traced calming circles while her other was extending out to reach for your baby cactus., "Da sestra, you are indeed very stupid, she'll come back, but that doesn't mean you deserve her forgiveness."
Natasha sobbed even louder at the harsh truth her sister unleashed, and Yelena slowly moved the cactus beneath her sister's cheek in a sly attempt to do as you'd asked of her., "I know, but—.," Natasha paused as something harsh brushed against her face., "Lena, what the hell are you doing?," Yelena looked at her sister as if it was the most obvious thing., "Y/N asked me to come over to refill Marvin's automatic feeder, and to water the plants, so since you were crying so many of the rivers I thought I'd kill two pigs, with the one pebble."
Natasha blinks away the remaining tears, her sisters words turning her off from her own grief., "So she has access to her phone then?," the question slips out and Yelena simply nods, always having refused to lie to either one of you for the other, regardless of the circumstances.
Natasha laughs, the short and bitter rumbling in her chest a bit of a shock to the blonde., "So, instead of facing me she's hiding? Leaving me to cry myself to sleep every night without even a text to let me know she's alive?!" Yelena was quick to stand as her sisters anger festered, moving around your apartment rather quickly in an attempt to avoid her sister's wrath, but it wasn't working,, "I can't fucking believe her! She didn't even talk to me about it! She just ran off like a big fucking baby, that's it, I'm dating an actual child.. When did that happen?! Maybe this was a sign, yeah? That nothing good is ever meant to last, and I should just put an end to the misery now."
Yelena dropped the bag of kibbles onto the floor much to Marvin's delight, in three quick strides she was face to face with her sister, and though her face was neutral she was pissed., "No Natalia, you don't get to be mad here, you tried to make the already insecure woman jealous, and it's not like it was a random floozy, no, it was your ex fuck buddy Bucky Barnes.," Yelena's hands were gripping onto her sister's shoulders tightly, shaking her with every word.
"Running was her defense mechanism, it's called fight or flight, and you triggered it by bringing back up her falsehoods of never being enough.," Natasha shook out of the hold and fell back onto the couch in a shamed silence., "Do you know how many nights I had held her trembling body after Sharon and Maritza?," Yelena was crying herself as she recalled it all, "Then I put all my trust in you to take care of her heart, and somehow after a year of success you just fucked it all up, then have the nerve to act like the jilted party here because she's taking her time with forgiving you."
Natasha just looks up at her sister as if she were a wounded puppy, and the blonde sighs., "If anything you should be proud of her Nat, because the old Y/N would've come running back to you without a single doubt, and I would have resented you for it had you let her do it." The redhead nods, and settles her cheek atop of her bent knees, eyes returning to the TV once more and the blonde takes that as her sign to go, leaving with a kiss to her forehead, and a text message sent to you.
—
*Go home, and either fix this or set her free.*
It's not that you didn't want to go home, because you missed your own bed like crazy. It's that you felt like an idiot for just running out, and accepting a mission in a fit of anger. You'd been completely off your game, and Maria wound up having you replaced after the third day when you took a bullet to the left shoulder that left you incapable of helping.
Being in the shield medical wing in a foreign country left you with a lot of time to think, and to read all of Natasha's hundreds of messages where you were able to not only see, but feel the desperation as it jumped off of the screen and settled into your cracked open heart. Regardless of her thoughtless flirting, you felt inclined to forgive her as it didn't take you much reading to realize her true intentions. You'd refused to have the conversation over text though, because so much gets lost through digital communication, and you wouldn't want anything else to go wrong.
Fortunately for the sake of your relationship Maria promised she'd pick you up today, the mission proving rather successful even with your hiccup, and you were relieved for that. The relief was short lived as the next wave of anxiety rolled through you, and it was directly linked to having to face Natasha after a week of inexplicable silence, Yelena's text didn't help you to stay calm, nor did watching the angry footage from your home security cameras.
Nonetheless, you loaded into the jet with a nervous smile on your face, and spent the entire three hours in the air going over what you should say. Much to Maria's dismay too as she was forced to play the role of a soundboard. When she was shoving you out of the jet faster than you could unbuckle with the excuse of mission reports you were chuckling, then for the fun of it all, or to simply call her bluff you texted Fury 'You're welcome for the increased productivity, expect Hill's reports by 5pm.,' You knew how much the commander hated all the paperwork, her usual excuses were actually pretty funny but you felt she deserved this slight for being so pushy.
The uplifted mood was short lived when you climbed into your car, excruciating jolts of pain radiated all throughout your body as you were forced to use your shoulder to drive around, but once you got settled on the road the pain had faded. It just couldn't compete with your stuttering heart the closer you got to your apartment. You'd taken the long way to give yourself time to calm down, even stopping off for a quality bottle of vodka and loads of snacks in preparation for the hypothesized long night.
Entering your own place had never been a point of stress before—come to think of it, neither had talking to your beautiful redhead. This is the first official form of dissension to ever arise in your otherwise solid relationship. Sure, you've definitely had arguments over the little thing; like cleaning up after oneself, or Marvin's diet, but it always ended the same—with cuddles and laughter as Natasha would grumble that her bra does indeed belong on the coat rack, and you'd reluctantly concede that five pieces of salami as a treat for 'being adorable,' was a bit much for the lazy feline.
The both of you were insanely stubborn, opinionated women who took their time in falling but subsequently loved really hard. Which really only leaves room for two routes, this will either be resolved instantaneously or it will become a heated blowout, and you just hope that if it's the latter that it doesn't mean everything is coming to an end, because now that the anger had faded you couldn't seem to imagine your life without the woman.
She was the woman of your dreams after all.
After shaking out some nerves you steadily put the key into the knob, quietly opened the door, then nearly collapsed at the sight of your space. A week, in seven days time she'd managed to make it a filthy mess, it was rather impressive. Funny too, because nobody else knew that she was a slob, her record for being all put together would crumble if you just sent Tony a picture. Shaking your head of the deadly idea you move in to pet an impatient Marvin behind the ears, then peer into the living room to see Natasha.
She was sleeping, you'd say peacefully but the tear stained cheeks, and body tremors gave way to the truth that she was in total misery. Settling your items onto the counter you pulled down two shot glasses in preparation then left it all on the counter so you could approach the love of your life without needing booze first., "Tasha...," she shifted, even grumbled some, but she remained asleep., "Honey, I need you to wake up, I think it's about time we talked."
Natasha was deep in a nightmare, one where you had that exact talk, and it wasn't anywhere close to as sweet as you're trying to be. It was an all out screaming match, and your words were haunting: 'A natural heartbreaker, you don't deserve me, and more to the point you're unlovable.,' 'You're just the common man's whore Natalia, always eager to please, a total fucking slut.,' 'Hope whoring yourself out was worth it Nat, because you've lost me for good.'
Your last words being, 'Get out, and never come back, you're no longer welcome here!,' was what officially did her in.
The phrases were so unlike you, deep down she even knew it was a horrid dream, but she just couldn't bring herself out of it, nor could she stop herself from believing every single word. How could she when they were her own thoughts being projected at her by your form? In real time her body was violently shaking, tears dripped down her face as she whimpered vaguely audible pleas, 'No. Please...,' The sight of her so broken was beyond devastating, and guilt began to gnaw at you for ever thinking silence was the best remedy to the situation.
Sadly your soft approach wasn't working, no amount of light shaking or whispered comfort brought her out of it, so in a desperate attempt to awaken her you slapped her across the face. Her reddened cheek only deepened at the sheer force you used, and in a perfect display of karma you were laid out on the floor with how abruptly she sat up; wincing as your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, and groaning as it consequently throbbed. Natasha's bleary eyes downcast to your pained form on the floor, and without much thought she jumped on you, only furthering your pain, but this time you did your best to mask it in favor of comforting her.
No words were said while you laid on the hardwood floor, holding tightly to Natasha's sobbing form all while whispering reassurances to the clearly distressed Avenger., "It's okay...," "You're going to be alright honey, I got you...," "It wasn't real, this is real, can you feel that? Whatever you saw it was a lie, your brain was tricking you, please, come back to me love.," With each soft phrase her body began to relax, her sobs faded into sniffles, and she somehow nuzzled even further into your chest for the much needed comfort.
Once you felt she was calm enough you decided now was a great time as any to cut the silence., "I'm so sorry for leaving honey, it's no excuse but something broke in me when I saw you and Bucky so close together. It was like all those years where I silently pined after you, where you had always kept me at an arms length, but now that I finally had you the idea that you were bored already really twisted me up.," While you sighed you felt her body tense., "Your messages told me quickly that I had read too far into things, but it didn't change how it made me feel, just made me regret my actions. It was too late to come back though, I'd been in Italy, stuck in their medbay...,"
Natasha cut off your speech with how quickly she lifted her head to peer down at you, lip trembling when she saw the fading scratches on your face, and her hands began to roam before you quickly cut their search off with a gentle grabbing of her wrists., "Angel, I'm okay now, please just let me finish up my thoughts.," Natasha melted into you again as you kissed her wrists, her willingness to fight at an all time low., "I really didn't know how to respond, and texting just felt so cheap, and a call impersonal. Now though, I realize even a simple text of 'Talk soon love.,' would have brought you some peace of mind, and I'm sorry I deprived you of that. I know that you're sorry too, I forgive you Natty, and I hope that you can forgive me too."
A loud sob broke from her chest at your words, your readiness to forgive her was both a relief and a stab to the gut as she felt undeserving. Her eyes shone with the various emotions as she pulled back to gaze into your honest pair. Her gaze fell to your lips for a millisecond, and you caught the longing in her eyes, so without anymore words you raised your hands up to cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears as you warmly smiled up at her before settling them behind her neck, and pulling her in for the kiss you'd both desperately needed all week long.
Natasha whimpers at the feel of your soft lips on hers, eagerly parting them as soon as your tongue had swiped across her lower lip, and she moaned once your tongue slid across hers. Her hands reflexively curled around and pulled at the hem of your shirt, causing you to pull back with a breathless chuckle as she moves to chase your lips,. "Baby, either you want my lips or you want my shirt off, now make a choice.," she narrows her eyes at you and softly huffs, but she leans back to allow you room to sit up.
Her hands return to the bottom of your shirt as soon as you're upright, then everything stops when she pulls it over your head and though you tried to hide it, it was of no use as she hears the shallow breath you take in, her eyes fall from your face to your stitched shoulder. Fresh hot tears immediately return to her eyes, and you see as the guilt washes right over her., "Natty, I'm fine, it's just an itty bitty scratch.," Her shaky fingers traced over the surface of the clear bandage, and her lip began to tremble.
"It's my fault...," her croaky voice gave way to just how little she'd actually used it, and just how much she'd been crying, your heart was back to aching as you gripped her chin to bring her eyes back to yours as you spoke., "No!" Natasha went to rebut but the stern look in your eyes told her it was pointless, and you were grateful to her easy submission.
"It's not your fault Tasha.," you reassured her as you moved to kiss her cheek., "I'm okay.," her tears falling into the bow of your lip, and you continue to whisper the words, oscillating between her cheeks until she ceases to cry., "This was a miscalculation, and it was mine.," you conclude, then with your hold on her back you pull her back in to pick the mood back up, and to cut her many contradicting thoughts off.
Natasha squeals as you suddenly use your arm to then hoist her over your good shoulder, she dangles freely as you get to your feet. Emerald eyes full of wonder are glued to your backside, and her hands almost move of their own accord as they joyously squeeze at your covered asset, "Hey!," your nervous hearts settles when she only giggles at your weak warning shake, and just simply continues to knead at your ass.
The atmosphere in the room shifts when you toss her onto your bed, her eyes shamelessly trail down your exposed torso, and they only widen when she notices the bonus appendage poking out against the fabric of your pants. Once her eyes finally trail back up they find your blown out ones staring back, but your expression is starkly different, almost stern., "Let's discuss the real problem shall we?"
She quirks her brow at you, but regardless of the overall confusion she nods desperately, hopeful that if she was compliant that you'd give it to her., "Well, my sweet girl needed my cock, I was too clueless to see it was all just a cry for my attention...," Natasha had to fight the scowl that tried to consume her face, even if you were telling the unfiltered truth, all this teasing about it still promptly annoyed her., "Funny too, because all you had to do was ask. I'd wanted to fuck you the moment you got back, but then you were ushering me off to Stark's fiftieth gala of the year with silly plans of your own, because sometimes my sweet girl only thinks with her needy pussy huh?"
As if on cue Natasha's thighs are rubbing in search of friction, your hands were quick to throw them back open, as you settled your leg in between to prevent further disobedience., "I'm not into the whole jealousy thing, I don't need it to handle you properly...," you mused, and Natasha gulps when your hands shove her down by her shoulders so that she's flat and beneath you as you are now hovering over her.
"Tell me though baby, who do you belong to? Seems you might've needed the refresher." Your name dies in her throat when you sink your teeth into her neck, you lick over the mark to soothe the irritated skin then lowly chuckle, "I'm sorry love, I didn't quite catch that, wanna repeat it for me?," Natasha glares up at your now smirking face, but your quirked brow in warning has her smoothing out her features just as fast., "I'm all yours daddy... Mind, body, heart, soul... Every piece of me belongs to you."
Your heart wholeheartedly warms at her honest words, but you keep your face teasing as the title she used fuels your lust ridden mind., "Daddy's girl can be so smart sometimes..." you tease, rolling the covered bulge against her for emphasis on your intentions, and it proves to work well when her hands fist at the sheets., "Tell daddy what you want baby, seems you're finally learning how to properly communicate."
Everything about the moment is overwhelming for the redhead; the way you're speaking to her has her mind and panties a wholly mess, all of your subtle touches prove to be too much, but in the same turn they're somehow not enough, and it's left her to squirm about as she tries her hardest to formulate words since you are willfully ignoring her bodies obvious answer., "I-I.," she swallows thickly when looking into your blackened eyes, all the color muffled by the lust coursing through you., "I need you to be inside me, please, just fuck me daddy..."
Natasha whines as you teasingly chuckle, her eyes tracking your every move, you lean into her, lips ghosting over hers while maintaining steady eye contact with the absolute beauty., “Suck daddy off baby, get my cock ready for your pretty pussy, then I’ll let you ride me.,” Natasha wastes absolutely no time, she surges forward to attach her lips to yours, and her hands wrap around you to flip your positions. Gentle as can be too, she makes sure that when your body slams into the mattress that your shoulder isn’t affected, and as she pulls you both into a sitting position she manages to prop an abundance of pillows behind you so that you’re not straining your muscles.
The care she shows you even in the heat of the moment has your heart swelling two sizes, but when watching her slip onto the floor with your sweats so smoothly you’re back in the moment. Natasha smirks up at you with her bottom lip caught between her teeth while her hand toys around with your strap, playing up the act of jerking you off, and you groan as she pushes down, causing the harness to rub you just right. Natasha’s eyes remain locked on yours as she runs her tongue over the tip teasingly, and you give her the silly moment, enjoying the little play for power, but you both know it’s all yours.
“Such a silly girl, you do know it’s only you who suffers right? Tease me all you want baby, but that just means it’ll be ages until I fuck you.,” You laugh out mockingly, settling even further into your pillows while watching her eyes widen with the realization, and you wink when she gives in, wrapping her lips around the tip and begins to bob up and down the faux shaft., “Such a good fucking girl, you look so hot when you’re on your knees for me.,” her loud gags every time that you jut your hips upwards aides you on your journey towards your release.
Natasha mewls when you take over for her, a hand tightly gripping her by her hair, and you relentlessly slam her head down while your hips ruthlessly fuck the strap down her throat. The sight of her at your complete mercy has you reaching your peak with a loud groan after only a few more harsh thrusts. Your hand slips from her matted hair, and Natasha slowly pulls herself off the dildo with a loud pop, a trail of spit keeping her connected to you until she’s leaning back all the way, her ass settling on her heels while she works on catching her breath.
She watches you through hooded eyes as you do much in the same, recovering from your glorious high, and just the sight of you in a blissed out state had her squirming excitedly for her promised reward. She can feel just how affected she is by your domineering actions, her slick actively dripping down her thighs and onto your carpet showing her as much.
You can feel her staring up at you, and you have to fight off a knowing smirk so as to not give yourself away. The goal is to have her so incredibly needy that she can’t take it anymore, and you don’t even have to wait long before her hands settle on your thighs with a harsh grip, a wordless whimper leaving her lips. “Mm…,” you hum to let her know you hear her, then you open your eyes to find a masterpiece; those doe eyes full of silent need, her disheveled red hair, and those plump, bruised lips that shine.
The both of you are having a curious stare off, Natasha was being so incredibly good as she humored you with feigned patience, but with one curl of your pointer finger she’s on you., “Sweet girl, go ahead, a promise is a promise.,” Natasha smiles at your granted permission, you return the gesture as you share a moment of gentleness, your lips sealing the pure feeling, and catching the hot moan of your lover as she slides down your cock with embarrassing ease.
Natasha bounces rhythmically atop of you with her hands on your shoulders, her head thrown back with her mouth agape in a state of bliss. With your right hand on her lower back you keep her steadied while she shamelessly uses you to work herself up, moving like a madman who’d been deprived of all forms of touch, and you feel that delicious pit in your stomach steadily tightening at the idea of being used by such a powerful woman such as herself.
Natasha arches into you even further when your tongue flicks over her nipple, while a set of fingers pinches at the other, her breathing becomes more erratic the longer you play with her breasts, and she rips your lips away to slam against her own when she just can’t take it anymore., “Daddy, I-I need to cum, please.,” Your hands move to her hips., “Let go then.,” you murmur before your tongue moves to explore her mouth, you then roughly lift her up, and slam her back down while also jutting upwards, your strap goes into her so deeply that you can actually feel when the soft skin of her hips beneath your thumbs tightens as her belly forcefully bulges out.
It intrigues you immensely, your entire body in relative awe when you pull away from the lips of your lover to catch sight of the bulge. Natasha’s entire body spasms when you don’t stop, unrelenting in your need to continue to see this phenomenon, and so for the final time you’d offer a resistance by pushing down on it. Resulting in an intense jolt of her body as she screamed into your neck, her rather sudden orgasm came flooding out, and in a show of absolute synchronization yours does too, but this wasn’t supposed to be about you anymore. You held onto her hips tightly, just taking a moment to revel at the sight of the deliriously beautiful, panting mess that perfectly resided in your stronghold.
Rolling off the pillows you push her into the mattress, continuing to slowly rock your hips, allowing her the chance to prolong the orgasm and for it to come to an end at a leisurely pace. You watch closely as her expressive face tells you exactly when to cease your movements., “Oh baby, you look so tired…,” you coo, and she whines when you move to pull out of her, but the fight is superficial as your words reign true.
“I’ll tell you what my sweet girl… I’m going to go get us a snack, and grab your half finished gallon of water, I’m so proud of you honey.,” Natasha smiles victoriously as you praise her before sweetly pecking her on the lips, then she cries when your warmth is gone from over., “Ah-ah, Don’t whine now baby…,” you warned, her face instinctually neutralizes, and you smile as you feel somewhat accomplished.
“After we take care of ourselves, and you show me my very best girl I’ll let you cock warm daddy so we can take our well deserved nap. When I eventually wake up, I’ll then reawaken you by relentlessly fucking you into the next morning, sound fair?” Natasha frantically nods, and so you rush off to work your magic.
Returning in record speed with a plate full of garlic hummus and various means of foods to use for dipping, you feed the tired woman until she’s pushing your hand away much like a baby, and you chuckle at the show of delirium., “All done? Use your big girl words.,” you tease, and though beyond tired she’d still managed to narrow her eyes at you, and you playfully stick your tongue out at her before settling your lips to hers in a play for distraction.
Natasha happily sighs against your chest when you reenter her with minimal effort, and you sigh once your body is perfectly molded to her., “Detka…,” you tiredly hum in a nod for her to go on., “I’m so sorry, and please let me say it. You didn’t deserve—.,” your finger settles over her lips, and she groans at the silencing., “Natty, apologize to me later if you must, I’m too spent to properly address you, and that isn’t really fair to either of us. Come morning time I promise I’ll accept it all the same, so sh.”
Natasha settled into the mattress, slinging a blanket over your conjoined, naked body, and her arms wrapped around you protectively., “Sweet dreams detka, I love you.,” you tiredly smiled and kissed her bare chest., “I love you most my sweet girl, rest up, because I promise my dreams will be anything but sweet.”
Truth be told there was still a lot to hash out, but that seems like a tomorrow problem for the more level headed versions of the both of you. You’re more than content in the lusty bubble, and don’t wish to ruin the highs with hurt feelings, and Natasha’s submission tells you she’s on the same page as you.
Of all the ways this could’ve played out you’re just happy it was your fantasy third option, and that most of the tears were pleasurable…
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6,457 Words
(I can’t imagine I missed any warnings but do always tell me if I did, so I can be able to better protect you in the long run-even in an anon message if you’re not comfortable with a comment 💋)
😳 — 💋
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff smut#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x reader#natasharomanoffpov#gxg#black widow angst#black widow fluff#black widow smut#black widow x reader#black widow x y/n
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aaargh the way davies era doctor who treats the companions is soooo good they've got their own lives outside the doctor they've got their own families who are actually fleshed out and are characters in their own right. moffat didn't fucking GET IT it's not about just one alien dude it's about people it's about their lives it's about the mess the doctor causes and how it disrupts the lives of people who don't want their lives disrupted.
i did watch all of amy & rory's episodes as they came out (i even remember the absolutely stupid way they died) but the way they don't really have lives outside of the doctor (until it's time for that to cause narrative friction LOL) makes them feel so much less real. i know part of the plot is that amy's parents got erased but she didn't grow up alone in that house and i couldn't tell you a single thing about [looking up who the fuck raised her on tardis.wiki] "aunt sharon"
and it's hard not to see the contrast to jackie tyler, widowed mum who drinks hot tea in her kinda shitty flat, who flirts with younger(-looking) men, who only had nice things to say about her daughter's father despite them actually having a turbulent relationship, who is rightfully livid at the doctor for stealing her daughter away, who is obviously so lonely and vents her frustrations realistically and who shouts at people when she's upset with them. she feels like a real person, and the way rose loves her, worries about her, phones her, comes home to her, argues with her... it adds so much to both of their characters and the doctor is part of their lives but he's not the focal point of everything. rose is the main character a lot of the time and she gets to have an actual web of relationships like one.
meanwhile amy & rory didn't even go home to consummate their marriage, they fucked in the tardis and that's a real plot point and okay yeah it's kinda funny. it is objectively funny that conceiving a child in the tardis makes that child part time lord. but it's not supposed to be funny, or at least i didn't read it that way, because then the next whole fucking season (or was it two?) is dedicated to all the cosmic consequences that come with the existence of that child and then reveals oh we already met this character but grown-up. we've known them for a really long time actually but we've kept all the backstory secret to keep you guessing. isn't that clever? it's a time travel show so you get to see things out of order! it's a mystery with no clues so we can definitely 100% wow you with the answer when we pull it out of our asses! annoying.
sorry what huh "media analysis"? no i'm just bitching don't worry about it. you scroll past now 👋 byebye
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The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.
I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.
If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.
It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)
(Prompt Fill Masterpost)
—
It came down to the timing, really.
Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.
Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.
He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.
Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).
But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.
Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.
And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.
“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.
“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”
There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.
Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.
Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.
What had Jamie deserved, then?
He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.
It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.
A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.
It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.
“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”
A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.
Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”
But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.
He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.
“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”
“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.
“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.
He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.
His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.
Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?
“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.
“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.
He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.
“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.
He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.
Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.
“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.
The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.
“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”
The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.
It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.
“Jamie-”
“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”
He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.
“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”
And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…
Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.
“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”
Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.
“Fuck off!”
It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.
“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”
And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.
Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.
All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.
(TBC)
#legitimately had to go for a walk in the rain after writing this#jamie tartt#fic prompts#my fic#ted lasso#afc richmond
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Failed Bargaining (Drabble)
Mob Boss!Steve x Introvert!Reader
Steve would go to any length in order to have you, and that worried you. A lot.
Warning(s): swearing
If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤
Steve made you nervous the very first time you set eyes on him. Because as soon as you did, you knew just how far apart your worlds were. Every fibre of his being exuded unbridled wealth and glamour, but there was more to it too, simmering beneath it all: shades of darkness you didn't think you wanted to delve into.
Apparently Steve shared none of your sentiments.
You stared at the necklace dangling before you, brows knitted. "Um, what's this?" you ask, even though you knew perfectly well what it was. While awaiting the next course, the others present at your surprise birthday dinner had, fortunately, fallen into their own worlds, deep in conversation about anything other than what was going on now between the two of you.
"A birthday present, of course," he responded, his smile never faltering. "Just one of many for my sweet girl."
It was a simple design—nothing ostentatious, thank god, but you were highly skeptical of its cost, not to mention its provenance. You may not have known Steve that long, but observation, coupled with Sharon's anecdotes, taught you that Steve never did anything in half-measures.
"You didn't have to," you tried to protest, but he was already sweeping your hair over one shoulder to gain access to your nape.
Steve chuckled softly, wrapping the delicate necklace around your neck. "But I wanted to, sweetheart. And that's what matters."
The pet names worried you just as much as the gift. Everything was moving way too fast, this . . . thing, whatever it was, between the two of you. Steve had materialized into your life out of the blue, and now suddenly it felt like he was everywhere, in every corner you inhabited, like he'd always been there. Never mind that you still had no idea what he did for a living.
His birthday gift, cold and heavy against your skin, only drove the message home. If you thought you were doing things casually, Steve wasn't having it.
Fuck.
Steve played with the gold chain of your necklace before dropping a kiss tenderly on your shoulder. "It's beautiful on you," he remarked, fingers ghosting along your collarbone. "You're never going to take this off. Promise?"
You blinked at him once, twice. His command took you aback, the gravity in his tone so different from anything you experienced. Steve watched you expectantly, his blue eyes bright.
"Steve, listen," you began, one hand covering his own as you tried to stop his fingers from exploring further. "This is all amazing, it is, but, um . . . don't you think we might be moving a bit too fast here?"
You feared he'd take offence to that, but his smile said otherwise.
"Sweetheart, we're not moving fast enough."
Just something quick and short to get me back in the swing of things. I do consider this part of a bigger story I've been cooking up, so let me know what you think! Do y'all want more?
#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#steve rogers x asian!reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers au#mafia!steve rogers#mafia!steve x reader#mob!steve rogers#mob!steve x reader
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LMFAO. anyways i'm so sorry to sam for being a victim of a hate crime and this storyline not being given the gravity it deserved, i'm so sorry to shandy for being brought in just to be an edwin 2.0 because it's apparently hilaaaarious when characters of colour become unreasonable and make poop jokes i guess, i'm so sorry to edwin who went from being an african man aware of the ridiculousness of his wealth and of the way he could help african players get recognition in their home countries to a man only interested in making white men richer (and a sidenote sorry to sam richardson who is a fantastic actor and deserved a lead actor nomination for his role in the afterparty), i'm so sorry to simi who was seemingly just brought in to make rebecca briefly jealous, i'm so sorry to sharon who was barely present, i'm so sorry to shannon who fully disappeared with one last little cameo where you couldn't even see her face, i'm so sorry to nate's family and lloyd in particular for not being centered in nate's growth because it was apparently better to bring in a manic pixie dream girl to literally force him to go back to richmond, and i'm so, SO sorry to nate who had so much potential and was played by a fantastic actor but did not get to have some of his biggest moments on screen and was forced to go back to richmond not even as a kitman, but as an assistant to the kitman, with none of his concerns ever being addressed, because he doesn't matter here: he's only present to further ted's good guy reputation. i'm so so sorry to every character of colour in this fucking show that got treated so horrendously and i'm so glad they're free now
#ted lasso spoilers#ted lasso#nate shelley#nathan shelley#lloyd shelley#shandy#simi lastname#sharon fieldstone#shannon lastname#edwin akufo#sam obisanya#i have a lot of thoughts but i hated s3 as a whole#and this is really the worst thing about it to me. i can deal with bad storylines.#but the BLATANT disregard for the characters of colour is plain racist lol#pissing me off fr#nourpost
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You Look So Perfect - Marc Spector X Reader
Request from @simpforbritgents :
"I’m convinced that Marc would love and not be able to help fucking you (respectfully ofc) when you steal his clothes bc it’s all oversized on you and he knows you love wearing his clothes."
I'm OBSESSED with this idea so ofc I had to make it filthy :)))
CW: Smut under the cut, weed usage, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, light choking, praise kink, size kink, reader is referred to as "girl" - ie, "pretty girl", "sweet girl", "good girl", etc.
(lmk if I missed anything!)
Playlist: Salt and The Sea - The Lumineers, Mistakes - Sharon Van Etten, Come Here - Dominic Fike, Baby - Born Without Bones
Every reblog and like is appreciated - thank you all for the love on my first fic <3
Your boyfriend, Marc, wasn't home. He'd been gone since early in the morning, out chasing scarabs and such; this was pretty normal for him, and for you. He was rarely around during the days lately. You missed him. God, did you fucking miss him. Any time he was away, it was like he took your heart with him. Tonight wasn't any different, and you needed him. To have his arms wrapped around your waist, to take in his scent, to listen to his breathing as his chest moved beneath the rest of your head; just to be in the same fucking room for once. Even seeing him from a distance would suffice at this point.
You weren't sure what had you so worked up. Sure, you missed Marc, but you miss Marc every time he's gone, so what made today any different?
Regardless, you figured that sitting around and moping wouldn't fix the ache in your chest for him, or the flush in your cheeks from the tingling in your lower belly, or the stupid aphrodisiac effect that wine had on you (and you had drank about a half a bottle on your own,) so you decided to just go to bed and hope he's there when you wake up in the morning.
But that didn't work either.
An hour had passed, and you are still wide awake. With an annoyed groan, you sit up and grumpily make your way into the kitchen, bare feet shocking your system at the coolness of the tile beneath you. You shiver as you grab your box of joints from the cabinet, rubbing the goosebumps on your arms as you make your way back to your bedroom. You open the window and place the ashtray on the sill, reaching behind you to pick up Marc's sweater up off the couch, slipping it on as you climb out the window onto the fire escape, grabbing a joint from the box still sitting on the windowsill as you do so.
You let yourself drown in his massive sweater whilst you light the joint, the freezing cold air hitting you hard. You take a hit, holding the smoke deep in your lungs with a massive inhale, the scent of Marc hitting your nose as you do so. You exhale, and bury your nose into the neckline of his hoodie, taking in as much of his cologne as you can.
You stay sat on the fire escape for 15 minutes, smoking the entirety of the joint and longing for Marc; the soft hums of muffled indie playing throughout your apartment as your high fully hits. You shuffle back inside, closing the window behind you and dropping the box and ashtray to your side table with a clunk as you fall into your bed.
You leave the music on, fully basking in the size of Marc's hoodie, rolling around in it as if you were in a music video. You knew it was the weed talking, but it almost -almost- felt like he was holding you; his aroma surrounding you in a fog-like hug as you lazily hummed along to the song playing, giggling at nothing in particular.
You kicked off your sweatpants and stood up, bouncing around to the music as you filled your glass with more wine (not that you needed it,) and swayed around to the beat in some pitiful attempt to tire yourself out.
You weren’t sure how long he’d been watching but as you opened your eyes and swirled around, your red eyes met Marc's dark ones.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he smiles.
“Marc!” You squeal, running over to him and practically chucking yourself into his strong arms.
"I missed you so fucking much," he murmurs into your hair, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down your spine.
"Are you really here?" you whisper, holding onto him as if your life depended on it.
"Yeah, pretty girl," he chuckles, "I'm right here."
"I missed you so much. Had to smoke a whole J on my own to get you outta my head," you joke, poking at his ribs, "It didn't work, though."
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long," he sighs, pulling away from you and tossing his bag onto his floor, "But I-"
He pauses for a little too long, looking at you up and down like a man starved.
"But you...?" you prompt, waiting for him to finish his sentence.
"Nothing, I- it doesn't matter. You... Fuck- You look really fucking good in my sweater, baby," he groans, grabbing you by the waist.
"Oh?" you giggle, "You like it when I wear you clothes, hm?"
"Fuck, I really do. Lets me know you're mine," he whispers, swooping his head down to place a passionate kiss to your lips, "But as much as I like it on you, I think I'd prefer it off."
You blush and step back, slowly removing the sweater from yourself to reveal your bare chest and pink panties.
"Better?" you sheepishly ask, biting your lip as you smile.
"Much better," he sighs, taking a step towards you and pulling you toward him again, "God, I gotta taste you, pretty girl. Can I please, please taste you?"
"Please, Marc," you whimper as he places gentle kisses to your neck, the various substances coursing through your blood stream causing every little touch to set your skin on fire.
"C'mon, princess," he grunts as he picks you up bridal-style, carrying you back to your bed as you giggle and nip at his collar bones.
You cherished that small moment; having his tall, strong figure encapsulating your petite one in comparison to his. It made you feel safe - protected, like nothing could hurt you.
He gently places you onto the mattress, and in what feels like the same motion, grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed.
"Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Been away so long, I gotta reward you for being so patient," he smirks as peppers kisses from your sternum down to your belly button.
"Please make me feel good, Marc. Missed you bad," you murmur, trying to restrain from begging him even though that's all you wanted to do. You'd get on your knees and fucking beg - that's how much you needed him.
He smiles and runs a finger over your clothed cunt, causing you to take a sharp breath. He tucks a finger under the waistband of your panties and pulls them down in the same motion, chucking them somewhere behind him.
"God, you're fucking perfect," he whispers, admiring the sight in front of him.
Meanwhile, you were admiring the sight below you.
He looked so fucking good. His big, lustful eyes gazed upon you like it was the first time he'd seen you naked. He was him, and you were you, but it was like it was the first time all over again.
"Marc," you whined, wriggling under the hold he had on your hips.
"What do you need, princess?" he asks, cocking his head to the side with a joking intonation in his voice.
"Please, just fucking touch me," you finally beg.
He smiles then, ducking his head between your thighs, placing a kiss to each inner thigh before kitten licking a single stripe through your folds. You moan and let your head fall back at the sudden relief.
He nips at your clit as he lets his hand explore your chest, tweaking your nipple as his fingers trace across it. The simple action feels like fireworks across your body, setting you on fire.
"You taste so good, sweet girl," Marc groans, licking his lips.
He dips his finger into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his thumb and raising his hand to your mouth.
"Open, baby," he says, swiping across your bottom lip. You do as he says, opening your mouth and taking his thumb onto your tongue, tasting yourself on him. You suck ever so slightly, though it's enough to send Marc into a crazed hunger. He fully attaches his lips to your clit, licking and sucking as he enters a finger into your hole, hooking it right where you needed him to.
"Oh my God, Marc... Fuck- Feels so fucking good," you moan, your head lulling to the side as he eats you out like he'll never touch you again.
"That's it, baby," he praises as you moan; something he'd do every so often as an act of incentive; of devotion, "Take what you need."
At that, you let your hips snap up, your clit bumping his nose with a strangled moan from you as Marc's hand makes its way up your stomach, grabbing at the flesh of your hips to keep you in place - just enough, though, that he'd still have control over you.
"Fuck, Marc... Need you," you whine, rolling your hips against him.
"You have me, sweetheart," he chuckles, the vibrations from the wonderous melody of his laugh like electricity against your aching core.
"Mh-mh," you moan, shaking your head, "Wanna fuck you."
"Oh, really?" he chuckles, ceasing his actions on your clit much to your dismay. He climbs on top of you, holding himself just inches from your face. He places a delicate kiss to your lips, but you're having none of it- pulling his lips to yours like they're your only source of oxygen. Passionate; all the yearning for him pouring out of your lips onto his.
"Please? I've been such a good girl for you- waited so long for you to come home... Didn't even touch myself," you mutter between kisses.
"Oh, fuck, y/n. You can't say shit like that," he groans as you feel him grow insatiably hard against your thigh.
"Can't help it," you groan, rutting your hips into him, "I need you to know how you make me feel."
"I'm boutta make you feel a whole lot better, dollface," he smirks.
To Be Continued...
#smut#marc spector smut#marc spector#moon knight smut#moon knight x you#pining#marvel#marvel smut#jake lockley#steven grant#steven grant smut#jake lockley smut
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