Tumgik
#mcu fanfic
Note
I would like to humbly request a little sub Loki action for the kink drabbles 🙏 maybe something with him being ridden and realizing that he's into it
I hope this pleases!
"Use Me"
Loki lives to be your plaything.
Content Warning (18+ ONLY): Sub!Loki, riding, mentions of orgasm denial Word Count: ~850
Tumblr media
No one’s head is ever higher than a Prince’s. Even in lovemaking, a Prince must be dominant. He is the stallion, the stud. He fathers the future of his country. A Prince flaunts his superiority from the throne room to the bedroom.”
…but how could he obey the old Asgardian proverb when you were just so strong and irresistible?
Loki didn’t feel like a Prince whenever he visited your bed. He lost all sense of power and pride at first glance. You didn’t match the usual standard of Asgardian beauty: delicate, sweet, and soft. Your body and personality were imposing, demanding. You were never afraid to take up space, or claim what you wanted, which made the younger Prince drool with desire whenever you walked by, swinging your hips with that showoffish gait that said, “try me on for size, if you dare!”
He was shocked to learn that nothing gave him more deep, dark, delectable pleasure than falling at your feet and relinquishing all control over to you.
He worshiped you from the first night you were together. He kneeled before your naked body, offering gifts, massages, and favors with his fingers and tongue. The more he visited you, the more he realized that he was able to throw off the stresses and expectations of royalty. He could become a pathetic little puddle underneath you, your willing, devoted fuck toy.
The candles flickered irregularly as you swung a large, muscular thigh over Loki’s rolling, needy hips, his erection tall and throbbing. As if to tease the poor Loki, you didn’t sit on it right away, choosing instead to hover your dripping pussy just out of reach of his little head, cum already beading out from the tip.
“Use me…uuughhh…” Loki moaned helplessly under you.
You shook your head, clicking your tongue the way a scolding nanny would. He wasn’t ready enough. “You need to brace yourself a bit more first, darling, or else you won’t be able to keep up. I’m feeling quite itchy this evening.”
“D…don’t wait for me. I’m yours to enjoy and brutalize,” he added. “P..please?”
“You are entirely too eager tonight,” you said, unrolling your seductive grin across your face. Taking a long, sharp fingernail, you traced the middle of Loki’s face, down his nose, over his moist lips, pointed chin…when your finger hit his Adam’s apple, he sighed breathily, his hips moving his hungry dick upwards, needing to feed.
You narrowed your eyes, looking darkly into Loki’s wide, tearing ones. “As you wish.”
Rolling your hips in a circle, you teased him a moment longer, barely letting the tip of his erection peek between your folds…then, with as much demanding force as an army general, you impaled yourself, not bothering with the gentle formalities of a slow, easy slip.
Loki’s moan was a long, loud roll of thunder as he bottomed out, filling your walls with his girthy cock.  
As you began to rock back and forth, letting his cock stretch you as you pumped, Loki could only keep up with your rhythm with his gasps. He couldn’t believe the sight of your bouncing tits just inches above his nose. He wanted to put his face in between them and bite. But if he did so without your permission, you would probably punish him by refusing to let him cum.
The last time you nearly got off simple tormenting him, making him watch as you fucked your hand to completion, his hand ties behind his back so he couldn’t relieve the pain of welling pleasure in his pulsing cock. Perhaps you could do that again, but another night. 
Instead, Loki reached up and greedily grabbed a breast in each hand, watching you gyrate and grunt with every buck of your hips. 
Orgasm was knocking at your cunt, so you let loose and squinted your eyes shut, focusing on your quickening pace while Loki’s arms flew to his sides, gripping at the sides of the mattress with desperate, clawing fingers as he braced for his fall. His teeth were digging into his lower lip, but the animalistic whines and moans behind it were still singing in sweet harmony with each of your breaths. 
 As your senses spilled out in one final flood, you came hard around his cock, unable to help yourself as you used it to finish, grinding so fast and hard that Loki shouted your praises to the sky. He felt your quaking walls shiver around him, and that, combined with how completely chaotic and maddened by carnal gratification, made him buck against you and orgasm. His primal shrieks filled your ears like a symphony as he painted your womb with his seed, helpless to think of anything else but the cloud of ecstasy obscuring his view. 
He moaned with displeasure as you dismounted him, swinging your beautiful leg back around to lie beside him, bathing in sexual afterglow, feeling like Freya herself. 
You and Loki both giggled as you looked down and saw that his member had not gone down for rest, but was still tall and eager for a second ride, this time, completely drenched in your arousal. 
No one’s head is ever higher than a Prince’s.
Tumblr media
Visit my MASTERLIST! Still taking any requests for kinky Loki drabbles. If anyone has Bucky or Steve reqs, I will be open to taking those as well.
@queen-paladin @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @acidcasualties @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @simplyholl @glitchquake @foxherder
107 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 8 months
Note
May I please request Bucky Barnes x female reader and her saying it's to big 
Fuck yes, activating my size kink I see.
Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, praise, size kink, mating press, clit stimulation, slight self-doubt from Reader, gentle!Bucky
Word count: 0.8k
Ao3
A/N: I'm a little bit behind on the MCU but I'll catch up before The Marvels for sure.
Tumblr media
When Bucky told you he was big you did believe him but at the same time how big could he really be right? Big enough to need to make you come with his fingers first and even then he hesitated. You did too, when you saw how long and thick he was. "I get why you wanted to use all that lube."
Bucky laughed to himself as he pulled his fingers away from your folds, "Is it warm? My fingers would be a little cold otherwise. Also, I wanted to get the flavored one so you could do this." He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, tasting so sweet that you could have made yourself come again just from sucking his fingers off. "I'm gonna put it in now okay? If it's too much tell me and I can back off."
With a wet pop you released his fingers but not his arm, instead pushing it to your boob, feeling the cold metal of his palm against your stiff nipple. It was always odd to you, how despite it not being that cold most of the time there was a noticeable temperature difference between his left and right hands. His cock was always warm for you though.
Your hips jumped when the broad tip pushed past your entrance, his cock barely sinking in before your body was screaming that it was too much for you despite the careful prep and how wet you were. "You're too big, feels like... if you push it in I... I'm sorry but..." Bucky's hands cupped your cheeks, slowly moving them up and down, his cock very still.
"It's okay. We said we'd go slow remember? You've done amazing for me so far. I can feel your pussy tightening up, sucking me in, wanting my cock. I know you can take me, I'll help you. Trust me?" His big eyes were so full of love, and tiny bit of worry, but he was touching you so slowly, almost making you forget about the uncomfortable pressure between your thighs.
"I trust you with my life Bucky. I do. But I... what if I can't take you? I don't want you to be disappointed and-" His finger pressed against your lips, shushing your self-doubts. He smiled, his cock sinking in a bit more. This time you bit his finger, not too hard cause you didn't want to break your teeth. "Bucky."
When you stopped whimpering he moved his hands to your hips instead, "Gonna lift you up a little, might make it easier for you to take me from a different angle."
That angle turned out to be your legs over his shoulders, him almost squatting and your hands clenching desperately into the sheets as his cock dove in deeper. He was about half way when he stopped to breathe.
"Look at it baby, look at where you're taking me, look at how your cunt spreads open for my cock. This is yours now okay? You can ride it any time you want. Once you get used to my size, I just know you'll be unable to get enough. It's the perfect size for me to sink my cock into when I come home don't you think? Aren't you perfect for me?" He waited, warm lips pressed against your ankle, your ass resting against his muscular thighs, his warm fingers still on your clit. He was like a dream come true.
"Yeah. Perfect. You're perfect. We are perfect. A perfect fit, your big cock in me." There was just a bit his length left. It began to hurt, so much, which was apparent in your whimpers. You couldn't take the rest of him like this so you reached down and started rubbing your clit, feeling spikes of pleasure as your pussy tightened around Bucky's dick. "I need to come."
Bucky seemed hypnotized by your fingers moving between your legs, he moved his away so he could have the perfect view of what you were doing. "That's beautiful, yeah keep going, come all over my dick." His voice was so breathy, like he couldn't believe you were doing this in front of him with this much confidence. "So good, I'll make your pussy feel even better."
He started moving slowly, pulling out to the tip and then back in, each time past the previous point. You didn't know if you should look at his cock, your hand, or Bucky's eyes. Oh. His eyes were fluttering. He was close too. Well that gave you even more of a reason to take all of him, to come.
"So deep." You gasped, our fingers rolling over your clit in quick circles right before your vision went white and you felt it, Bucky's big cock, buried inside you to the balls.
"You did it baby, you took all of me, that's my good girl, my perfect girl. I knew you could, you look so sexy right now." He could only thrust in a few times, full, deep, complete thrusts and then you were truly filled up. A wave of warm, thick, gooey cum splashing your insides, flowing into your womb, dripping from your abused pussy while Bucky seemed determined to fuck it back in, to not let a drop go to waste.
5K notes · View notes
fandoms-writings · 5 months
Text
Now or Never
Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)
Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)
Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)
A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.
Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist
Tumblr media
You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves. 
Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth. 
You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice. 
Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask. 
You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.
Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker. 
"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?" 
"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?" 
"Not currently, why?" 
"Can I come over for a minute?"
"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker. 
"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed. 
"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?" 
You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it." 
"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe." 
"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way. 
It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you. 
He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time. 
But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time. 
"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again." 
You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips. 
"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you. 
"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?" 
He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"
You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no." 
"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way. 
You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked. 
"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea.  "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true." 
"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?" 
You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?" 
He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it." 
You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag. 
It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home. 
You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up. 
Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?
He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward. 
"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you. 
You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze. 
"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward. 
"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise." 
You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."
You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white. 
"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out. 
Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up. 
"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach." 
Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it." 
"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done." 
You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair. 
"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment. 
Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded. 
"Is there a. . .  specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious. 
"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess." 
"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?" 
You stilled for a second, shaking your head. 
He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard. 
You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?" 
He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all." 
"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees. 
"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first." 
Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?" 
He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together. 
You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over.  About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -
"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?" 
The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked. 
He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head. 
Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you. 
"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded. 
"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said. 
"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?" 
 The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?” 
Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours. 
“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him,  he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”
You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked. 
Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did. 
You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs. 
“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.” 
Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you. 
“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head. 
"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever." 
Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?" 
His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years." 
It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his. 
So you did.
His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans. 
Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again. 
"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you." 
~~~
You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom. 
The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. 
"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise." 
You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach. 
 "Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt. 
You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head. 
"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous." 
You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you. 
"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh." 
"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights. 
"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it." 
His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts. 
"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping. 
"Please." 
He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you. 
"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?" 
The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip. 
His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit. 
"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something. 
"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt. 
"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot. 
"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat. 
 "I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do." 
He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable. 
"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me." 
You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew. 
"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach." 
The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open. 
"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"
"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him. 
"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?" 
You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue. 
You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves. 
"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you." 
"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?" 
He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you. 
"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good." 
He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence. 
You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it. 
"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled. 
"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue. 
"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."
Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair. 
He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again. 
"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that." 
 Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered. 
"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?" 
A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin. 
He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back. 
Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows. 
You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube. 
Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise." 
"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin. 
"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss. 
The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind. 
He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier. 
A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more. 
"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked. 
"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest. 
You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder." 
He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already. 
"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot. 
"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him. 
"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."
"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again. 
It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you. 
"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?" 
A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over. 
Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist." 
You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled. 
"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."
The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it. 
Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me." 
The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him. 
You were sure you screamed. 
"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could. 
He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted. 
He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again. 
"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago. 
You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect." 
A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?" 
You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"
"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again." 
Tumblr media
As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!
If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi
If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <;3 @remis-library​ 
2K notes · View notes
seikkoi · 6 months
Text
𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning
content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,
genre: pure smut, minimal braincells
word count: 1,554
Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.
Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.
It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 
You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 
Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.
“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 
“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.
“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”
That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 
You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.
“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.
A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 
Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 
“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.
Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 
“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.
“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.
Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.
Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.
“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.
You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 
You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 
“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 
You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 
“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.
“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”
1K notes · View notes
intrepidacious · 1 year
Text
almost believing
Tumblr media
summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
word count: 5.4k
warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe
please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.
a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!
masterlist | read on ao3
Tumblr media
Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.
After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.
Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.
You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.
"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.
But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.
Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.
Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.
"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.
"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.
For like a week.
"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.
"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."
"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.
"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.
"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.
"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.
Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …
Clearly, you were wrong.
Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.
He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.
The mission call feels like your last chance.
A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.
That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.
"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.
"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"
Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.
You purse your lips and join the staring.
Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."
"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"
"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.
"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.
Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.
"I’ll see you later."
You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.
For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.
Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.
Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.
Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".
It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.
That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.
You need to change your lockscreen.
***
Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.
Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.
"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."
He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."
"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"
Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."
Of course he’s going to be fine.
You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."
"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?
For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.
"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"
There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.
"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.
"I’ve got something for you."
You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.
Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.
"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.
"Try it on, then."
It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.
Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.
"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."
He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.
This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.
Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.
"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.
"Mhm."
Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.
You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.
"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.
You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.
"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."
"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."
You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.
Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.
***
"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."
"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."
"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.
You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.
This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.
Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.
"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.
You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.
Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."
The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.
"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."
You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.
When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.
Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.
When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?
But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.
So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?
***
You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.
It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.
But damn if he’s not good at it.
It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.
Hearts are often stupid like that.
A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.
There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.
You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"
"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.
Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.
It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.
Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.
That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.
"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.
"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."
He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."
You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.
It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.
"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.
"Maybe a little," you say.
The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.
It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.
He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."
You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.
"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"
"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."
"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"
Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.
"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"
"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."
"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."
You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"
You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.
For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.
"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"
"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.
"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."
You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.
He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.
Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.
"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."
There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.
"Dance with me?"
You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.
You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.
"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."
"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.
Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.
You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.
"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.
"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.
You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."
With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."
The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.
You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.
Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.
"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.
You’d almost forgotten about the mission.
"Val is here," you say quietly.
His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"
"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."
"Why didn’t you say something?"
"I … There wasn’t time."
"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."
You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.
The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.
Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.
You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.
He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."
"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.
"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."
"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.
"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."
The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.
You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.
You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.
Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.
He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.
You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.
"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.
Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.
You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.
In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.
"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."
Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.
"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."
You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."
***
Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.
Your lips are still tingling with it.
Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.
"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.
Your defenses shoot up again.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.
"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."
"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.
"Doesn’t make it right."
"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."
"Y/N—"
"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."
"You know why I’m leaving."
"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."
He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."
"Don’t remember what?!"
"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."
The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.
You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.
"You should talk to him. Be honest."
"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."
"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"
"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"
"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."
"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.
"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."
"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."
"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"
"Love?"
"I mean, obviously?!"
"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.
"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"
"I thought you hated me."
You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"
"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."
It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"
Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"
"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.
His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.
"I don’t understand," you whisper.
"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."
This time, you’re the one to lean in.
Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.
You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.
The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."
You break up with a snort.
"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.
You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."
"Of what?"
"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."
Bucky groans and shuts you up again.
(A few years later, you get the ring back.)
Tumblr media
happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!
5K notes · View notes
muddyorbsblr · 3 months
Text
onyx pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)
Tumblr media
An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.
Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.
Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.
And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.
Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.
You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.
Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"
"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.
"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."
"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.
Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.
You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."
You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.
"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"
The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.
"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."
You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.
"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"
It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."
Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"
"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"
The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"
His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."
"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."
You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.
"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.
Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.
"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."
He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.
"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."
Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.
"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."
Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.
"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"
"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."
"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."
Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."
"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.
Tumblr media
The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.
"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."
With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.
The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.
"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"
You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."
"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"
"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.
"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"
"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."
"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"
Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.
"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.
Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.
"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."
The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."
A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"
He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."
In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"
Tumblr media
A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover
929 notes · View notes
mvltisstuff · 6 months
Text
teenage fever - p.p **
Tumblr media
summary: peter helps cool his girl down after she gets in trouble at school
peter parker x reader
smut warning pookies 🤭
“got detention today, don’t have to drive me home :(“
peter saw the text the second it arrived, happy to see y/n’s name flash upon his screen. however, his face matched the emoji she put when he noticed what it said.
“what happened? i’ll pick you up and we can head back together after, okay?”
she left a little thumbs up on the message. “i’ll explain later, i’m just annoyed rn”
so, he waited in the parking lot for her. he never minds waiting for her, especially when it’s as rare as this. she never gets in trouble, she’s always been a good student, so he’s completely lost as to why she’s being punished. he sits in his car on his phone for a bit, still pondering why she may have gotten detention.
he saw her walk out of the back doors of the school, heading toward his car with her bag slung over one shoulder. he could instantly see the frustration on her face, and was ready to listen and be the best boyfriend he could.
she walked up, opening the door and sighing as she sat in the passengers seat. “you’ll never fucking guess.”
“i really don’t think i could,” he replies, looking into her face that almost has a smirk on it.
“my shitty calc teacher, right?”
“mhm, go on.”
“she reported my outfit to the office and gave me a detention for being disrespectful about it. all i said was that my outfit was fine! people wear shit like this all the time, and suddenly it’s a problem when i do it?”
peter realizes that he hasn’t gotten a good look at y/n today. at least he hasn’t seen her around school when they have this schedule. so, he takes his time now to scan the outfit that the math teacher supposedly hated.
her hair was pulled back lightly, a few pieces left out in the front. it shaped her face beautifully, the face peter admires every day. he looked down to her top, it was white with thin straps, the ends almost going into a corset-type of look. her waist was perfectly shaped, the one that peter always runs his hands down when standing beside her. the top pushed her boobs up as well, complimenting her lovely round breasts and cleavage that she showed. her shorts were just under her belly button, the dark blue showing off her hips and the way her thighs looked. he tried to sneak by a peek to her ass, turning peter into a hormonal freshman again. he takes in her entire figure, thinking about all the times he’s touched it, kissed it, pleasured it.
“you good?” y/n asks, her brows furrowing when they notice the blank stare on peters face. “babe, stop staring at my boobs, i’ve had enough of that today.”
“sorry!” he exclaims. “i think your outfits good- or hot- well you always look beautiful no matter what you wear.”
“thanks,” she smiles, seeing through his act. just by the way she looks at him, peter can feel himself getting warmer. every single time she fans her lashes while she looks up at him sends goosebumps down his arms, leading to his crotch as he shuffled uncomfortably in the driver seat. “you’re so funny sometimes.”
“what?” he asks.
“i just turned you on by stepping into this car, peter. don’t act all innocent on me,” she tells him, tilting herself more angled toward him. he notices the way her arms get closer together, pushing her tits together and peter can feel himself getting harder. “wow, maybe my teacher was right. maybe i am too distracting.”
she pulls a grin onto her face, letting her hand rest on his thigh. he shivers lightly, placing his own hand on top of hers. she places a hand on the side of his face, pushing his lips against her own. just by kissing her boyfriend, y/n could almost forget about the trouble she was in. she’d do it all again if it lead her to this, though. his hand brushes against her knuckles, lightly floating her hand over his sweatpants.
they are both fully facing each other, eyes shut as they fall into the others mouth. peter could always make her feel like they were the only people in the world, and no one else mattered.
he could easily taste the flavored gloss she had on, the scent instantly entering his nose as she inches closer to him. his fingers ran over her jaw and over her hair, admiring the silky strands on her head that he loved so much. he wishes the noises she made were louder, so he could hear her little noises perfectly, just the ones that turn him on more. it lasts for minutes, her hands trailing down to his thick biceps from all the crime fighting he did. her touch was always warm besides the cool feeling of her few rings on his skin. he let himself wander down to her waist, caressing the side before landing them onto her hips.
“y/n,” he groans into her mouth, pulling away slowly to lean his head against hers.
“shh,” she cuts him off. “i know what you want.”
“i want you to wear this every day.”
“yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, chuckling at him as he writhes under her touch. one of his hands still remains on her hip as she starts to inch her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. he can feel himself getting antsy for her to touch him, to do anything to him to relieve the pressure in his body.
his wish is her command in an instant, helping him to pull down the sweatpants past his crotch to reveal his boxers underneath. when she peels down the boxers, his hardened dick is immediately in her grasp, her mouth watering just by looking at his. she leaves a soft kiss on his tip, only relieving an gram of tightness through his abdomen.
she wraps her hand around his shaft, starting to pump lightly and gets the sweetest moan from peters lips. she adores seeing him like this, the way he falls into her grasp and lets her please him. “jesus, y/n.”
“i know, baby,” she smiles up at his blushed face while he looks at his favorite sight. she takes her tongue and drags it up the underside of his dick, wrapping her mouth around him and keeping her hands on the end. peters hands fly around the place at the intensity, not knowing where to put them until he places one on y/n’s head and the other on the side of his thigh.
she bobs her head up and down on him, sucking his dick with such ease that it makes him more turned on than he’s ever been. he hates to think of this, but he thinks of her in that class, her perfect body on display for him as the teacher eyes her.
the way his dick throbs and jumps makes her feel the arousal form in her heat, just knowing that she’s completely wet over hearing peters moans for her. she pulls back, letting the saliva form in her mouth before sucking her mouth back onto him. she looks over at his veiny hands clutching the car door, his chest heavily breathing and heart pounding. “y/n, fuck i’m really close.”
she signals to him that he can come by just continuing her motions on him. her extra hand moves down to his balls while she fondles them as he groans out into the thick air of the car. when he finally reaches his orgasm, his cum coats the inside of her mouth, settling in her tongue as she wipes some from her lip. he laughs when he watches her swipe some off her chin and swallow the rest, only finding it hotter as he gets hard again.
once peter catches his breath again, he loops his finger through the belt holes in her shorts, pulling them up toward him and he’s able to see the curve of her ass in them and he watches her thigh swing over him, just remembering all the times he’s been in-between them.
“wait,” he starts. “get these off.” he points to the shorts, helping her peel them off her legs to noticed the lacy pair of panties she had on underneath. he doesn’t bother to take her shirt off, not wanting to waste another moment where he’s not inside of her. “you look so hot today, baby.”
“thanks, peter,” she grins against his lips. “but i can just tell from how hard you are right now.” she grinds herself into his crotch, the fabric of her underwear rubbing against him, making him moan. he reached down, moving her panties to the side and runs his fingers through her warm folds. she pushes her warmth up against his dick, sliding his length through her slick pussy.
“you’re this wet for me already?”
“you’re crazy if you think i haven’t been this wet for you all day.” she whispers into his ear. “honestly, there wasn’t a period today that i didn’t think about you fucking me in this car, peter. even in detention.”
“it’s a good thing mr. stark tinted my windows, can’t see anything in here.”
she continues to rock her hips against him before he reaches underneath them. he shoves two of his fingers into her vagina, craving the taste of her on his tongue. she sighs out at the feeling of him filling her with just two of his fingers, only to be disappointed when he pulls them out again.
he brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before reaching back down to his own dick, slipping it through her folds before sinking into her pussy.
they moan out simultaneously, instantly feeling somewhat relieved of the horniness they felt early. he still grabs a hold of her waist, helping bounce her up and down on his shaft as he moans out sweet nothings in her ear. “oh my god, y/n, this feels so good.”
she runs her fingers through his hair, ruining the small amount of gel he had applied that morning. his own arms reached around, pulling her into his chest and having her lean against him, his head fully in her soft tits and he was finally in heaven.
he reached another one of his hands down, circling her clit with his thumb and getting closer with the thought of him inside of her. he starts to tease the small nerves, making her moan out and pull him closer against her. “holy shit, peter!”
he starts thrusting up into her, using his lower body to slam into her repeatedly. he admired the way her boobs jiggle to the action of him fucking her. the coil in his stomach only began to tighten more, knowing that his second orgasm was close. he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself and resist cumming inside her warm pussy, but luckily birth control exists.
“peter, i’m gonna cum,” she announces, feeling his thrusts get choppier inside of her. “fuck, fuck, fuck! peter!” she utters out to each of his last thrusts before feeling his own release warm inside of her. the fireworks inside of her went off, feeling the intense stream of pleasure through her nerves. her heart thumps against her chest as she comes down from the high, peters thrusts only being slow and sensual now.
“god, i’ll never get enough of you.” peter mumbles into her neck, giving it light pecks as they both relax in each others arms.
“thank you,” she says.
“for what?”
“well, first of all for that awesome sex, and second, just for being there. you didn’t have to wait for me.”
“i’m glad i did, trust me. i’ll always wait for you.” he tells her, making a cheesy beam grow on her mouth. “i love you.”
“i love you, too, peter.” she plants one last kiss to his lips before moving back to her own seat.
lil extra smth
when peter and y/n walk in together, he slightly trails behind her, noticing the lightness and excitement in her mood. she walks into the room, the fellow avengers sitting around. sam, bucky, and steve were all playing cards games at the table as nat watched over them. tony sat on the couch, reading over something about him that was released in the news paper.
they hear friday announce that y/n and peter have arrived, and they surely didn’t expect a bubbly y/n in her outfit to come waltzing in. “hi, guys!” she says, looking around and giving them a nice smile as peter walks in, too.
“what’s got her so bubbly today?”
“i got a detention today!” she says, with no apparent upset on her face. “sorry we’re later than normal.” she looks at nat next making eye contact and winking at her as she skips away to her room. peter trails behind, almost shamefully walking away from the rest of them. nat just looks at her drink smirking while it swirls in the cup, knowing exactly what’s got y/n so thrilled. she gives a certain face to everyone else, signaling what went down.
“are you kidding me?” sam complains. “you’re telling me parker got laid today and i didn’t?”
690 notes · View notes
spidey-webz · 2 months
Text
Sleeping with Bucky — headcanons
Tumblr media
A/N: this is really just fluffy bucky barnes brain rot because I felt like it!
Warnings: fluff, mentions of ptsd/insomnia
Masterlist | Askbox
Bucky really struggles with insomnia for years
It’s hard for him to sleep in an ordinary bed but he gets used to it when he starts to stay in yours
And he loves to cuddle until he gets tired
Especially when you comb your fingers through his hair or hold him close
He’s very much the big spoon most of the time but whenever he’s struggling, he loves to be held instead
His insomnia gets better with time, but the nightmares stay
You love to give him reassuring kisses whenever he wakes up covered in sweat and tears
Both of you have started developing a routine for nightmares
You will get both of you a warm cup of tea and then talk about it (if he wants to) or just spend time in silence together
Soft kisses are exchanged to comfort him!
Bucky loves to fall asleep while holding you in his arms or being held by you
It makes him feel a lot safer
You sometimes intertwine your fingers before you fall asleep and hold each other close
He adores to watch you sleep whenever it’s taking him a little longer
Bucky usually moves around a lot in his sleep but he’s always careful not to wake you
(But if he does, he apologises very quickly)
Sometimes you two listen to podcasts together before you fall asleep – especially when Bucky is having a hard time
It calms him down a lot and he loves to try different ones every now and then
He loves to wait for you to wake up just so he can give you a kiss first thing in the morning
“Good morning, doll.”
Bucky always has dishevelled hair when he wakes up but it’s incredibly adorable
And he has pillow lines on his face
You’ve probably got a ton of pictures in your phone of a sleeping Bucky
Or when he just woke up
Bucky is grateful for your patience whenever you sleep next to each other and he has a rough night
He’s definitely decorated to saying he loves you every night before he goes to bed
328 notes · View notes
takenbypeter · 11 months
Text
Anything to Make Him Smile
Tumblr media
Bucky Barnes x reader
Words: 723
Number 24: "Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"
Part 2 - Anything To Make You Smile
Tumblr media
Bucky Barnes.
Practically the most stoic man you’ve ever met.
You’ve only interacted with him a few times, with you being new to the workplace and all but whenever you caught sight of him, he was frowning.
You offered him a smile each time you saw him passing in the hallways but with each time he’d just move his eyebrows slightly in acknowledgment.
The only time you’ve ever seen Bucky Barnes smile was when he was with Sam. And it wasn’t just a smile, it was almost full on laughter when those two got together.
That’s actually what first got you curious in the first place.
The first time you saw his smile you couldn’t believe it. You honestly didn’t even know it was possible that he could make that expression.
His wide toothed smile was charming yet authentic and since catching sight of it you made it a goal to try to make him smile just once. It was honestly stupid but yeah it was a goal of yours. You didn’t try too hard though, not wanting to push it or be weird about the whole situation. You’ve given him genuine compliments, tried small talk, brought him breakfast, honestly it may have been a little much but he never really cracked for you. And then it hit you, what if he just didn’t like you.
I mean you wouldn’t hold it past him, but you’ve really never given him reason to dislike you. After some more thinking you’ve realized that all the small talk, all the compliments you’ve given, what if you’re just the creepy coworker to him. And with that thought you made the decision to back off not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
You thought your lack of presence would be unnoticed. But what you didn’t know was Bucky actually found your presence appealing. At first it was annoying the way you seemed to always want to talk to him but after the first few times it became less irritating and more comforting. Most people were intimidated by him but you, you went out of your way to look for him. So when you stopped he of course noticed. He wasn’t going to say anything but he noticed.
Well this particular morning you were by the coffee machine chatting with Sam when Bucky strode up to the machine making himself a cup. Was he eavesdropping on the conversation? Maybe.
You were in the middle of the story enthusiastically running it by Sam as he sipped his morning coffee, enthralled by your tale.
Bucky listened as you told your story, and as you deliver the ending, he can’t help but feel the corners of his lips tug upwards as he stands in his little corner. Its not like the line was even funny, it’s how you delivered it and how excited you were that really got him.
Bucky thought nothing of the moment but he heard you stop. Curious he turned his head and saw you looking at him, surprise written on your face. Confused, he waited before you pointed with a grin, “have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"
James’ smile dropped a little surprised by your sudden comment towards him, “you did! I totally just got you to smile! God do you know how long I’ve been trying to get this guy to crack for me? You make it look so easy,” you added, directing that towards Sam who’s clearly entertained by the events that were unfolding in front of him.
“You’ve been trying to make me…smile?” He asked, confirming if he heard you correctly.
“Yesss,” you held out the last consonant clearly excited, “and I finally did it, without even trying in the moment.”
Bucky stared at you like you had two heads, before grabbing a bagel from the common table, “yeah okay,” he said, taking a bite and walking away.
Sam just hit your shoulder gaining your attention, “don’t worry, he’ll come around, it took me years with that guy.”
His words gave you some comfort at least as you grabbed your mug and nodded at his words before taking a big sip of your drink.
Bucky definitely thought you were weird now but who cares?
You got him to crack and that’s all that mattered. Baby steps.
-
Dialogue Prompts
1K notes · View notes
wandanatsgf · 1 month
Text
While You Were Sleeping
Tumblr media
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 6.3k
Summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular. 
Author's note: This is basically just the Sandra Bullock movie While You Were Sleeping, but with Natasha as Peter and Wanda as Jack. I made a couple of changes to speed things up and make it my own but the plot is pretty much the same.
Today was Christmas Day, a joyous time for everyone. New York was beautiful this time of year. Bells were ringing, snow was falling, and lights were glistening all around, but it’s not like you would get to see much of it because of your job as a transit worker. That is where you currently are, stuck behind a booth.
You sit behind the same booth day in and day out, giving out tickets and occasionally helping people with directions. You’re unable to see anything but the subway until you leave. It’s a very monotonous job, but it pays the bills, and you can’t complain about that.
Even your home life is rather boring. You live in a tiny, slightly run down apartment building, but at least the super is nice. You can’t say the same for his son, Leo, though, who hits on you every chance he gets. You take it though because you won’t be able to find an apartment this cheap anywhere else.
The only thing that makes your day better is her. She enters the subway station everyday at 8am to wait for the 8:15 train and then she comes back on the 5:15 train. Sometimes she stops to talk to you for a few minutes, and it always makes your day. So far you’ve learned that her name is Natasha, she works in finance, and judging by the gold ring on her finger, she’s engaged. But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming about her. It’s not like your little crush would ever lead to anything anyway.
She always has her red hair in a fashionable updo and her clothes are the latest styles. You can tell by the gold Rolex on her wrist and the tone of her voice that she is someone important, someone with money.
You like to imagine that it’s you she’s talking to in that stern voice whenever she's on the phone, you she goes home to in her, what you assume to be, lavish apartment. But you know that idea is just a fantasy that you use to escape your boring life, and you’re okay with that. It still doesn’t stop you from admiring her though.
“The things you’d give just to lay under her,” you think to yourself. The thought makes you blush and turn your head away from the redhead who is standing just a few feet away from you near the edge of the subway platform. 
You suddenly hear a scream and see two people running away with what looks like Natasha’s purse, but you don’t see Natasha. People start to crowd around the platform, looking over the edge at something. You run out of the booth you had been sitting in and you peer over the edge of the platform and there you see Natasha, lying motionless. Without thinking, you climb down onto the tracks next to her.
“Natasha,” you say, trying to coax her awake. “Come on, wake up," you say trying to wake her. A loud horn startles you, causing you to look up. A train is coming right for the two of you. You try to pull her off the tracks, but you’re too weak, so you do the only thing you can think of to do. You climb on top of her, wrapping your arms around her. You roll the two of you out of the way just in time, landing on the shoulder of the rails.
Your heart is beating fast as you check the two of you over, making sure the both of you are okay. Natasha still hasn't woken up, she must have a concussion or some sort of brain injury, you realize. With the help of some other civilians, you're able to get the both of you to safety. Pretty soon, the two of you are in your respective ambulances on the way to the hospital.
You're checked over pretty quickly and discharged. The only injury you had were a couple of scrapes, luckily. As you're being discharged, you ask the nurse about Natasha, but she says that she can't tell you anything.
"Ok thanks anyway," you say turning to leave.
"I was going to marry her," you say under your breath to yourself, referencing you silly little fantasies. You start to walk out the door when the nurse calls you back.
"If that's the case I can take you right to her," the nurse tells you. You don't have the heart to correct her and you're too embarrassed to say anything. You're not even sure why you said that out loud, but you did, and you're thankful because now you can check on Natasha.
She's laying in the hospital bed. She has a cut on her forehead and all sorts of wires and machines hooked up to her. You sit down in a chair next to her, telling her that everything will be alright, but you're not even sure that she can hear you. You continue talking to her until you hear a loud ruckus in the hallway that then enters the room.
In walks an older, tall bearded man, a shorter brunette haired woman, and another blonde haired woman, who looks to be close to your age. They all file into the room with the doctor and the nurse from earlier right behind them.
"What's going on, what happened?" the man asks at the same time as his wife asks, "What's wrong with my baby?"
"I'm sorry but you daughter is in a coma," the doctor says. All three of these strangers faces crumble. "She'll pull through. She's healthy, her brain waves are good," the doctor adds.
"Brain waves?" the blonde girl says, mostly to herself, you think.
This is when you try to make your escape. You try to leave the room unnoticed while everyone is talking, when the doctor brings the attention onto you.
"Your daughter was pushed off of the subway platform, but this girl right here saved her," the doctor says, shoving you forward.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Natasha's father asks.
"Her fiancée," the nurse standing next to him says before you can explain. Suddenly the room is in an uproar with everyone talking over one another. You try to interject and explain that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but it's no use, so you just give in.
"Fiancée?" everyone questions.
"I didn't know Natasha has a fiancée," you hear someone say. "When did she leave Maria?" another person asks.
"I guess it makes sense that we don't know these things. We haven't really talked to Natasha in two years," the mother says. Everyone accepts this answer, and for that you are grateful.
You are about to try and leave again when someone starts speaking to you. "Thank you for saving our Natasha," Natasha's father says. He embraces you and it's then that you know that you can't tell this kind family the truth, at least not yet. You let him embrace you and then the rest of the family joins the hug.
"Natasha won't be up for a while, why don't the four of you go get something to eat and then come back," the doctor suggests. Before you can even answer you are being pulled along by the family and led to the cafeteria, where they buy you some dinner.
"It's the least we could do," they say, which just makes you feel guiltier.
"So how did you and Natasha meet?" Natasha's mother, who you now know is named Melina, asks.
"We met at my job, I work at the subway as an attendant. She always takes the subway and one day we just got to talking and really hit it off," you tell them. You know the more you lie the more dangerous webs you spin, but you can't tell this family the truth now.
"What first caught your eye about her?" Yelena, who you now know is Natasha's sister, asks.
"Her smile, it's truly beautiful," you say, answering honestly.
"They're caps, 600 bucks a tooth," Alexei says under his breath, laughing to himself. You can't stop yourself from laughing too.
The more time you spend with this family, the more you fall in love with them. They're bright, cheery, and just so much fun to be around. You can tell that they truly love each other. At the same time, it makes you long for your family who is now long gone. Your mother died when you were a baby and your father a year ago, leaving you all alone. It's nice not to be alone again, and you don't want to let go of this feeling, at least not yet.
The four of you check on Natasha one last time before everyone decides to go their separate ways for the night.
"Dear," Melina says before you leave. ""Come celebrate Christmas with us tomorrow. I know tomorrow isn't Christmas but with everything that's happened today we didn't get to celebrate and we'd love to have you over."
"I'd love to celebrate with you," you tell her.
"Oh and Wanda will be there too! You haven't met her yet but I'm sure she'll love you," Yelena adds. She gives you her family's address and a hug before you walk out of the hospital and go home for the night.
The next day you are up bright and early, excited about seeing people and getting to be apart of a family, if only for a little while. You get dressed in a nice sweater and jeans and pretty soon you are standing at the Romanoff's door. You knock and a beautiful girl with auburn hair answers the door.
"Hi, who are you?" the girl asks.
"Y/n, who are you?"
"Oh you must be Natasha's fiancée. I'm Wanda, her adopted sister."
"It's nice to meet you," you say.
"It's nice to meet you too darling," Wanda tells you. The nickname sends a blush to your cheek, but you're not sure why. Wanda lets you into the house and you're quickly enveloped in a hug by the family.
"Y/n we're so glad you could make it," Melina says.
"Thank you for inviting me," you tell her. "And here's this," you tell her, handing her a cake you had purchased for them on your way home last night.
"Thank you hon this smells delicious." Melina goes and sets the cake on the counter and then everyone sits around the couch and Yelena and Wanda start to show you baby pictures of Natasha.
"This one is from when she saved a squirrel," Yelena says. "And this one is from when she won a spelling bee."
"She won a lot of those," Wanda adds, making you laugh.
The three of you look at Natasha's pictures for quite some time, but the whole time you can't take your eyes off of the girl sitting next to you. There's something about Wanda that is just magnetic, but maybe that's just a family trait, you assume.
"Family picture," Alexei yells out.
The four of them crowd around the tree and you stay seated, not wanting to ruin this moment.
"Y/n get up here," Melina tells you.
"Are you sure?" you ask, not wanting to join the photo and ruin it.
"Of course I'm sure, you're family now." Melina pulls you into the photo, having you stand next to Wanda.
"Say cheese," Alexei says, holding the camera out in order to capture everyone.
"Cheese," everyone says in unison.
"That's an amazing picture. That's going on the wall." Alexei passes the camera around and everyone agrees. When the camera gets to you, however, the picture knocks the wind out of you. You hadn't seen yourself look that happy in a long time. You're smiling and it's a genuine smile, not the smile you give to the strangers at work, but an actual smile. You looked like you belonged in this family, even if you really didn't.
The next thing the family does is presents, which you did not come prepared for.
"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," you tell the family.
"Your presence is enough dear. You've brought this family closer and we could never thank you enough for that," Melina tells you, making you tear up.
"We did get you something though," Yelena tells you after everyone has opened their gifts. Yelena hands you a beautifully wrapped package and inside is the most beautiful jacket you have ever seen. It's burgundy with a black fur trim. It's exactly your size and style and everything.
"It's perfect you guys. Thank you," you say, tears falling from your eyes.
"You don't need to thank us, you're family now," Wanda says.
The night goes by too fast for your liking, and before you know it, it's time for you to go home.
"You can't go home in that weather y/n," Yelena says. You know she's right, it's practically a blizzard out there, but you feel like you've taken enough of their kindness for granted.
"I should go home."
"That's nonsense," Melina says. "You can stay in the guest bedroom."
"Ok," you say quickly agreeing, not wanting to truly walk out of this home, and this family's life forever. Wanda shows you to the guest room and shows you where everything is.
"Let me know if you need anything honey," she tells you before walking off. The nickname once again causing you to blush.
You quickly settle into the room, but you have trouble falling asleep. It's like no matter what you do, you just can't sleep. You get up and out of bed, deciding to go get a glass of water. You pull a glass out of the cabinet and you start filling it up when you hear some noise behind you. You turn around to see Wanda.
"What are you doing up?" she asks.
"I couldn't sleep. You?"
"I couldn't sleep either."
The two of you stand their in silence for a while, neither sure what to say to the other, until Wanda finally breaks the silence.
"So how long have you and Nat been together?"
"About a year," you say, hoping that that is an acceptable answer. A low hmm is the only response that you get. You’re not sure what it means, but you try not to think too much into it.
“What do you do for work?” You ask the auburn haired girl, trying to fill the awkward silence.
“I’m an antiques dealer. I work for the family business.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
“It’s really not.” You can’t contain your laughter when she says this.
“Yeah it’s not but I think that’s still an interesting fact about you.”
“So what made you choose the transit authority?” Wanda asks you.
“Well a couple years ago my dad got sick. His bills were expensive and I just got the first job I could find. And then he died and here I am years later,” you explain. You don’t know it yet, but Wanda’s heart melts a little bit at this explanation, at how caring you are.
“I think that was very selfless of you.”
“Thank you Wanda.” Yet again a blush finds it’s way to your cheeks around this woman.
“So are you dating anyone?” You ask Wanda. You’re not quite sure why you asked her that. She thinks you’re with Natasha, but still a little selfish part of you wants to know.
“No I’m not. I’m single,” Wanda says, trying to slyly eye you up and down, but you catch her, which makes her cheeks pink. It’s a nice change of pace, being able to make her blush instead of the other way around. Wanda knows eyeing up her sisters fiancée is wrong, but it's harmless. It's not like she's going to act on her feelings.
Wanda looks away from you and moves to set her glass in the sink. She goes to walk away, when she turns around.
“Goodnight,” she says. She walks up to you, placing a light kiss on your cheek before making her way upstairs to her room.
“Goodnight,” you say back, not sure what else to say. You gently touch the place where her lips had met your skin and it brings a smile to your face.
After a while you decide to go to bed. You bring your glass of water with you and when you get to your room you set it on the nightstand. You climb into bed and drift off and as you dream, you dream of the beautiful auburn haired woman who is sleeping just a few doors down from you.
The next morning you have to work, so while the rest of the family is eating breakfast, you’re on your way out the door.
“We can’t wait to see you again,” Melina tells you while hugging you goodbye.
“I know we need to get together soon,” you tell her.
“We will,” she assures you. Alexei hugs you next, and wishes you well on your day.
After him the next person to hug you bye is Yelena, who promises that the next time you see her she will tell you plenty of embarrassing stories about Natasha, which you look forward to.
And then finally it is Wanda. “I’ll see you around,” you tell her, not quite sure what to say to her after last night.
“Yeah see you around,” she says back. She hugs you and you hug her back, neither one of you truly wanting to break off the hug, but you know that you have to.
You pull back from her and walk out the door, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your chest. You know what you’re doing is wrong, lying to this family. But it feels so nice to be apart of a family again, you don’t want to give it up. You decide to push these feelings down and make your out of the house.
Since you have a bit of time left before you have to go to work, you decide to go see Natasha. The drive to the hospital is quick and before you know it you're sitting beside Natasha, talking to her comatose body.
"Hi Natasha. I don't know if you can hear me, but I really hope you can. I'm the subway worker who saved you, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I hope you do. There's been a bit of a mix-up and everyone thinks I'm your fiancée. I've tried to explain but everything has just snowballed and I don't know what to do," you say. "I'm so sorry for what I'm doing. I hope when you wake up you can forgive me," you say. You go to stand up and leave, when a woman walks into the room.
"Are you Natasha Romanoff's fiancée?" The blonde woman asks. You assume she's a cop based off of the way she's dressed.
"Yes I am."
"I wanted to make sure her family got this," the woman says, handing you a small evidence bag that contains her wallet and keys, the two things the thieves didn't steal because they weren't in her purse.
"Thank you," you say to the woman, but you feel wrong for thanking her. You feel no better than the muggers who hurt Natasha. Because that's what you're doing, you're hurting Natasha and you're hurting her family with your lies that grow bigger and bigger everyday. But you can't tell the truth now, you don't want to lose them.
After the interaction with the cop you tell Natasha goodbye and you’re on your way to work. Your shift goes pretty smoothly, but the anxiety that has plagued you ever since this Natasha mess started doesn't go away, so you just try to ignore it. Pretty soon your shift is over and you're out the door.
Unbeknownst to you however, while you’re on your way home Wanda pays your apartment building a little visit, hoping to see you after your shift.
“Hi, do you live here? I’m looking for y/n y/l/n, this is her building right?” she asks a man who is outside working on his car.
“Yeah this is her building. I’m Leo the owner of this place,” he says, smacking the gum he has been chewing. If you had been there, you could've told Wanda that Leo was lying, that he's just the super's son, but you're not so she doesn't know.
Leo eyes Wanda up and down. The action gives her major creep vibes, but she stays rooted in her spot, determined to not let him know how he is affecting her.
“I was looking for y/n,” she explains. “I was just wondering if she’s here right now,” Wanda says, trying to keep her conversation with this man short and light.
“What do you need with my girl?” The sentence takes Wanda aback. What does he mean his girl?
“I’m sorry?”
“What do you want with my girlfriend?”
“I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“Well she is, even if she told you differently,” the man says defensively. This sends alarms ringing in Wanda’s head. And it is at this time that you walk up to the building.
“Hi Wanda,” you cheerfully greet her. “Leo,” you say, unable to keep the disdain from your voice. “What’re you doing here?”
“I just wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay.”
“Well that’s very sweet of you. Why don’t you come on up?” Wanda smiles and shakes her head yes, letting you lead her into the building and into your apartment.
“So Leo is,” Wanda says, the end of her sentence trailing off because she’s not sure what to say.
“Yeah he’s weird, crazy, whatever you want to call him,” you supply.
“Yeah that,” she laughs. “He said you were his girlfriend.”
“He always tells people that.” You roll your eyes, annoyed at Leo for lying to Wanda. “I’ve turned him down like a million times but he never listens, but he’s pretty harmless.”
“I’m glad he’s harmless at least.” You nod in agreement.
“So how are you holding up?” Wanda asks, referencing Natasha. The sympathy in her voice almost makes you want to tell her the truth about everything.
“I’m alright,” you say instead. “I’m keeping busy.”
“That's good, you know my family and I are here for you. Whatever you need y/n/n, you just have to ask." Wanda's response brings a smile to your face.
"Thank you Wanda," you say enveloping her in a hug. She wraps her arms around you and you melt into her. The two of you only breakaway when Natasha's keys, that you had forgotten about until now, softly poke Wanda.
"What's that?" Wanda asks. She knows they're not your keys in your pocket because you had placed yours in a dish by the door.
"Oh they're Nat's keys. A cop gave them to me earlier at the hospital."
"Have you been over to her place since?" Wanda travels off, not wanting to truly mention Natasha's accident.
"No, not yet." You softly shake your head.
"We could go now, it might be helpful," Wanda suggests. You know you should say no. This is an invasion of Natasha's privacy, but your curiosity and desire to be with Wanda win so you say yes.
The drive there is pleasant, the two of you converse for a while before Wanda pulls into the parking garage. The two of you get out of her car and you walk into the building, letting Wanda lead the way since you have no idea were you're going.
"So how often have you been here?" Wanda asks as the both of you ride up the elevator.
"Oh just once or twice," you say, hoping to cover up the truth. A soft hmm is the only response that you get. You pray that Wanda isn't on to you. Wanda leads the way to Natasha's apartment and you unlock the door with Natasha's keys after a bit of difficulty.
Wanda eyes you suspiciously while you wrestle with the keys. You've been here once or twice, shouldn't you know which way the key goes? Maybe you're just stressed, Wanda tells herself. It would make sense because Wanda certainly is.
The two of you walk into Natasha's apartment and you stare at everything starstruck. This place is so much nicer than you could have imagined.
"Wow," you say under your breath.
"You're looking a bit starstruck y/n, you're acting like you've never been here." Wanda laughs and you laugh with her, trying not to let her on to the fact that this is in fact your first time here.
"It's just every time I come here it just gets more beautiful I feel like," you say, hoping that's a logical excuse.
"Yeah I guess it is pretty nice. I prefer something a bit more homey."
"This place is missing a bit of a personal touch," you say, agreeing with what Wanda said about Natasha's lack of homey vibes. "It's very Natasha though."
"Yes very," Wanda says, agreeing with you this time." You're about to say something else when Wanda's phone starts to ring.
"Hello," she says into the receiver. "What, really? Ok we're on our way," she says before hanging up.
"Nat's awake," she says. There is excitement written all over Wanda's face, which you try to reciprocate, but on the inside all you feel is dread. You know in a few minutes everyone will know that you're a liar and you'll lose this family that you have created.
"Come on let's go," Wanda say. "And grab Nat's car keys, I wanna take her car." You do as Wanda says and the two of you make your way to the parking garage.
You walk in the direction that you hope Natasha's car is in, praying you don't look lost.
"You know which one is Natasha's car right? You where it's parked don't you?"
"Of course I do," you say, totally bluffing. You hit the lock button on the key fob, waiting to see which car's horn goes off. As luck would have it, the black corvette stingray in front of you goes off.
You slide into the drivers side while Wanda sits next to you on the passenger side. The whole way there all you can think about is how you hopefully just passed whatever sort of test Wanda was just putting you through. You think you passed, because Wanda doesn't ask you anymore questions. Before you know it you're at the hospital freaking out over seeing Natasha.
"I don't know if I can do this," you mutter. You can feel yourself starting to freak out, your anxiety climbing higher and higher.
"Of course you can," Wanda says. "It's just Natasha." Wanda places a comforting hand on your shoulder. Unfortunately her words do not help, but her actions do.
"Thanks Wanda."
"Anytime y/n." The two of you walk to Natasha's room and soon you're face to face with the woman you have had a crush on for a while. She's laying in bed, looking rather worse for wear.
"Hey Nat, look who's here," Wanda says.
"I'm sorry who's that?" Natasha asks, sitting up.
"Your fiancée, don't you recognize her?"
"I'm sorry I don't," Natasha says. It makes sense to you because of course she doesn't recognize you, but Natasha's words make Wanda run for the doctor.
"Stay with her, I'll be back," Wanda says.
"So how long have we been together?" Natasha asks once it's just the two of you.
"A year," you say, telling her the lie you've been telling everyone else.
"Oh," is the only thing Natasha says.
"Yeah," you say, even though you have no idea what that oh means. Pretty soon the doctor and Wanda walk back in, bringing a sense of relief to you.
"Natasha what's the last thing you remember?" The doctor asks as he walks in.
"Umm," Natasha says, really trying to think on her answer.
"I think breaking up with Maria."
"Ok," the doctor says.
"And what month and year is it?"
"January 1994." That answer shocks everyone in the room because while it is currently January, the year is 1995, not 1994.
"I'm sorry Natasha, but you seem to be missing a year of memories," the doctor says before he slips out.
"I guess it makes sense why she doesn't remember you now," Wanda says.
The only thing you can think of when you hear this is how great everything has worked out for you. You're grateful that you can stay in this family just a little bit longer, but then your conscious weighs you down. You're about to spill the beans when Natasha starts to talk again.
"So I don't remember my fiancée," Natasha says to herself. "Well that's pretty shitty."
"You can always make some new memories with her Nat. Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise, you can fall in love with her all over again," Wanda says, trying to cheer Natasha up.
"Yeah maybe it can be a blessing," Natasha says. she grabs your hand, holding it, while looking in your eyes. It makes you smile, but she doesn't make you feel giddy like she used to when you'd interact with her. Instead all you feel is guilt and love, but not for her, but for her sister you realize.
You try to keep a brave face on the whole time, trying not to break down and spill the truth, but you're too far in now and you know it.
As time passes by the rest of the Romanoff family filters into the room. It's nice being surrounded by all of them, it brings you a sense of comfort, even if it is all based on lies.
"So what are you going to do about the engagement?" Yelena asks out of nowhere. "What?" she asks after noticing the stares she's getting. "I know we were all thinking it."
"I don't know," Natasha says. "Maybe we can start over?" she suggests.
"I'd like that Nat."
"Hi, I'm Natasha," she says, holding out her hand.
"I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too," you say shaking her extended hand.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," the doctor says, slipping into the room. "But Natasha, you can go home tonight. All for your tests cam back clear, except for the amnesia, but that should go away on it's own."
"Oh my god this is great news honey," Melina says. Everyone starts to celebrate and the excitement starts to wear off on you too.
"Wait where am I going to stay?" Natasha asks.
"You've got an apartment sweetie," Alexei says. "But if you don't want to be alone one of us can stay with you."
"Can y/n stay with me?" Natasha asks shyly, it's the complete opposite of the way you hear her talk in the subway.
"I can stay if you want."
"I do," she says.
"Ok that's settled then," Melina says.
After another hour Natasha is checked out and packed up and the two of you and Wanda who you need to drop off, are sitting in her stingray, you driving.
"Do you really not remember the last year Nat?" Wanda asks.
"No, I don't think so. I remember proposing to Maria, being rejected and then nothing. But clearly something happened from now to then and pretty quickly because I've got y/n and a pretty ring on my finger." You don't say anything, feeling too guilty.
Soon you're pulling into the parking garage of Natasha's building, letting Wanda out so she can walk to her car.
"Bye Nat, by y/n," she says.
"Bye Wanda," you say softly. You're sad to be watching her leave. You wish you were going with her, but you're here with Natasha.
You help Natasha into her house, making sure she's comfortable in bed, before you go to leave, but Natasha drags you back down.
"Don't go, please," she begs.
"Okay," you say, giving in easily. You climb into bed beside her, allowing her to cuddle into your side.
"Goodnight Nat."
"Goodnight y/n."
Over the course of the next few days, you spend all of your time with either Natasha or her family. The two of you spend your days getting closer and closer.
You try to ignore the nagging in the back of your head, your feelings for Wanda, the way your heart feels with the Romanoff family, but it gets harder everyday. You don't want to lose the Romanoff family and their love.
"I'm going to the store," you tell Natasha, just needing to get away and be with your own thoughts.
"Okay, hurry back baby." She leaves a soft kiss on your lips before you walk out the door. The affection brings your guilt rearing back up, urging you to tell the truth.
The trip to the store does wonders for you, and by the time you get back to Natasha's apartment, you decide that you're going to tell her the truth. Except when you get there, there's Natasha, sitting at her dining room table. A white cloth covers the table and rose petals lead from the door to your chair.
Natasha stands up and walks over to you, grabbing your hands and leading you to the table.
"Y/n, I know I barely remember you," she says as she sinks down to one knee. She pulls out a ring box, making you gasp. "But I know that I love you. I know that you mean everything to me and I don't want to lose you. Will you marry me?"
"Yes," you say, completely forgetting about your plans on telling the truth. You get caught up in the excitement.
"I want to marry you as soon as possible," Natasha says as she slips the ring on your finger.
"Okay whatever you want," you say, too happy to truly acknowledge her words right now, to truly soak in what she's saying.
"How about tomorrow? The courthouse?"
"That sounds perfect," you say, but on the inside you can think of a million reasons on why you should put a stop to this, but you don't because of your own guilty conscious.
That night Natasha makes all of the arrangements. She calls her family and some caterers for a small reception at her parents house. Pretty soon everything is in place, the only thing that's left is for the two of you to walk down the aisle tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes quickly and everything is a blur. Before you know it you're in the courtroom bathroom, Wanda putting the final touches on your makeup.
"Can you give me a reason not to marry her Wanda, anything at all?" you beg, breaking the heavy silence that had been between you two. Wanda looks away from you, saying nothing, bringing tears to your eyes. "Okay," you say before you brush past her. Your long, white dress, that you borrowed from Natasha's closet, scrapes against her side but you ignore it. You walk out of the room, ignoring Wanda and ignoring your now broken heart.
You quickly dry your eyes and meet Natasha outside the bathroom, the two of you walking hand in hand to the courtroom.
Her family, including Wanda, gather around the two of you. A few of Natasha's friends, who you had met throughout the past few weeks, are also there, you notice. There's about 15 people crowding around you. This is never how you thought this day would go, but you can't complain.
"Do you Natasha Romanoff take y/n y/l/n to be your wife?" the judge asks.
Before Natasha can answer the door to the room bursts open and an angry looking woman storms inside.
"Stop the wedding," she screams out.
"What?" you can hear people around you scream in confusion.
"What is this?" Natasha asks.
"This is me stopping your wedding. You're engaged to me Nat, remember me," the woman pleads.
"I remember. You came back to me, you said yes," you hear Natasha say after moments of silence. It looks like seeing Maria brought her memories back.
Suddenly the room erupts into chaos and you use it as your chance to escape, too ashamed to admit the truth to the Romanoff family.
The next couple of days you spend in solitude, ignoring anyone who knocks on your door. You hide out in your apartment, surviving off of delivery food, until you finally have to go back to work.
The walk to work is miserable. You have nothing to look forward to and to top everything off you've practically ruined your own life with your lies, but it's what you deserve. At least you think so.
You enter the subway station and slip into your booth, shrugging on your bright blue vest. You spend the day on autopilot, taking tokens and giving tickets, barely acknowledging the people you're helping.
A woman steps up to your booth and she drops her token into the token slot, but when you go to grab it, you realize it's not a token at all. It's an engagement ring. You look up and you see Wanda and her family, minus Natasha, the people you thought you would never see again. They're all smiling at you, looking at you with so much hope in their eyes. Wanda walks around to the entrance to your booth and you let her in. She drops down to one knee before she begins to speak.
"Y/n, over the past couple of weeks, I have gotten to know you, we have gotten to know you," Wanda says, gesturing to her family outside the booth. "And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I can't live without you. The past couple of days without you have been torture and I don't want to be without you anymore. I love you and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. Will you marry me?"
Outside the booth you hear Melina and Alexei arguing about whether or not you'll say yes, while Yelena is chanting "say yes" over and over again. They bring a smile to your face. You don't want to live without them, and you certainly don't want to live without Wanda.
"Yes I'll marry you," you say, giddiness lacing your voice. Wanda stands up and kisses you, her hands cupping your face and it's the most perfect kiss you've ever had. It's full of passion and love. It's everything you ever thought it would be.
"I love you Wanda."
"I love you too y/n."
200 notes · View notes
goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months
Text
we're in love - m. murdock
Tumblr media
a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."
Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.
Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.
You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.
It’s how you paid for college.
And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.
Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.
For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.
And then The Doctor found you.
No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.
He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.
You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.
Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.
About a month in, you started growing antlers.
At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.
On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.
At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.
But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.
How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?
Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.
Until The Doctor became cruel.
He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.
One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.
An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.
You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.
The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.
And that was that.
You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.
Which, of course, is where you met Matt.
With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.
And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.
Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.
He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.
One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor.  You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.
He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.
When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.
You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—
‘My Best Test Subject,
I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.
-The Doctor’
You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.
This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.
• • •
After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.
But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.
It all happens too fast—
In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.
He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.
He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.
“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.
Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.
• • •
When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.
You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.
You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.
But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.
Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.
“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”
Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.
“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”
“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”
“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”
“You’re going to kidnap more people.”
“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”
“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”
He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.
“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”
You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.
Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.
The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.
“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.
“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.
The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.
“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”
• • •
Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.
For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.
Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.
Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.
And Foggy has the most important job of all.
Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.
It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.
“What? What is it?”
“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”
The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.
“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.
“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”
“Where?” Matt asks.
“Red, just—”
“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.
“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.
“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.
• • •
Daredevil is my enemy.
Matt Murdock hates me.
I hate him.
We were never really in love with each other.
These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.
Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.
Maybe.
You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.
The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.
But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.
It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.
Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.
Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.
“I found you, I’ve got you…”
You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.
Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.
“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?
Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.
“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”
“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.
“Why was she—”
“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.
• • •
If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.
Today is no different.
You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.
You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.
The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.
“How do you know my name?” You ask.
She frowns.
“It—Because we’re good friends.”
“I don’t know you.”
“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”
“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”
Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.
There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.
He speaks next.
“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”
“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.
“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.
“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.
“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.
Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.
And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.
Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.
“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.
It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.
“I don’t know you.” You tell him.
Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.
“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”
“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.
“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”
You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.
Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.
“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?
“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.
“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.
“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”
Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.
“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.
It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.
“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.
You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..
Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.
Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.
“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”
He hesitates.
“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”
• • •
Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.
You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.
“You kept them?”
“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.
“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”
He shrugs gently.
“In sickness and in health, right?”
“And in torture and memory alteration.”
“Same thing.”
For the first time in six months, you smile.
Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.
You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.
• • •
Memories are a tricky thing.
You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.
One night, he brings home Thai Food.
“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.
“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.
“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.
“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.
But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.
“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”
“Why did you want to marry me?”
He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.
“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.
“Oh..”
“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”
You smile softly.
“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”
“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”
“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.
Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..
Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.
“Yeah..”
“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.
“Can you stay with me?” You ask.
“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.
Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.
But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.
“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”
“Real.” He confirms.
“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”
“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”
You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.
“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”
“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.
You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.
• • •
The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.
Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.
It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:
‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’
Five minutes later, you get a response.
‘Real. Yours is sprite.’
You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.
Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.
“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.
“Do you like pesto?”
“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.
“So you do?”
“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”
“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”
“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”
There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.
“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.
“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.
“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.
“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”
And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.
“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.
You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.
As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’
The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.
So you call Frank.
This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.
“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.
“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.
It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.
“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”
“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.
“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.
“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”
Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.
“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”
Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.
“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.
But he’ll never get that chance.
He hopes Matt does.
• • •
It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.
“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"
“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.
“You like them?”
“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”
He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.
“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”
Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.
Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.
“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.
“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”
You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.
The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.
“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.
The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.
“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.
“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”
“I know.” You tell him.
A comfortable silence fills the air again.
“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.
“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.
You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.
“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.
You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.
“Real.”
206 notes · View notes
minervadashwood · 4 months
Text
The Truth
Bucky x F!Reader (plus size/curvy/heavyset) Tropes: Fantasy AU, friends to lovers, confessions CW: sex, burn injury Word count: 2.1K Summary:
Playboy Bucky Barnes keeps insisting that he loves you. But he is not a one-woman kind of man. Or so you think. Fantasy setting in which Bucky and you are part of a small group of adventurers. You're not a front line fighter but a savvy alchemist. Maker of potions, poultices, and traps. One day, some of your traps are compromised, and you get hurt. Bucky is not pleased.
Notes: Inspired by a dream I had and this gifset. There are a couple of Russian words in there, but they are translated in the story.
Tumblr media
You were bent over your alchemy table when your bedroom door slammed open. In walked Bucky Barnes, dressed in only a towel tied at his waist.
You flushed, taking in his sculpted body, the dips and planes of his torso. Heat overwhelmed you, and it had nothing to do with the burns along your right arm. 
“What the hell were you thinking?!” he demanded, stalking forward and taking your chin in his hand.
“The grenades were compromised!” You shouted back, twisting away from his grip. “ My grenades, Bucky! I sent you out there with something that could’ve killed Steve, Tony, Wanda.  Maybe even you.”
Bucky stared you down, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.
Suddenly, with inhuman speed, he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and yanking you against him. His skin was damp, like he’d just come from bathing. Steve must have told him what happened. That you broke formation to detonate your traps before they could hurt your team. Thankfully the only casualty was you. Your burns had been treated, wrapped in cloth, and were healing nicely.
“ Lisitsa ,” Bucky warned. “You can’t scare me like that.”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname. Vixen? Really? That might apply to all those women he bedded at taverns. Not you. Leave you to your potions, poultices, and fiery concoctions. Ved'ma would be more accurate. Witch .
You tried to twist out of his hold, but Bucky only gripped you tighter.
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” he growled.
“No, Buck, I don’t. You bed every woman who looks your way.  There’s a different girl on your arm at every festival, every tavern crawl. How could I think that I’m any different? Shall I let you bed me and be done with it? So you can move on to your next conquest?”
You struggled in his arms, trying in vain to get away. Bucky easily controlled you, spinning you around, dragging you to your bed, and shoving you down on it.
You laid sideways, your butt at the edge, as you tried to scoot away from him. Bucky grabbed your legs, squeezing the generous, soft flesh of your thighs.
“There is no ‘next’ conquest, Lisitsa. Only you.” His towel fell away as Bucky made himself at home between your legs. With his strong hands and even stronger arms, he drew your legs apart, forcing your sarong open, revealing your lower half to him.
You froze in place, skin ablaze as his grip lessened and his hands trailed up your outer thighs, your hips, your sides. As he moved, he leaned over you, nestling his own hips to your pelvis, his taut stomach resting on your soft one, with his erection between you.
“If you won’t believe my words, then I will show you. Leave no doubt in your mind that I love you.”
“B-Bucky?” You whimpered, wetness gathering between your legs. He was a specimen of a warrior. Strong, agile, lethal. Of course you wanted him. He set your heart on fire, practically made your blood boil in your veins .   But you couldn’t give in to him. If you did, he’d be gone before the morning, taking with him his sexy, enigmatic smiles, his heart-pattering winks, his insincere confessions of devotion.
Bucky grabbed your wrists and took them in one hand to hold them above your head. With his other hand, he swept away the rest of your clothing. Leaving you completely exposed.
“Stop it, Bucky,” you whispered, catching his eyes and holding his gaze. “You don’t love me. You can’t .”
A devastating smile graced his lips. “Why not, Lisitsa? How can I not love all of this? All of you?”
“B-b-because…” you faltered as he traced his nose along your cheek as, his deep inhalation audible; he was just so close. You, too, took a deep breath, steeling yourself to answer. “I’m nothing like them. The women you bed. I am more; I am too much. ”
Bucky growled, deep in his chest. The hand holding your wrists tightened, and again he took your chin in hand, gripping it tightly .
“My love, you are everything .”
You gasped as Bucky lowered his head and kissed you. Now, there was no denying your body’s reaction to him. You moaned and writhed, wishing your hands were free so you could bury them in his hair. Wriggling, you sought purchase on the bed, but Bucky’s hips and torso held you in place. The sheer strength of him captivated you, entranced you. You could only wrap your legs around his waist and welcome him closer to your core.
Long minutes passed as Bucky explored your mouth and you his. The man was voracious, but so were you, gasping and kissing, a paired clash of teeth, lips, and tongues: both of you desperate for more.
With a moan, Bucky eventually pulled away.  “My Lisitsa,” he murmured, and rested his forehead on yours. Your eyes met again, and there he was, exposed, and soft…adoring. Was that the truth you saw in his eyes? Or another maneuver in his game? You’d seen him woo women, time and time again. Were you now just the next item on his ever-growing list?
“Don’t pull away, love,” he whispered, those soft, searching eyes pleaded. 
“Do you mean it, Buck?”
“With every word, Lisitsa. ”
He held still, his breath arcing across your face, evidence of his desire growing more and more rigid as it was trapped between your bodies.
There would be no way to know for sure, not until morning. But you had him now . Why not take what you could, trapped in his arms?
You lifted your head slightly, seeking his mouth, and then Bucky devoured you. His tongue danced with yours. Gods how he tasted, how he felt . How he was the only thing in the world now, aside from you.
Every inhibition forgotten, you kissed him back, fiercely, and he finally let go of your wrists. Instantly your hands were in his damp, shaggy hair, clutching him close to you as months, years of repressed longing were brought to the surface.
As you kissed, Bucky’s hand skirted down your body until it cupped your sex. His fingers traced along your wet folds, forcing you to whimper into his mouth as he kissed you. 
Bucky broke your lips apart, gasping in your face, his own cheeks and ears darkened, flushed.
“So soft and wet,” he told you, a single finger slipping between your folds and slowly stroking you. “Shall I stop now, love? Or do you believe me?”
“Please, Bucky,” you begged, angling your hips closer to his teasing hand.
He had the nerve, the absolute nerve to laugh at you, and back was that signature, indecipherable smirk. He kissed your nose, your chin, your jaw, and then his mouth was on your nipple, suckling and biting to send shockwaves of desire through you. You jolted beneath him, and then his teasing finger lingered at your entrance.
“Shh, doll, it’s all okay. You're mine now. Aren’t you?”
You nodded dumbly. “Yours, Buck.”
Bucky finally pushed his finger into you, and you sighed. The first finger was joined by a second, and Bucky hooked them both, moving languidly in and out until you were mewling, and whimpering, and begging, all in the same breath.
“That’s it, love,” he encouraged. “You look so beautiful right now, it hurts. I can’t wait. Not anymore.”
“Then don’t.” You tugged on his hair, insisting that he continue.
He removed his fingers, using them to coat his erection with your wetness. Then, he perched himself at your entrance, sliding in just a bit before he lowered himself on the bed, holding his weight on his elbows as his hands cupped your face.
“Believe me now?” he asked, thrusting into you.
You clenched around him, the sweet sensation of being filled by the man you’d denied for so long. It felt like he belonged there, inside of you, filling you, stretching you, loving you.
He moved quickly, and you matched your movements to his own, raising your hips and chasing after his thrusts.
Sweat soaked his body, and you grabbed every part of him you could reach as he made love to you. You gripped his arms and then caressed his chest. You sank your fingernails into his back as you neared your peak, as Bucky groaned and panted above you.
You were on the edge now, faster than you’d ever been before, all because of the man in your arms. “I’m going to come, Buck,” you rasped, voice strained because of all the pleasure coursing through you.
“Go ahead, love,” he told you, nibbling your ear. “I’ll be gentle next time. Take my time with you.”
Next time .
You came, the promise of his statement letting you rise and fall while surrounded by Bucky Barnes.
His thrusts grew sloppy, urgent, and Bucky groaned, capturing your lips with his own, as his movements slowed and he spilled himself inside you, coating your walls with his warm seed.
Your bodies remained joined, you gazing up at him, and Bucky, eyes wide, staring down at you. Then, Bucky gathered you up in his arms, lifting and arranging you easily on your bed so that you rested on top of him. Both your bodies were sweat-slicked and shivering from the aftershocks.
“Did you mean it?“ he asked you, holding your chin once again. “Are you mine?”
Apprehension, suppressed while Bucky had his way with you, rose again.
He must have seen it because Bucky softened his grip and ran his thumb on your cheek.  “I’ll go Lisitsa, if you didn’t mean it. I’ll go and never speak of this again.”
You shook your head furiously, unable to bear the thought. “I meant it, Buck.”
“So do I, Love,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead, and held you close until you both fell asleep.
*
You woke some time later, your injured arm burning and crying out for another poultice and a clean cloth. As you attempted to sit up, you realized you were cocooned in a pair of arms, with a blanket draped over you.
“Mmmph,” Bucky grumbled sleepily. “What is it Lisitsa ?”
Your heart clenched. “You’re still here?”
“‘Course I am,” he answered, voice still groggy with sleep. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You never stay the night with them. With…the others.”
He sat up, pulling you with him, and the blankets pooled at your waists. Outside it was still dark, the stars glittering the night sky.
Bucky pulled you into his lap. “There are no others.” Threading his fingers through your hair, Bucky forced you to look at him. “There is only you. I promise.”
In the darkness, you could not see his eyes or his smile. You only had his words and the feel of his touch to guide you.
“My bandage needs changing,” you murmured, trying to slip off his lap to get your feet on the floor.
“What here,” he ordered, setting you on the mattress as he got off the bed. 
“Buck, what are you--”
You heard the lighting of a match, then the soft glow of a candle filled your room. Bucky held it, and the tiny flame bounced off his body, casting shadows over his muscled form. He’d come into this room wearing only a towel, and he was barefoot and naked, making his way to your shelves of concoctions.
“Which bottle, Lisitsa ?”
“The green one, middle shelf.”
Bucky grabbed your healing poultice and a clean, rolled cloth, too, before returning to you. Unwrapping the cloth on your arm, Bucky tsk’d and sighed.
“No going where I can’t protect you. My heart can’t take it,” he said, focused on your injury. After setting the used cloth aside, Bucky scooped some of the poultice out of the jar and touched it to your arm.
You winced, not used to someone else taking care of you.
“Shush, love,” Bucky soothed. “It’ll feel better in a moment.”
Love . There it was again. He’d had what he wanted and still, he was here, tending to you, comforting you, loving you.
“There’s my good girl,” he encouraged, gently patting the poultice on your burns. He finished and put the lid back on the jar. You’d never seen him do such a thing. Not for Wanda, certainly not for Tony, not even for Steve. But he was doing it for you.
As he reached for the clean cloth bandage, you grabbed his elbow with your left hand and said, “I believe you, Buck.”
He gazed at you in the candlelight, it danced across his features the face of the man you’d loved for so long. And now you were finally ready to admit it.
“About time, Lisitsa . Now let me finish this so I can get back into bed with you.”
You let out a long-held breath as Bucky finished wrapping your injured arm. Bucky snuffed out the candle and found you in the darkness, crawling back into bed with and pulling you back into his arms. 
Outside, the sky turned gray with the rising sun. It was morning.
351 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 4 months
Text
Inexperience Makes You Shine
Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, kissing, virginity loss, condom use, gentle sex, clit stimulation, taking it slow
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Commission for an Anon! I talk a lot of smack for someone with literally 0 experience but trust me, if I wanted to I could have so much of it.
Tumblr media
1. “We’ll take it slow.”
Your lips met Bucky's while you straddled his thighs, his hands rubbing up your thighs slowly to make you as comfortable as possible with what would happen next. He pulled you close, licking over your lips and humming as you tried to mimic the movements of his tongue to cover up your inexperience.
"Are you sure about doing this tonight? You know I'm fine with waiting until you're ready." That's not what the bulge you were grinding against said. You felt guilty more then once for leaving him hard and confined in his pants. He never said anything about it, he was always happy to go to sleep and cuddle, nothing else.
"I'm ready. I want you Bucky. I want to have sex with you." You whispered against his lips. You never said it so blatantly before, not even to yourself in private. Why wasn't he saying anything back? The silence made you squirm in his lap, brushing against his cock even more.
The two of you have been dating for over a year now but neither of you took is as far as having sex yet. There have been too many make out sessions and dry humping sessions to count, countless sexting messages, pictures meant to make each other horny, but no sex yet. It never went farther then that, no matter how many times it ended with your hand down your underwear and coming with his name on your lips.
Bucky always made sure you know that he didn't mind you being a virgin, that he will be happy to take things at your pace, "We'll take it slow." He'd always tell you and kiss you to reassure you.
His hands inched closer to your pussy, his fingers brushing over the edges of your panties. Bucky smiled at you when you shivered under his touch before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours again. You rolled your hips when the heat between them demanded friction.
"I'm gonna take these off you now okay?" He rasped against your lips, his prickly stubble tickling you as he kissed your cheek in reassurance, "If you want to stop, you know you can tell me anytime right?"
You nodded but moments later took your shirt off, confirming your choice to him. Bucky's eyes scanned over your body with hunger, adding to how flustered you were.
Given that his hands were occupied with taking off your underwear he lavished your breasts with his lips instead. He wanted to make sure you knew how beautiful you were to him, no matter what your level of experience.
"I'm so lucky." Bucky whispered before he flipped your over on your back, hovering over your body, "It'll be easier to take these off." He obviously didn't want to stop kissing you while he did it, he didn't want you to move away too far from his hands and lips. You bite back a whimper as his tongue passes across your nipple on his way down, "I want to make you feel good tonight." He murmured as he ventured lower and lower down your body, pausing only for the occasional kiss.
"Yes. Kiss me everywhere." Your body arched into his, hands pulling at his hair, pushing him down, your hips bucking against his body.
Bucky laughed against your flushed skin, "That is my mission, yes."
You groaned as he paused to observe your reaction to his teasing.
"Bucky." You whined, "I want you to..." He kissed your thigh, the cold fingers of his hand pressing against your heated core, "I need you to take me, be my first, my only."
"Your first and only. It will be my honor." It wasn't a guarantee that what you had would last forever but you can't imagine yourself with anyone but him. Bucky eased your panties down your legs, not looking at you yet, busy with taking his shirt, pants and boxers off first. He wanted to see you at the same time as you saw him. "Fingers?" He asked as he held his hard cock in one hand and smoothed across your stomach with the other.
"No, just, just fuck me, please Bucky." You couldn't wait anymore and didn't care how whiney your demands sounded.
Bucky walked to his nightstand and grabbed a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube. The condom was ripped out of it package and rolled onto his hard cock while he walked back to you. He tossed the rest at the foot of the bed and poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "I know you're wet but... just in case." With two fingers he pushed the warm substance inside of you, "Already so tight."
You looked down to see him lining up with your entrance after taking his fingers out. This felt so different than the toys you used, yes the width was about the same but the pulsing, the grunts, the way he looked at you while he bottomed out made it all so much more enjoyable. It didn't hurt, not too badly but Bucky still gave you time to adjust to him. You threw your head back when he began moving slowly in and out, "Fuck." Bucky leaned down to kiss you once again, his hands rubbing up and down on your hips until you started to match his thrusting motion.
"You feeling okay babygirl?" He asked. You responded with a quick nod and a kiss, then threw your arms over his shoulders and raised bent your legs against his hips. "I'm gonna make you feel even better." Bucky sounded just a tiny bit smug as his metal hand traveled between your legs and found your clit. An even louder moan left your lips, back arching into him, air catching in your chest as he fucked you slow and deep.
With the feeling of his throbbing cock fucking you, his lips everywhere on your neck and shoulders and his cold finger rubbing your clit you knew you wouldn't last long. He probably could but...
"It's okay. Come for me." He whispered into your ear, his pace increasing, his grip tightening.
"Bucky. I'm so close." You moaned against his shoulder, "Please."
"Together then." It occurred to him that you might be self-conscious about coming too soon, "I feel good too. You're making me feel so good, your cunt feels so tight, so warm, I want to feel it come around my dick."
He kept murmuring into your ear until your body tensed with your orgasm, pussy clamping down on his cock. You cursed him silently or wearing the condom but you understood why. Still even as you clawed at his back and felt it tense you wished you could feel that gooey, white cum in your pussy.
Bucky kissed your neck while your bodies relaxed against each other, "I love you pretty girl. Good girl." He cooed against your cheek before moving back to your lips.
"I love you too Bucky." You whispered against his lips as your eyes grew heavy. A sigh left your lips when you felt him pull out, "Bucky." You whined from the lack of warmth but it was back quickly along with Bucky's lips on yours. Bucky let you get comfortable next to him, your head on his chest, your legs tangled together as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
838 notes · View notes
Text
wasn't midnight rain | n. romanoff
about me | natasha romanoff masterlist
pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
series summary: your professor hated you. you hated her. but what was once such a simple relationship full of hate and anger, became much much complicated when it became full of love, and pining, and what ifs. especially when you fell in love with her while dating her son.
warnings: smut (minors, please do not interact); dom!natasha and sub!reader; mommy kink | choking | very very light (and barely perceptible) voyeurism | very very light bdsm (tying, slapping) | degradation | praise | semi-public sex. curse words, fighting, severe parental issues, cheating, jealousy, possessiveness.
Tumblr media
trope: angst, pining, enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, forbidden love
inspired by taylor's midnight rain (midnights) & the way i loved you (fearless)
date started: november twenty-eight
Tumblr media
• chapter one: she is midnight rain
• chapter two: she doesn't think of me
• chapter three: midnights like this
• chapter four: he is sunshine
• chapter five: all of me changed like midnight
• chapter six: slow motion, love potion
• chapter seven: full of cages
• chapter eight: picture perfect, shiny family
• chapter nine: it was paradise
• chapter ten: all the love we unravel
• chapter eleven: (didn't choose the) midnight rain
• chapter twelve: it came like a postcard
• chapter thirteen: she stayed the same
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months
Text
Knight in Shining Motorcycle: Part Two
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.7k
Warnings: feeling rejected and heartbroken, going on yet another bad date, belittling wait staff (by the date), fluff at the end
Summary: It's been a month since the incident with Jackson. It's been a month since you felt Bucky's arms around you. It's been a month and he hasn't said one word about it, and seems like he's gone back to his usual ways. It's time for you to move but why can't you?
read part one here: Knight in Shining Motorcycle
Squares Filled: seeking comfort in best friend (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
Tumblr media
x
It’s been a month since you and Bucky shared a bed. It’s been a month since he saved you from that disastrous date with Jackson. It’s been a month since you felt his arms around you, and you haven’t felt them since. It’s like after that night, Bucky went back to his normal ways of fucking a new girl every week. He refuses to think about that night, talk about that night, and acknowledge that it even happened.
Sometimes, he’d bring two girls back to the apartment for a very long night of you wanting to kill yourself from the noises you’d hear. You don’t get it. You thought you two had something. Were you just a means to an end? Another girl to get into his bed even though you never did anything other than sleep? Another notch in his belt?
The only person you can find comfort in is your best friend and Bucky’s sister, Mia. She’s the only one who will hear you complain about him because everyone does it. All of her friends who have gotten involved with Bucky have complained to her about how he didn’t treat them right or they caught feelings but he tossed them aside like they meant nothing.
However, this time it’s different. It’s the way you talk about Bucky or the way she sees him with other girls that makes her think there is something more to this than meets the eye.
“He hasn’t said anything to you?” you ask and fiddle with your cappuccino.
“No, sorry, hun.”
“I should move out. I don’t know where I’d go.”
“I wish I could say you can stay with me. Ty and I just converted the spare bedroom into our home office.”
“I know. I appreciate the offer. I have a little money saved but I have to tough it out until I get enough to afford something small.”
“Ty’s sister is a real estate agent. I can give her your number and she can try and help you out.”
“Yeah, maybe. I’m still trying to figure things out.”
“Hey, can Ty and I borrow your car this weekend? Ours is in the shop and we planned a romantic weekend up north.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off the night before.”
“Thanks!”
You take a sip from your coffee and hear a motorcycle in the distance. You’d recognize that bike anywhere. Bucky pulls up near the cafe where you and Mia are and parks on the side of the road. He has a girl on the back of his bike that he no doubt met that day. Right in front of him is some fancy clothing store she wanted to go to. She gets off the bike, removes her helmet, and leaves him on the bike to go inside the store alone.
Bucky looks in your general direction but with his helmet on, it’s hard to determine exactly what he is looking at. Still, that doesn’t stop the glare you’re giving him.
“Just ignore him,” Mia says and pops a doughnut hole into her mouth.
“Easier said than done,” you mutter and look away from him. “That next morning, he acted like nothing happened. I figured he didn’t want to talk about it. Then a couple of days passed and he still didn’t mention it. Weeks went by and now I know he’s doing this to me on purpose. He’s being an ass.”
Bucky gets off his bike and takes off his helmet to get some fresh air, and he leans against the side of it effortlessly. If you were to do that, you’d surely knock the bike over. He waits for his fuck buddy to come out of the store, and she bounces over to him with a bag in hand. She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in for a kiss.
It’s the kind of kiss that is meant for the bedroom but also the kind of kiss you want to show off to someone. You can’t be here anymore.
“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
You get up and toss some bills onto the table for your drink and leave in the opposite direction of Bucky and his new toy.
Bucky pulls away from the girl and looks over to where you and Mia are. When he doesn’t see you, he looks around for you only to see your retreating figure. He feels like shit for doing that. He absentmindedly rubs the knuckles that hold small scars from when he beat Jackson up for what he did to you.
You take the entire day to walk around town and be by yourself, so when you get home it’s already dark. Bucky is in the kitchen cooking something when you put your keys in the bowl by the front door. You round the corner and see him cooking something with only a towel wrapped around his waist as if he just got out of the shower. However, there isn’t any water on his body.
“Grab it while it’s hot,” he says.
“Really? You’re cooking in a towel? You couldn’t have gotten dressed first?”
He opens his mouth to reply but someone speaks from his bedroom that interrupts him.
“Bucky, where are you? I’m getting lonely.”
Bucky doesn’t feel guilty that he has a girl over. He feels guilty that you caught him. He sees the heartbroken look in your eyes that makes him want to shoot himself.
“Thanks for the offer but I’m not hungry. I’m sleeping over at Mia’s tonight.”
He lets you walk away.
The weekend comes quicker than you’d like. Without a car, you’re stuck in the apartment, and you’re not about to ask Bucky for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re stuck in your room on your phone when you get a message from Mia.
Hey, I know you didn’t ask for this but I hooked you up with someone Ty knows. He’s super nice!
like a blind date?
Yeah. I can tell him you’re not interested. I figured this is your chance to get over my brother.
yeah, i can try. where is the date?
At the new bar that just opened next to the cafe. His name is Travis. I told him 7 tonight.
okay. thank you. i’ll let you know how it goes.
Seven is three hours away, so you better get ready now. After taking a shower, you look in your closet for something to wear and come across the dress you wore for your date with Jackson. You haven’t worn it since because of the memories attached to it. Not memories of Jackson, memories of Bucky. Next to that dress is Bucky’s leather jacket he told you to keep. Like the dress, you haven’t worn it since and you’re sure as hell not going to wear it now.
There is a floral print dress that goes down to your ankles. It’s off the shoulders with long sleeves down to your wrists that bunches so the sleeves look flowy instead of compressed. The entire dress is flowy and light, perfect for a blind date. The match, you have chunky white wedges that give you a few extra inches. You keep your makeup light, hair down in soft waves, and jewelry that compliments the dress.
You leave your room and look at Bucky’s closed door. He’s been spending a lot of time in his room this past week with girls he picks up from anywhere. The only reason you’re telling him where you’re going is because you live with him. If you don’t, he’ll send an army to go look for you. There are noises and giggling coming from inside the room but when you knock, they cease.
One minute later, the door opens a crack and Bucky stands there with messy hair and sweats on.
“I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”
Bucky takes a moment to look at the outfit you’ve chosen and his demeanour changes immediately.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“I’ll Uber. Have fun with your girlfriend.”
You leave before he has a chance to say anything else. It takes the Uber ten minutes to get to you and another thirty minutes to get to the restaurant. Mia sent you a picture of what the man looks like but it was grainy and unclear. You step out with your phone in hand while looking around for Travis.
“Y/N?”
You turn to see an attractive man wearing a nice suit. You look at the picture once more to confirm it’s Travis, which it is.
“You must be Travis,” you chuckle nervously.
“Yeah. Wow, Mia sent me your picture but nothing compares to real life. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you blush.
“I made us a reservation. Shall we go inside?”
“After you.”
You two walk inside, get your table, order, and start chatting about your lives. Travis is a bit boring when it comes to having adventures. Unlike you. You can write a book about the adventures you’ve been on because you have Bucky as a roommate. When he’s not fucking some random girl, he’s actually pretty cool to hang out with. You two have been everywhere in town doing all sorts of things.
“So, what do you do for work?” Travis asks and sips his drink.
“Uh, I am an IT specialist who works from home. I get calls daily on how to fix computers and other tech-related stuff. It pays well and I get to stay home, so that’s a bonus.”
“That’s awesome. I’m terrible when it comes to computers.”
“What do you do?”
“I am a financial manager. Like you, it pays well but I’m stuck in meetings and in the office all the time.”
“Have you always wanted to work in the financial world?”
The waitress comes by with your food and sets the plates in front of you and Travis. You think she’s going to walk away and you can continue your conversation with Travis, but that’s not what happens.
“Am I supposed to be impressed with this?” he asks angrily.
“Excuse me?” the waitress stutters.
“I don’t even have to touch this to know it’s cold. Do I have to go back there and tell you how to do your damn job?” 
Your mouth opens in embarrassment and shock.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take this back right now and have it fixed.”
The waitress grabs the plate without looking at you and leaves immediately. Poor thing looks like she is going to cry. Travis shakes his head and turns back to you as if this never happened.
“So, anyway, I went to business school and all that, but it’s nice to get out of the office every once in a while, you know?”
You have no idea what to say. Mistreating waitstaff is an immediate turn off. Everything attractive about this man suddenly turns sour. You’re lucky you saw this early on instead of at the end of the date.
“I’m sorry, I have to use the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, sure.”
You take everything you own with you because you’re not coming back to this table. You make it seem like you’re going to the bathroom in case he’s watching but once your table is out of sight, you find the first waitress you see which so happens to be yours.
“Hey, I am so sorry about the way he spoke to you like that. I don’t even know him. My best friend set me up. Listen, I gotta get out of here but the table we’re at is by the door. Is there a back entrance I can use?”
“Yeah, I got you. He gave me the ick as soon as I saw him,” she shutters. “Follow me.” She takes you through the kitchen and the back door that they use when they go on breaks. “Good luck.”
“Oh, and don’t be afraid to spit in his food.”
“Trust me, the cook’s all over it.”
You walk through the small alley next to the bar to the main street. You take out your phone to call an Uber, but luck has it so that you don’t have any service. You try moving the phone around, even walking down to the street light, but nothing comes up.
“Damn it,” you mutter.
You can’t call Mia. You can’t use your car because she has it. The only person you know is Bucky. Should you call him? He’s probably frolicking with that woman still. Even if you were to call him, he’d probably hate you for ruining his date. The only other option is to walk home even though it took thirty minutes to get here by car.
The road stretches through the mountain briefly which you don’t want to walk through but what else are you gonna do? If you can’t get service in a busy restaurant area, there is no way you’re gonna get service in the mountains. The walk gives you time to think about your life. You have a good job that pays well but you can’t keep living with Bucky if it means seeing him with all these women. You have a major thing for him and it kills you to know you’re not the one he’s going home with.
Ten minutes go by until you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. It races past you without a second thought, screeches to a stop, turns around, and slowly creeps up behind you. You don’t have to see who it is to know who it is. Bucky pulls up next to you and walks the bike to keep up with your pace.
“Get on the bike.”
“No, I’ll walk. Thanks.”
“Don’t be difficult, Y/N. Get on the bike.”
“How the hell did you even find me?”
“I asked Mia. She told me the guy you were on a date with. I looked him up, and he posted to his Facebook about how his date ditched him, and all women are beneath him. He’s a fucking loser. I mean, he still uses Facebook,” he chuckles. “I figured you were out here somewhere.”
“Stop stalking me,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll meet you at home.”
“Get on the damn bike.”
“No!” Bucky revs his engine and surges forward, parking right in front of you to prevent you from going further. You try to go around him but he moves his bike in your path. “Why the hell do you care about me? You’ve proven I mean nothing to you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks and gets off his bike.
“You fucking know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then you’re not worth my time.” You try pushing past him to continue your walk but he grabs your arm to prevent you from doing so. You quickly turn and slap his face. The shock is enough for him to let go of you. “Don’t fucking touch me. The last time you touched me, you left and never spoke of it again. Just go, please. You have a girl waiting for you at home. Just go to her.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?!”
“Because she’s not you!” he yells loudly.
“Do better,” you scoff.
“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself. “I love you!” You pause to take in the information. “I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I’ve been trying all month to get you out of my head. None of the girls I’ve brought home have ever stuck because they’re not you. Being with you that one night has been better than anything I’ve done all fucking month.”
“Then why did you let me walk away?” you ask in a heartbreaking tone.
“Because I’m an idiot. Because you’re the realest thing I’ve ever had, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
Silence befalls the two of you, and you look around the desolate road.
“So, what are you gonna do about it?”
More silence. Bucky takes three big steps to get to you, grabs your waist with one hand, slides his other into your hair, and kisses you like he was supposed to a month ago. His lips fit so perfectly against your own like they belong there. You’ve pictured this moment in so many different ways, but this is not on your list.
“Are we really doing this?” you ask when he pulls away.
“Do you want to?” You nod with a smile. “You’re my girl now.”
“No more other women.”
“I’ve got the one I want.”
He leans down and kisses you again, this time, making your head soar to new places.
Tumblr media
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
259 notes · View notes
intrepidacious · 1 year
Text
a million summers
Tumblr media
summary: Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3k
warnings: modern AU; childhood friends to lovers; alcohol consumption; making out; the rare occurence of me writing something that's almost exclusively fluff. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
prompt: @allcapsbingo O1: "You've changed."
a/n: i didn't plan on posting anything today but something came over me. happy valentine's day, everyone!! this one's for @jesterstrange – remember when you sent me two songs for my sleepover and i completely ignored one of them? this is why 💛
masterlist | read on ao3
Tumblr media
The air in the car is buzzing with late night heat and the crackling of the radio rapidly switching between stations, but you can’t seem to mind. Your heart is pounding in tune because less than two hours ago, you were kissing Bucky Barnes.
The Bucky Barnes, whose hand is currently gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Valedictorian, baseball legend, first boy you ever fell in love with, prodigal third of your trio, Bucky Barnes.
Shit, if Steve found out about this, you’re not sure if he would laugh or kill both of you.
You wonder if the same thing is currently going through Bucky’s mind, because when you steal a sideways glance at him, he’s biting the inside of his lip, like he always does when he’s wrapped in thought.
It’s funny, in a way. You’ve noticed these little things about him since you were eleven years old, innocently collecting tiny facts about James Buchanan Barnes in your mind like other children kept pebbles or leaves they found on a walk. Like how his hair would stick up and begin to curl in his neck when it was about to rain. Or how he always got the first splatter of freckles in May, after months and months of them hiding away from the cold.
They’re there now, dancing across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose, and when the sunrise hits them at the right angle, they point out all the places you want to kiss; underneath his eye and on the tip of his nose, and, most importantly, right at the corner of his mouth, where his smile starts.
Your heart still can’t believe he’d actually let you do just that.
(He would, he would. He has.)
Your phone vibrates again and you ignore it. Reality might be on the other end, and you’re not ready for that quite yet.
There’s a slight tick in Bucky’s jaw when you peek at him again, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him quite as well as you do, and it sets your cheeks on fire. You roll the window down to feel the wind in your hair. Maybe it’ll cool your face a little.
You haven’t talked to each other at all ever since you got in the car, Bucky concentrating on the road, you counting the cars you pass. There’s not a lot of them, not at this hour, so the activity doesn’t exactly help to calm your mind, but you don’t trust your voice enough to start a conversation quite yet.
(Still, he hasn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car, either.)
It’s strange, this silence between you, not uncomfortable but unusual, because even though you’ve filled countless hours just quietly doing your own thing next to one another, it’s never been with this tension that’s making the air between you thick enough to cut.
The radio finally settles on a station, and there’s a spark of recognition at the song that manifests in Bucky squeezing your hand a little more tightly, and you finally break the silence with a quiet laugh and a warning, "Don’t."
"I didn’t say anything," Bucky says with a smile in his voice.
"Your thoughts are very loud."
"My thoughts are none of your business." He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitches. "Besides, you were very cute."
"Slow down," you say, "I want to throw myself out of the car."
Bucky has the audacity to laugh. "Come on. Everyone had a phase in middle school."
"Everyone who knew me in middle school needs to die," you groan.
"Is that a threat, Y/L/N?"
You take in his cocky grin, tapping a finger against your chin in fake contemplation. "Maybe."
"Oh yeah?" he says, and you swear his smile grows even more crooked as you echo his words back at him.
(You want to trace it with your fingers and then taste it again.)
"So this is what we’ve come to," he says, his face exaggeratedly appalled as he shakes his head. "You’ve changed."
"I’m afraid there can’t be any exceptions," you say, squeezing his hand. "Especially not if this 'short drive over' takes much longer," you say, turning to the window again. The clouds look heavy with the reminder of rain.
Bucky rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, and the gentleness of the action makes you press your lips together to hide the giddyness threatening to spill over. "Almost there," he says, and continues driving.
A little faster than before, maybe.
***
You’d seen this look in Bucky’s eyes before, but it’d never been directed at you. Pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead, gaze unwavering and so intense you felt like you were being stripped naked in the middle of the crowd.
(And during his own homecoming party, no less.)
You forced your gaze away, trying to focus on whatever story Wanda was telling intently, but it was impossible to do anything other than nodding and humming and taking another sip of your drink whenever there was a breath for you to do so.
When you dared another glimpse in his direction, Bucky was still watching you, even though he was doing a much better job at pretending to listen, one of Steve’s arms still slung around his shoulders, his lips widening into a smile at the same time the rest of the group started to laugh while you were just out of sync with everyone else.
Not that you were staring at his lips.
It’d been so long since you’d last seen him in person. He was supposed to go off to college with Steve, but instead ended up going to an entirely different part of the country, and despite the fact that the three of you once shared every spare minute, there was only so many lagging phone calls at odd hours a friendship like the one you used to have with Bucky could take.
It broke your heart, of course, but maybe it was for the better. After all, your feelings for him had been drifting towards something different to friendship for a while at that point, something softer and more precious, something hidden away in stolen glances and late night journal entries.
Him literally being out of reach had made it easier, in a way, even though you’d never quite managed to move on from the color of his eyes.
(How could you have?)
Now, seeing him right in front of you again, they seemed so much brighter than they did in your memories; like someone had broken off two pieces of a clear summer sky and put them in the center of his face. It was honestly unfair.
You managed to steal away to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes, not bothering to turn the light on, splashing your face with cold water to try and get a grip on. You weren’t quite drunk, but tipsy enough to recognize the light haze in your eyes as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, angling yourself in the thin strip of moonlight falling in through the window, trying to see if there was anything different about you.
Anything that Bucky might have picked up on tonight, of all nights.
There was a knock at the door, so you quickly fixed your hair with a small sigh and mentally prepared to continue the night with a smile, determined to enjoy yourself, weird and totally not heart palpitation inducing looks from former best friends be damned.
As soon as you swung the door open, though, your confidence was immediately shattered when you almost barreled into someone standing right on the other side, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets, smile blinding.
Like he’d been waiting for you.
"Y/L/N."
(Your name still sounded like honey on his tongue.)
"Barnes." You raised your eyebrows when he didn’t move to let you pass. "Can I help you with something?"
"Maybe," he said, and then he pulled you back into the room with him, locking the door behind the two of you.
You leaned against it, arms crossed in front of your chest, swallowing heavily. Bucky hovered very close by for a moment before he retreated, pushing both hands through his hair and then hiding them in the pockets of his leather jacket.
"Right," you said, your head spinning slightly. "This isn’t ominous at all."
Bucky chuckled quietly, his eyes searching for something. "You look great," he finally said.
With a snort, you tilted your head and looked at his feet, not really believing his compliment. Your fingers were itching to unlock the door and just slip back into the party on the other side, but at the same time, you found you couldn’t move.
(You’d never been able to move away from him.)
"Look at that," you said, nudging your shoe against his. "You haven’t changed."
"Not really."
There was a strange edge to the smile in his voice, like he was trying to swallow something down. Maybe it was more clear on his face, but you couldn’t look up at him.
It was strange, the small details you remembered from years ago. Even when you and Bucky had begun to drift apart (because bottling up your feelings all the time could only ever have gone well for a short while), you would still spend most lunch breaks with him and Steve. How many times had you joined them on the tiny, dried up shrivel of lawn next to the library, being silly together and trying to stretch those thirty minutes into infinity, your sneakers always, always untied.
Steve had sprained his ankle in college when he tripped over his own feet, and so he’d started to tie them like the proper adult he pretended to be, and because the two of them had a habit of always copying the other, you’d just assumed that Bucky would have eventually grown out of the whole thing as well.
(Unlike you.)
Seemed like some things had stayed the same, after all.
And as if that stupid little observation had returned both of you back to the days that were, talking was suddenly so easy. You drifted closer to each other and apart again, like you were moving to a song much slower than the one still audible through the bathroom walls.
Later, you wouldn’t even be able to recall what you’d said. Some teasing remark, probably, a snarky comment like the ones you used to hide your feelings behind when you were fifteen and he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.
Whatever it was you’d said, Bucky chuckled again. As if he thought you funny. "I can’t believe I …" He trailed off, shaking his head, dragging a hand through his hair again.
Your eyes tracked the movement. A single curl kept sticking up near the top of his head, like it always had when you both were younger. "You what?" you said, almost entranced by it.
"Nothing," he said, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to come up to him. There was no one there, but he kept moving like he was struggling against some unseen force.
"You what?" you laughed, thoroughly intrigued now.
He shook his head, but it spilled out anyway, like some tidal wave he couldn’t keep contained. "I used to have a crush on you in high school, alright?"
A pause, a break, a screeching record halt.
"No, you didn’t."
(He didn’t.)
"Uhm, yeah I did." He sighed heavily. "Look, you were never supposed to find out."
Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your ears. "Why not?"
"Because you’re …. You were my best friend. That was more important." The past tense really shouldn’t have broken your heart the way it did, because you’d known. Of course you’d known.
"And what about now?" you said, your hands clutched tightly around yourself." We’re not best friends anymore, are we? So … what are we now?"
He stared at you very intently, and his voice broke a little when he said, "I’m not sure what you want me to be."
There was a pause, and you realized Bucky’s face had turned even redder. You could barely look away from his eyes, though. It was almost impossible to make out their color in the semi-darkness of the bathroom, but there was a softness to them that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.
"Are you drunk or something?" you asked, feeling very, very sober yourself.
"What?" he said, almost offended by your suggestion. "Of course not."
"Good."
You stared at him for a moment longer, and then you kissed him.
You’d imagined kissing Bucky Barnes so many times before, but the real thing was so much better than even your wildest dreams could have predicted. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and still didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands circled around his waist to press him ever closer to you, and he made a noise at the back of his throat that made your brain short-circuit.
His hands trailed across your shoulder blades, gently pulling you with him as he took a step backwards and his back hit the wall with a low thud, his mouth never once leaving yours. He tasted like coffee and salt and something that was so distinctly him it took your breath away.
When you finally came up gasping for air, Bucky whined in disapproval, peppering smaller kisses along your cheeks, your jawbone, your neck. You grabbed his shoulder for support as your knees threatened to buckle, the fingers of your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.
"Shit, Y/N," he mumbled against your pulse, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make your eyes flutter shut again. "You’ve got no idea how long …"
He didn’t finish talking, his lips finding yours again with a hum that made your grip on him tighten involuntarily, his hands large and solid around your middle. There was no telling how much time you lost to that kiss. Hours, maybe, an eternity of both of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.
At one point, Bucky tapped your thigh, as if he was trying to get you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, and you were about to, honestly, but just then you were interrupted by a sudden and incessant knock at the door.
"Whoever’s in there, can you hurry up? There’s a line out here!"
You broke apart with an embarrassed snort. "Just a minute!" you called, somehow managing not to sound quite as short-winded as you felt. You steadied yourself against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat drum a mad rhythm underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I do not wanna go out there," you mumbled.
"Neither do I," he said, and his voice sounded so low and so wrecked you had to kiss him again. Just a small peck on the lips, this time, but you still came up light-headed. "Wanna get out of here?"
(More than anything.)
"I can’t," you sighed apologetically. "Nat’s not even here yet and I told her I’d help with the cake."
"I don’t give a shit about the cake."
You giggled. "I promised, though"
Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. The person on the other side of the door started knocking again. "She has an hour," he mumbled and sealed it with a quick kiss before you could say anything else. "Tops."
You left that bathroom with your head held high and an incredulous smile on your face. Outside, a clash of thunder shook the window panes.
***
It crosses your mind, then, when the car slows and the gas gauge finally stops blinking, that your younger self would have killed to be in your shoes. Or rather, bare feet pulled up on the passenger seat, Bucky’s fingers entertwining with yours, feeling tired and wide awake at the same time as nervous excitement curls up in your chest.
How many summer night did you use to lie awake in bed, imagining a scenario just like this?
(A million, at least.)
The summer air carries the smell of the ocean, and if you looked out the windscreen, you could probably see the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun starts to rise, a picture perfect view like something out of a fucking dream. You’re still not quite convinced you haven’t fallen asleep on Wanda’s shoulder earlier in the evening, your subconscious making all of this up out of some long buried yearning from years ago.
You don’t want to look outside, though. You don’t want to look anywhere but at the boy beside you, whose hair is still tousled from your touch and who looks at you like he’s on cloud nine and absolutely terrified at the very same time.
"Do you feel kinda nervous or is it just me?" Bucky says, and you laugh.
"Yes. What’s up with that?"
It’s like the manic, pent up energy that made your kiss in the bathroom feel like you got struck by lightning has vanished from your bodies, making room for something more quiet. More anxious. A question whispered at the back of your mind that makes your hold on his hand tighten.
What now?
(Reality stopped calling a while ago, but it’s only a matter of time.)
"I guess it’s a good sign." Anticipation makes the blue of his eyes shimmer. "Means neither of us wants to fuck this up."
You smile tentatively. "Is there something we could potentially fuck up?"
Bucky swallows, tilting his head. "I hope there is."
(You want to run away with him. You want to stay with him. You’d wait a million summers more to get here.)
"Me too."
When he leans in this time, it’s sweeter than before, slower, less a declaration and more a promise. Neither of you would have to wait anymore.
Tumblr media
thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!
1K notes · View notes