#Beware of Pity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckysm · 4 months ago

Text

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★ part one, part two

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ word count 8.4k+ (this was going to be 5k but then i ended up writing about 2.5k worth of smut... so!! beware)

ᯓ★a/n: this is weeks late, life happens, shit happens we get back up to write bucky barnes faniction. {para @dove4444 te amo, perdon por la espera <33333} (minor grammar edits on mar 11)

ᯓ★ summary: Tensions rise when a ‘friendship’ builds that leave both of you wanting more. Everyone can see how his eyes never leave you. If only you could get your head out of your ass and see for yourself.

ᯓ★ series warnings/ tags/ tropes: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, separation, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut, Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn,��jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication Soft Bucky Barnes, Mentions of torture off screen ------[PART TWO WARNINGS: unhealthy coping strategies, miscommunication, smut, dry humping, cursing in other languages (Spanish and Russian), dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, p in v unprotected sex]

You needed time to heal after— two days of bed rest, stitches, and recovery from a heavily sprained ankle. And unfortunately for Bucky, that meant no clandestine meetings at quarter past two in the morning.

He tried his best to keep away. After the initial reunion, he handed you into the infirmary and avoided everyone like the plague. They avoided him right back; he couldn’t blame them. He felt as if a storm cloud enveloped him without you, knew he had murder in his eyes. It cost him to hand you up to the doctors, a pang in his heart at having you taken from him once again. He told himself it wasn’t like that, and you would be back in his line of sight before he knew it. His subconscious disagreed, so he trained for hours until he passed out on a mat, warring voices in his head quieting down with exhaustion that pulled at his body and made gravity stronger. Phantom hands yanking him down into oblivion mid-workout. He toed the line of danger training without a spotter, but once the black started to spot his vision and his dry throat burned with rage —he was a super soldier, neglecting hydration helped him pass out faster— he knew to go to the mat so when he did pass out, at least he wouldn’t injure himself.

One of those days, he came to the Black Widow frowning from above him.

He grumbled an intentionally incoherent sentence, not feeling like interacting. The redhead’s brows furrowed further. Unimpressed with his antics.

“Get a grip, Barnes, this self-pity schtick has to go. Here.”

He felt more than saw the weight of a water bottle against his stomach. Almost snarled before remembering himself. It was a bit embarrassing. He sat up and grabbed at the water with resentment in what was meant to be one fluid movement but came out clumsy and sluggish. His head pounded, his vision clouded. Embarrassing. Begrudgingly, he unscrewed the water bottle and finished it in slow, measured drinks under Black Widow’s judging gaze.

Said redhead dropped to a crouch, eye level with him, frown unfurling, and even he could see the concern in her eyes and the unpleased twist of her lips.

“Barnes, look. I long ago forgave you for the scar you gave me, and I know that you hold yourself guilty for— don’t give me that look. You know you do. Anyway, the others wanted to stage an intervention— No, before you start, let me finish! They care about you. —No. I know that face. I’m going to ignore all your passive-aggressive expressions now, you petulant child— I know you don’t like to think much about what happened during— well, yes, I know you remember. Haven’t you ever stopped to think why the fifty-sixth floor stayed destroyed? Huh? Yeah! Thought you didn’t. I know you pay close attention to Tony, so I know you know he is prideful and a perfectionist. He wouldn’t leave a floor wrecked just because. And before you get angry. No, he didn’t tell anyone why he let it be. And I know for a fact that he turned off the cameras. I couldn’t find any trace of the feed for the floor, and I am Black Widow — it didn’t take me long to figure out he had forgiven you no matter how much he teases you. Yes, he was hurt, but he ultimately understood that it wasn’t a choice, and he cares in his own asshole way. He— We care about you, Barnes. And I know things have been awkward with Steve— since you tried to kill him and all--, but if you don’t see that he cherishes you, then you have been lying to yourself. And she cares, too! Did you know she has been accepting visitors? She’s about to be discharged to her own room tomorrow morning. She didn’t need to stay in the infirmary, but Tony worries, and I know you do too. So there is no reason to stay away from your friend— no rational reason. And it pains me to see hope bloom in her eyes once the door opens and how she tries to cover up its shatter when it’s not you. You two understand each other. You are best friends. Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. We live together. She wears her heart on her sleeve. You just have to learn to read her tells. She will never outright say what she means to say. She will veil her true feelings with insults and sarcasm. Now take a shower and go to her, you big fucking idiot. You reek.” She sprang up in one smooth motion, leaving him with a fond stern look and scolded, all of which reminded him of his sister.

That was the longest she had ever spoken in front of him, even putting every interaction together. He didn’t have time to unpack everything, though. Bucky was left reeling, jaw clenched to prevent it from slacking open in shock. His breaths came in faster and faster. He missed you so much. He couldn’t stop thinking about having you in his arms, wanting you back there forever. But Black Widow was right. He reeked.

His thoughts ran a mile a second, his body going through the motions without instruction. He went to his bathroom, showered, and did his night routine on autopilot.

It was late… you were most definitely sleeping. His every thought is hyper-focused on you. On the fact that you weren’t there, your absence was a heavy and loud presence in his heart.

Bucky stared at his bed, bones weary and freshly showered. He would lie to himself if he said he contemplated sleeping there and visiting you tomorrow. He needed you now— needed you always— But his need for you felt more pronounced at that moment. His body was tired, but it yearned to hold you more than it did sleep. He needed his nightly dose of you. And even then, that wouldn’t be enough; he needed you close, needed you in ways that had him blushing and running himself a cold shower. He shook his head, trying to lose memories of him jerking himself off at breakneck speed, to find some sort of release of the lustful torture he found himself in just by thinking about you— never mind breathing in your scent.

He threw himself on his bed. He tried to keep away, but truly, he did. But between the lands of consciousness and unconsciousness, he saw you. Screaming for him, crying out as you were tortured. He couldn’t take it. His heart pounded as he ran his fingers aggressively through his hair.

He knew you deserved all that was good in the world, and that excluded him — but that didn’t calm down the tension in his body palpable through his teeth. Bucky tried to breathe in and think rationally, but his limbs moved on their own accord as if deciding for him.

His mind was a passenger to his body as he was pulled by an invisible string holding his heart hostage, tethered to you, throughout the building to your door.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You couldn’t sleep, or rather, you had been knocked out for a while, sleeping on and off, drifting between the blurred line of realistic nightmare and nonsensical reality, dozed in a wide array of medicine, and found yourself squirming at two a.m. in the morning.

You were unable to move much. Your leg was elevated to aid your heavy sprain.

Your eyes were heavy, blinking slowly in the darkness. You were so uncomfortable and had to sit with one big fact. Squirmed with it. You wanted to see him. You distracted yourself from any other thoughts, from processing whatever the fuck happened in the warehouse, the new drops in the bucket of blood and death, with memories of his arms around yours. You had relished in life-giving away beneath your hands, just as they had relished in breaking your bones. You glared at your palms as if they would give you an answer to why you didn’t feel guilty. You had to kill your way out. No one was coming to save you. He would’ve. You could see it in his eyes. He was about to fight Captain America to get to you. You shivered, not knowing how to take it. He had been so relieved, and so had you.

Your inhale was shaky. You tried to think of him, but— your greatest fears had come true those long hours before you escaped. Half unconscious with pain, you thought you were back in Hydra. When you screamed in pain from the torture, you thought those nights with him had all been a nice dream. That the beautiful man with the sad blue eyes had been a hallucination. The cruel eyes from not too long ago blurred into those of your past, of older memories from Hydra. A variety of eyes, twin flames, mirrored each other with sadistic pleasure and glee. There was a twist in your gut that didn’t let you give up and told you there was a man with soulful eyes and a gorgeous smile waiting for you. Pure grit brought you back online, moving your body in ways you hadn’t since your Hydra days. Killed so many. You were scared that you didn’t care. Bucky was real, had hugged you so tight—

But an anxious, paranoid part of you still thought so. You hadn’t seen him in days, and the rational part of you knew he was real, but a dark and needy side of you needed him here to believe it. A heavy sensation of being trapped grew in your body; your limbs, heavy and achy, impeded you from moving much. Frustration built in your chest, rising and rising. Your breaths came out fast and shallow. You didn’t know how to manage it, needed to move, needed him.

A knock at the door dragged you from your haze. Hope failed to bloom in your chest. Too often, it had grown only for someone who wasn’t Jamie to enter the hospital room.

You couldn’t see through your distress. It was late, and you didn’t want to be bothered— not by anyone who wasn’t him. You slid a hand under your pillow, fingers curling around the grip of your knife.

You knew those soft footsteps, familiar with them even in their uncertainty— you were dreaming. “Doll?” Oh, how you missed him.

You placed the knife on the bedside. “Jamie?” You weren’t able to keep the excitement and relief from your voice.

“I had a nightmare. I had to check for myself. I’ll let you sleep.” His voice was gruff, worried. Worried.

Yes, you were, in fact, dreaming a pain medication-induced nice dream. Your Jamie was proud. He would never— this was your dream where you could do whatever you wanted, and you wanted him around you. “Come here. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

Dream Jamie didn’t hesitate. The bed shifted with his weight. You flinched when you felt cold metal against you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I can move—”

You giggled softly. The dark haze dissipates from your mind by his presence. “It’s alright, Jamie. You’re so cold. Get under the covers with me.” You yawned. Now that you weren’t in distress, your subconscious pulled you towards sleep—deeper sleep since you were already in the sandman’s territory.

There was an awkward shuffle as he got inside the covers.

You curled around the cold metal arm as best as you could with restricted movement. You yawned again. “G’night, Jamie. Try to get some sleep. We’re safe here; nothing can hurt us in my dream. I’m so glad to have you in my arms. I missed you so much. So happy you’re real and here, even if it is a dream, Jamie.” Your words murmured. You rubbed your face into his cotton shirt. The pounding of his heart lulled you to sleep.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You thought you were dreaming! Did you dream of him often? It didn’t matter. He would ponder this new revelation later; now, he would focus on your soft, pliant body against him and tiredness overtaking him.

Bucky’s consciousness came to him in phases, each more forceful than the last, crashing into him in waves. The first sensation he became aware of was warmth. His body relaxed against it. It was familiar, as he had dreamt of it. The next thing he noticed was that the warmth was tangible, had a soft give to it— he could feel it. He rolled his neck against foreign pillows… His eyes flew open, muscles tensing slightly with alarm.

Your soft sleeping body cocooned his left side. It enveloped his usually cold metal arm— which was at that moment the same temperature as your body. He so badly wanted to give in again. Burrow into your warm, soft skin. He barely had time to overthink it. His groggy mind almost reached consciousness before a soft murmur from your lips brought his thoughts to heel.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, s’early Jamie, sleep.” You didn’t seem to care about him not being a product of REM. You curled up tighter around him. Your smile bigger than last night, cheek pressed against his metal arm. And never had he felt any semblance of gratefulness toward Stark. But the new arm sent feedback to his brain. A weapon of destruction cradled and enveloped softly by your body. Somehow, you trusted him. He felt less like a weapon with no agency and more like a person. He liked touching you with his metal arm. He knew that it was tainted, but your touch made it pure. Bucky acknowledged that he would’ve never gotten you here with him without that still-wrecked floor. Unwanted tears prickled in his eyes. Would he ever live up to this forgiveness?

He didn’t want to think anymore, so he followed the laced command in your sweet, sleepy voice, urging him back to dreamland and succumbing to his dreams.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The air around the two of you shifted after the one-person intervention. And yes, of course, the team noticed, but they chose to say nothing. They were glad that Natasha had gone in to talk to him by herself. Although she never did retell what happened, it seemed to work. And while they liked to tease Bucky— some billionaire philanthropists more than others— they were happy for him; he seemed a little calmer than before. Settled into himself.

While he never directly came out and touched you in front of them. He started orbiting you blatantly. Taking a seat next to you during the rare shared meals. Glaring at anyone who dared take his spot next to you on the couch. Walking into a room and making his way to you.

Two particular instances engraved themselves into the team members' minds who were lucky enough to behold it.

The first event took place in the morning. It started like any other. You chit-chatted with Steve and Nat as you made two breakfast bagels. They might’ve thought you had woken up hungry that day were it not for the two cups of coffee you set in front of the plate holding the two halved bagels.

Tony tinkered with a toaster in the background, his eyes looking up slowly when Bucky walked in, fingers not stopping their ministrations on the machinery.

And the team had been so wrong. Yes, Bucky had a strong disposition, but the way he always stared at you so intently was. It should have been obvious. It was like their eyes opened after the mission had gone wrong. The man was so obviously besotted with you.

It couldn’t be clearer as the usual dark storm cloud over him dissolved when his eyes found you. He strode toward you with one track mind.

You spoke to him before your gaze found his as if sensing his presence. “Hey there, I just made you my favorite breakfast. Grab our plate. Here’s your coffee. Dark and joyless like you.” You turned to look at him with barely veiled glee.

Steve’s brows furrowed slightly, concerned. He used to make those kinds of jokes with his Bucky, but he didn’t know how this Bucky would react.

Tony’s eyes furrowed with concern—

Bucky huffed and pursed his lips. But his eyes. They were accustomed to his eyes being perpetually set in a glare.

His gaze was soft, voice softer, “Doll… You know me so well.”

Your grin was dazzling, and you were the only one who missed the way his stare lingered a bit too long on your lips.

DOLL??? Oh, you guys were clearly fucking. Natasha smiled, amused, and raised an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve gaped at Bucky, lost and forlorn. He had spent so long tiptoeing around the man who used to be his best friend.

Bucky didn’t seem to care that there were other people in the kitchen; the man who didn’t show up for breakfast was long gone. You curled your fingers around the handle of the two coffee cups, concluding the chit-chat. He grabbed the plate with his metal fingers. Then, so slyly as if with half a mind, he reached out his right arm toward you, near your hips. His fingers slid inside the loop of your jeans and yanked you toward him.

You let out a surprised yelp and laughed. “Jamie! Careful. The coffee will spill!” You didn’t seem the least put off by his actions.

They had no clue when it started, but somehow, in a few months, you had gotten through the broken and hurting Winter Soldier and got to Jamie.

Jamie. Bucky never let Steve call him that. It was bittersweet. Your chattering voice faded as he dragged you out of the kitchen. It was then that he came to a conclusion. Bucky was a different man, and he wanted to get to know this version of him.

And they felt guilty. They had given a half-ass try to get to him, put off by his glower. You weren’t perturbed by his grumpiness or his mood swings. Letting him be silent whenever he got too in his head. Chatting to him about whatever until you eventually drew out a small smile perceptible in his usually clouded expression.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You had found yourself in the proud position of Bucky’s friend, closest and best — you did sleep in the same bed—yet you still felt like screaming in frustration. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t unhappy per se. You had him in your arms every night…Your cheek pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. The only thing between keeping your skin from his was a thin, flimsy shirt. And maybe it was wrong for you to, but you longed for more, to touch without restraint. Had feelings with more-than-friends connotations. Not that you had many real friends before you were recruited here. So, while you knew there was a difference between platonic and romantic love. You tried fooling yourself into thinking it was platonic. But you wouldn’t go and kill around 15 people for just about anyone, and it hurt. You wanted him to see you the same way you did him. Rare nights were you holding him instead of the more common inverse.

You’d scrape your fingernails softly through his scalp. Hope would make your heart full, inflating it with every hum of pleasure he let out in his sleep. But then he’d wake up shy and closed off, cheeks red with what you perceived as embarrassment and your heart would collapse once again, hope seeping out and leaving acid in its wake.

But he’d do certain things that would make your heart race, exhilarated and frustrated, leaving you reeling and confused.

Your feelings grew despite your protests, so you kept them locked in nice and tight, hidden even from yourself, for as long as possible.

You were full to the brim with tension, and one particular instance made you lose it, the container breaking with pressure and spilling all over the place.

It went like so. It was early afternoon, and sunlight spilled from the high windows of the tower, casting a warm glow on the room.

Natasha was telling you about these two guys; they invited her and you to a double date. You were certain in your decision not to go. The man you’d be paired up with was the same one who frequented the bar with the team; he had brown eyes and a sleazy smile. Nothing like your Jamie.

You were doubling down on your decision when he walked in.

“Hello, Doll, Nat.” His greeting was gruff, but a few months ago, you would’ve thought him possessed.

Natasha’s eyes glinted with mischief and calculation. She gave you a feral grin before turning around, her expression slipping easily into neutrality. “Bucky, it’s so good that you’re here. You can help me convince her to go out with me.”

Jamie cocked his head, expression unreadable. “Sounds fun, Doll; you need a girl’s night.”

This was it! The perfect opportunity to gauge his reaction to you going out with someone else! “It’s a double date with the guys from communication.” You deliberately omitted the part where you didn’t want to go, wanting to push a grand reaction. —It never came.

You saw his full body tense for a moment, and for a second, your heart soared… only to crash instantly when he gave you a terse smile. His voice was disappointingly steady, “Why don’t you want to go?”

You knew your body was overreacting, knew you were blowing it out of proportion, but your heart shriveled nonetheless. You tried still, but you couldn’t swallow down the frustration. Try as you did. “I like my men a little bit older…” Your mouth answered for you, giving him a cheeky grin.

He turned his full attention toward you, and your body viscerally recoiled from the look in his eyes. An angry and resentful glint in his eyes. So familiar—how he used to stare at you before the first meeting at two a.m.

“You should go.” His words were final, a command.

You didn’t understand, and you almost sobbed then. You prided yourself in being able to count the number of times you had cried on one hand. A chasm was growing between you, distance expanding with every word. He didn’t want you that way. Pinche ilusa! How could he ever want you that way? You snarled instead of crying, “Alright, I will, but don’t expect me here at two in the morning.”

His smile was bitter and mean. “I won’t.”

Your returning smile was filled with spite. Anger bubbling in your throat, you saw red. “Pinche pendejo, deveras.” (Such a fucking prick) It hurt to smile. You didn’t even want to think about the last time you used your Spanish. But his hardened eyes and clenched jaw brought out your most impulsive sides.

Beside you, Nat and Bucky tensed. You lifted your downward gaze toward them. Their heads were cocked to the side, assessing… You’d never slipped into your native tongue.

You took a deep breath before speaking, “I’m going to get ready, Nat! See you at eight!” Smiled at them both before prancing to the elevator, assuming a mask of joy, heart sunken in.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The elevator doors closed in front of you, taking you from him. The Winter Soldier’s gaze lingered on the spot where you’d disappeared, his eyes burning with a mix of longing and frustration before snapping toward his adversary.

The soldier was full of rage. Flowers had bloomed through the cracks in his stone heart only to wilt because of her.

The redheaded sensed the obvious danger and spoke in a language the soldier didn’t understand. He understood her disappointment with him, which displeased the soldier.

“говорить демон.” The soldier growled, beckoning the demon to speak, try to save herself.

She had been a friend…The redheaded demon responded in his language. “You were taking too long, and I couldn’t take any more of her sulking… So speak up or forever hold your peace, soldier. You don’t get to wallow in self-pity and watch life passing you by, cursing time for moving on and not standing still. You can’t unwind the clock, soldier. You can only go forward… So decide carefully before it’s too late.”

Bucky couldn’t breathe, bereft of oxygen. What had he done? Had the soldier really come back because of you? The threat of losing you?

He somehow found himself in his room. He didn’t quite remember how he got there. His brain was a haze of frustration and defeat.

His room felt wrong, empty, and cold. He didn’t even approach his bed, knowing how that whole schtick would go. So Bucky paced and paced, his mind running around in circles.

And what was that whole thing about liking older men? How was he supposed to take it?

He knew he had fucked up. But he wasn’t about to go crash your date… So he went to his training room. Came back to the land of the living hours later, an unknown familiar face framed by gold hair staring down at him. Warmth pressed against his mouth, and he drank greedily.

“… can’t keep hurting yourself like this, Buck.”

Bucky groaned in response and in acknowledgment. Looked at his friend’s concerned eyes. His chest ached with nostalgia, love, regret… everything. “That’s my line, punk.” His voice came out unsteady.

The ground moved underneath him, yanked by his metal arm toward Steve into a tight hug. Bucky’s arms hovered uncertainly for a moment, and he could feel Steve’s large body shake against him. So he hugged his friend back. He had been neglecting Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, Stevie, it’s alright.” His voice was fond. He was yanked once again. Twin grips on his shoulders shook him with more force than merited.

“No, you stupid idiot! It’s not alright…” Steve looked like he wanted to say more for a moment, but he knew how Bucky was, so he kept in his spiel and sighed dramatically. “Come on, get some food in your poor body.”

Steve tried to help Bucky walk, which ended up with Captain America being whacked upside down. The blonde turned to Bucky with a fake offense, instead deciding to drag him to the kitchen by force. Oh, how things changed…

Steve had changed…he managed to beat Bucky in a stare-down. Even in his forties after the serum, that only happened once in a blue moon. So Bucky found himself eating a sandwich and a big glass of electrolytes with resentment. His leg bounced with vigor.

He kept his eyes on his plate, avoiding Steve’s too-observant eyes, eyes that had known him since childhood.

As soon as the last bite had been swallowed, Bucky looked up. Only to regret it instantly. Steve had a resolved expression. A glint in his eyes that told him to run. So he did. He was not ready for whatever conversation he wanted to have.

“Where’s Banner?” He pushed off the table in a harsh, sudden movement.

Steve’s face fell, confused and hurt. “Huh?”

“I need a cigarette.”

He got furrowed brows and a cocked head in response.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

A few blocks away, your leg bounced anxiously. Unbeknownst to you, mirroring the person who caused your stress.

You sat across from Nat, your date an uncomfortable breath away. The tension between you was palpable as you struggled to make small talk with him. Thigh pressed to bouncing thigh. You wanted to turn pleading eyes to Nat. And for what? You had come here out of your own volition. Fuck. You needed a smoke. You tried to convince yourself you wanted to be here. If he didn’t want you, you deserved someone who did.

A meaty hand slid against your bare skin. Ala mierda… Yeah, no… Abort.

“Calm down, baby… you are all… amped up… how about we go outside and—”

“That’s a good idea.”

You got a sleazy grin and a flash of eerily perfect teeth. His were charmingly imperfect; he wouldn’t call you baby. He would call you doll….

“I am going outside by myself. I need a smoke. Besides— I left my lighter at home.”

“I-”

“No, thank you. Sorry, Nat.” You flashed your not-so-sorry gaze toward her.

She was amused. “Go! by all means. I’ll get the check.” She moved her hand, shooing you off.

A grip on your arm stopped you. “Don’t tell me it’s because of that creepy guy with murder in his eyes.”

You shivered, giddy with pleasure. It was too obvious of a response for it to fly over your date’s head.

“It is! He stares at you like you hurt him. Like he wants to tie you up in his bed and never let you leave!”

Your wicked grin was enough for him to let you go with a huff of disgust. You didn’t care, kissing Nat’s cheek. “Goodbye, you evil woman.”

She spanked your ass, sending you off. You turned one last time toward her, grinning. Your smiles reflect glee and mirth.

You walked around the city for a while. Savoring being able to do so without recrimination.

You weren’t delusional; you should’ve known better. Yet you were so blinded by self-doubt that you closed your eyes.

Bucky wasn’t loud with his emotions, ever. He swallowed them whole, drowned in them. He was too prideful and scared of being hurt, even if he wanted you. Countless sleepless nights and nights where it was avoided deliberately to see each other told of a man who was interested in you in some capacity.

You weren’t dumb. You just chose to ignore the evidence. Turning a blind eye to the staggering difference in how he spoke to you versus anyone else. He gave you preferential treatment. You cuddled every night for fucks sake! And you doubted that he cared for you? He couldn’t sleep without you, and vice versa!

You checked your phone. 2:03 A.M. What were you stalling for?

You smiled all the way back to the tower.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The third time the elevator doors pinged, Bucky’s hope had worn out. Expecting Steve or Natasha. The latter had come from the double date alone. “I told you to leave me alone to— what had you called it?— wallow in self-pity and the consequences of my actions or whatever.” He raised a shaking hand, knuckles cracked and bleeding— he was embarrassed to admit he had succumbed to his baser needs and punched a wall out of frustration— taking a drag of a cigarette. It tasted radioactive… but it smelled like you. He coughed softly.

An achingly familiar laugh startled him from his stupor. He swerved around with wide eyes. A kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar… “What are you doing here? If you’re here to tell me about — I don’t want to hear it.” He grumbled. Yes, you were friends, but he really, really didn’t want to hear about you sleeping or even breathing in near another man. He took another drag of your cigarette. Filled his lungs with smoke, his blood with chemicals. Okay, yes. He got it now.

“You big, stupid man.” The candor of your voice dripped with irritation. You stomped toward him, heels clacking against the floor, and snatched the smoke from him in harsh movements.

He grunted in response, out of his depth, and turned his gaze toward the skyline. He was aware of your every movement. You took two drags and stomped a perfectly good half of a cigarette with your heel.

He turned to glare at you, giving you a once-over. Fucking helllll….. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bucky needed to dump cold water on himself ASAP. He was reminded of the many, many long showers he had jerked off in before joining you in bed. They were always futile, super soldier refractory period, and your soft skin, and— you were wearing a mini skirt and a top that accentuated your tits. Bucky mentally clutched his 100-year-old pearls. His breath hitched. Eyes catching on thighs— THIGHS. And boobs—BOOBS!Before meeting your pleased predatory gaze.

You took one step toward him. He took one step back.

“I’m going to ask you something. Please answer me honestly— Why don’t you want to hear about my date?”

“Why are you here and not with your date?” he ground out his non-answer.

“Why are your knuckles bleeding? Why are you smoking my cigarette?”

“Why are you here and not with your date?” He repeated, body tense, ready to pounce, touch, taste. You looked so beautiful. The soft night lights illuminate your tinted lips and glittery eyelids, bringing the color out of your iris.

“Well, I found myself seated next to him and thinking: Jamie wouldn’t say that— but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t you.”

When you advanced toward him this time, his feet stayed planted. You took your time advancing toward him. And you were taller now, easier to reach with those long heels. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed up against him.

His arousal grew to unavoidable levels. Pushing against your hip. “Fuck, doll. You can’t— I’m wrong for you, all messed up and angry. And from the forties…” His fingers clenched and unclenched on his sides. He was lacking in excuses to touch you. His limbs itched to hold you. Dig into you.

“Well, I hate to repeat myself, but I see I have to. I’ve told you I like my men a little bit older… And maybe I’m a bit messed up, too. Because seeing you all fucked up and angry…. Well, I wasn’t upset.”

“I can’t sleep without you. I dream of you, I—”

You smiled with glee, “I know; Natasha was all too pleased to explain to me the mechanics of ‘morning wood.’”

Bucky groaned in response. Letting his hands, metal and otherwise, slide against your hips. It was nothing like cuddling; his intentions were impure. They had always been, but he had not felt any past guilt over his arousal. Unashamed in his guilt, he felt no need to neglect his urges — unless you told him otherwise.

He could tell you had some snarky response in the makings. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky grin off your face. You were gravely mistaken if you thought he would be taking the subservient route. At least right now, he needed to be in control, and you needed to trust him. Needed you.

Your eyes glinted with snark, your mouth opening to tease. His hand coasted up your back to your nape, his fingers gliding into your hair to pull you toward him. Your eyes widened in surprise, pupils blown out. Good, you thought too much; he needed to make your brain shut up.

He held his breath as he leaned in, humming with satisfaction once your lips pressed against his. Your lips, so soft against his. He needed more. He gripped your hip, conscious of the strength in his metal arm. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, but he did want to leave a mark. You gasped in pleasure. Your hands yanked on his hair, and he groaned against your lips.

He set his sights on a wall three paces away, pushing against you. So malleable under him, succumbing so easily to his ministrations, like putty under his hands. His blood sang with the escalating volume of your noises. With each step he took forward, you met with a step back. You gasped as your back met the wall.

“Jamie... please,” your voice was so whiny, so desperate, it made his cock hurt with arousal. Blood rushed in his ears; he needed more, needed you begging. Undone.

He yanked on the base of your hair with one hand, exposing your neck for him. He was oh so happy to kiss and lick your skin. You whined and shifted against him... sensitive. His other hand slid down your skirt until it met your skin. Groaning against your neck, he slid his hand up, finally reaching your perfect ass. He couldn’t feel any underwear... Fuck... he might’ve been from the forties, but he had internet access, and he could call a spade a spade, or in this case, a thong a thong. He yanked on the flimsy thing so it snapped back against your skin.

You whimpered and panted, eyes closed in bliss. He could feel your hips shift as if chasing after stimulation. And who was he to deny you?

He placed both hands just below your ass, lifting you up and pulling them apart, a silent command you gladly followed with a whine and a curse word in Spanish.

You locked your legs around his waist; his erection pressed against your warmth, and his soft cotton pants were doing nothing to help his desperation. He gave up on holding himself back when your lips met his once again, your hips jerking against him.

It was the best thing he had ever felt since... ever. His fingers spread on either side of your ass, your back supported by the wall. He was beyond words, and so were you.

His cotton pants were soaked with your arousal, hiding nothing. He could feel everything: your pussy open for his cock to grind on, and your underwear had twisted to the side. He lost all ability to think, his conscious motor skills deciding to go offline, the only movement he could do was jerking his hips. His lips opened to pant like a dog. It was your turn to kiss him, sloppy and uncoordinated, as he ground against you.

He had half a mind to be aware of his strength, but each time he tested the waters, pressing harder against you, you moaned louder. So it wasn’t long before he realized you could take all of him.

His body trembled with built-up tension. It felt like nothing he had ever experienced. His hands flexed and tightened on your ass, pressing you harder against him, making the friction so much sweeter. He chased the pleasure with a one-track mind, couldn’t think of anything but your scent, skin, taste – for years, he had felt numb, and you brought him back to life. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to feel such exquisite pleasure; it was you who had his hips jerking, dry humping like teenagers. He didn’t care.

Your fingers clawed at his back, nails scratching his skin; you had long ago stopped kissing him, opting instead for panting against his neck.

Pleasure built and built, mind-numbing. You were saying something... begging for him... He threw his head back and groaned as his pleasure crested, stars exploding behind his eyes; he couldn’t see...

His hips jerked with aftershocks, breaths harsh against your neck; his pants were soiled with his come and your arousal. Your legs slackened, dropping to the floor. Most of your body weight rested on the wall, the rest supported by his hands. He had two functioning brain cells, both reminding him of his selfishness.

You didn’t look displeased with him; your skirt was bunched up at the hips, and your top in disarray. Your eye makeup was a mess, and he loved that. Your panties were slid to the far side, showing off your glistening cunt.

His knees hit the floor before he even realized what he was doing. He felt your thighs shake against his skin as he leaned in to look closer. Your clit was swollen and dark. He leaned in to kiss, to suck. Fingers pressed against his face, pushing him away.

“S’ too sensitive,” your voice wavered.

Bucky furrowed his brows, looking up inquisitively at you.

“Came. Twice,” you clarified, tone shaky with satisfaction. Your gaze followed his movements as he stood up to cradle your face, tilting your head to kiss you softly. He sucked on your teeth before stopping the kiss.

“Huh, didn’t notice. You felt too good. I went crazy. Too bad, though, I want to feel you come on my face and on my cock.”

You smiled, satisfied, a cat who finally got the cream. “Sure, later,” you muttered against him.

“Whenever you want, doll face,” he smiled down at you. You looked fucked all the way to next week, and he hadn’t even dicked you down yet. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

You hummed, wrapping your arms around him in a silent request; he obliged happily, carrying you bridal-style to his room.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie was so soft, so careful with you. Your head was hazy with the aftermath of pleasure. No orgasm in your past could hold a flame to the explosive bliss from the earlier encounter.

Your head was hazy as he led you to his bathroom, your mind too fucked out for processing his room. You complied with whichever way he tugged your limbs, sliding off your rumpled clothes until the only thing on your body were your high heels.

He knelt in front of you, his touch tender as if apologizing for moments ago when he ground on you without thought. His cool metal fingers skated up your calf, reaching up to support your knee as his other hand worked on the latch of your heels. He pressed a kiss to each ankle before standing up in front of you.

You blinked slowly, your eyes trained on him. He was still clothed. Why was he still clothed? Your gaze caught on the wet patch on his pants, outlining his half-hard dick. Praise super-soldier metabolism.

You planted your feet on the white marble floor, your arms stretching toward him, fingers curling into his shirt and yanking. “Off.”

He grinned softly – you would never, ever get enough of his smiles – before sliding his shirt off in one swift movement.

Your breath caught in your throat—fuck, he was beautiful.

“Beautiful Jamie,” you said, taking a step closer. You slid one hand up his chest, using the other to trace fingers along scar tissue. He was so… captivating, so utterly himself, that you felt like you were the only person in the world who got to see him like this. “Only for me, only I get to see you like this.” You turned to throw him a challenging glare.

“Doll, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I don’t share either. Call me old-fashioned –”

“If I see you with another woman, James, I swear to God, I will break my killing streak. And all three of us will end up in a –” Rage had barely simmered from the image before he had yanked on your hips to pull you into another kiss.

“Easy there, Doll, there’s no one else,” his voice was so satisfied, an assured tinge to his candor, in a way you knew it only got for you. You were so fucking stupid for not noticing.

“Good,” you yanked on his pants. “So... super-soldier dick... how long can you go? I bet we can get Jamie Junior tired.”

He laughed loudly, the sound enough for you to shiver with pleasure. “Doll, I don’t think you could keep up with me; you’d pass out. You don’t understand how long I can go if it’s with you.”

“Well, surely you can keep count if I’m passed out... set a record.”

His laugh was disbelieving. “I don’t want to fuck you when you’re unconscious; I want you awake and making those sweet, delicious sounds.”

“Another time, then – take off your pants.”

“As you wish.”

You tried, you really did, to focus on cleaning yourself once you’d gotten inside the shower. But you didn’t fight the urge to slide your fingers into his scalp and help him wash his hair. Forcing him into a crouch to aid your reach and resting his face on your shoulder.

His touch was gentle, a silent decision to wash each other. He went first. You pressed your fingers, massaging the soap against his skin, fingers traveling lower, your eyes fixed on his cock. He was beautiful. Your fingers reached his hips; he was fully hard at that point, leaking. You couldn’t stop yourself; you had planned on teasing him, but his cock was too pretty, red and wet with pre-come. Your soap-slicked hands circled his cock... and damn, the groan that fell from his lips was unlike anything – the groans before had been rough, taking. This one was desperate, needing.

You took him in both hands, dragging your thumb against his leaking tip. He threw his head back and groaned, fingers digging into the skating over your waist.

You dragged your touch up and down his length, your eyes studying his every movement: his clenched jaw and tightened face. He was holding his sounds back; that wouldn’t do. You tightened your grip and fastened your pace – only to have his tight grip on your wrist halt your movements. His gaze was heavy on yours. “The next time I’m coming, I’m doing it inside you.”

Tension filled the air as he had his turn and took his time cleaning you. He was so clinical it was driving you insane. But you could tell he was restraining himself. His movements rushed; he had an end goal in mind.

You dried off quickly, and showering would prove futile with what you had in mind. The night was young; it was barely 3 A.M.

The anticipation was thick in each deep breath you took. As soon as you had crossed the doorway to his bedroom, you couldn’t restrain yourself. You turned toward him, but he beat you to the first move, yanking on your arm and throwing you over his shoulder; you laughed as he spanked your ass.

Your body was airborne the next moment before your back bounced softly on his bed.

You leaned on your shoulders, breasts heaving with each breath, thighs open.

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted you, how long... I thought I was going to go crazy with how much I needed you,” he said, crawling on top of you. Kissing you once chastely, your breath hitching. You were out of your depth; this was a completely new situation, and you loved every second. His featherlight kisses peppered over your jaw, below your ear, along your neck – your body twisted and turned – over your collarbone, down... “You’re so beautiful, doll— I had to restrain myself. You deserve worship.” His gruff voice was all the warning you got before he latched on to a nipple and sucked, cool metal fingers rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers, awakening erogenous zones that made their debut with a bang.

“Ala puta, mierda..." This bliss was unlike anything. Your hips jerked, your cunt pounded with need. Warm fingers slid your pussy open, circling your clit. You could feel every nerve sing with pleasure. Your toes curled, the balls of your feet pressing down against the bed.

He slid one finger into your cunt, and your whole body jerked in response. “Ala madre – ala madreeee!" Your head lolled, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t form coherent thought; your brain decided to go offline.

Pleasure built and built, still sensitive from the past two orgasms. Just when you found yourself at the precipice, you were left bereft of pleasure, cut off from his touch. You looked at him with betrayal.

“No need for that, Dollface— you’ll come soon. I want it to be on my cock— give me a second I’m going to get a condo –”

“NO!” You wanted to feel him, and you wanted him inside you now.

“All right, Doll, and while I would love to put a baby inside you, I’m not sure I’m ready to share you yet –”

“I’m on birth control! I’m clean; I haven’t – in years.” Your voice was desperate. He smiled slowly at the neediness in your tone.

He shut you up with a kiss, fingers digging into the soft of your thighs, holding you open for him.

You felt yourself lose clarity, tears streaming down your face. You needed his cock inside you now.

You didn’t have to wait long; soon enough, he pressed his tip inside you. He was big... You babbled and pleaded for more to no avail. His fingers traced your skin, grounding you, as he slid in inch by delicious inch until he was fully sheathed. Your body writhed under him with pleasure. It was a tight fit, bordering on a little bit painful. The slight pinch only made the feelings more heightened as your cunt pulsed around him.

You tried to beg him to “move,” but none of the languages in your repertoire seemed to be available. So you were left a whining mess. He got the message. Felt his cock slide out of you only to slam into you so hard you saw stars. You could feel the exact moment he lost control and went feral and pussy-drunk. His thrusts were severe and hard, thrusting himself until your pelvises slammed together, the sound of your skin meeting his echoing through the room.

You were crying out, nails searching for pleasure on his back.

It didn’t take long for your pleasure to peak; it ebbed and rose in waves. You weren’t sure where your orgasm ended, and another one began. Had started to come down only to have him pinch your clit and –

It was so good; you took everything he gave you greedily, you had been fulfilled a while ago, and your needs were met ages ago. You were there for him to fuck however many times he wanted— drenched with your arousal and his come. His hips would stutter, and you’d feel a rush of his come, warm and drenching you. He’d slow down for a few moments, making you think it was over, hips sputtering softly inside you. He’d kiss your skin softly in apology and harden inside you again.

He made good on his promise. Once you were close to passing out, he stopped.

Your full body shook as he cleaned you with warm towels, your mind unresponsive as he moved your limbs softly to slide on one of his hoodies and boxer briefs.

You were halfway to dreamland when he wrapped his arms around you, the room reeking of sex.

“… doll... Mine... Love... Love you...” His voice was soft and barely processed as you fell asleep in his arms.

Did process enough for you to reply a sleepy, “Love you more.”

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments (they fuel me), and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading love ya hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻!!!!

1K notes · View notes

hyp3rfixation-h3ll · 2 years ago

Note

I went through That Person's blog and I want to beat the fuck out of them. I can't because i live in the US as well. What a piece of shit.

it is wildly out of character 4 me 2 say this, but yk, I appreciate the sentiment, Nonny, but please don't beat people up <3 you supporting me is very sweet tho, thank you (〃￣︶￣)人(￣︶￣〃)

however, if you see something, say something-- if there's anything of note there, you guys see you can submit it to me and i'll add it 2 the doc and keep your name anonymous, as i don't want others to get openly involved in a situation that should've never involved them to begin with, especially if they're my age or younger.

#you've got mail 📬#violence tw #nitrochains #dovahkiinnightshift #steer clear #beware #i havent been able to see what theyve been doin or sayin cuz they have me blocked and i have THEM blocked tbh #ive considered snooping myself but ultimately it might not be worth it tbh #nitro is a very wicked individual and will attempt to spin the story in their favor as much as possible in any way #especially manipulating their audience into pitying them #that's who i assume youre vaguing about anyhow #they are a very awful person and tbh i feel awful for all of their friends. theyre all being kept in the dark about how terrible they are #but know that you have every right to be angry at them. theyve done so much it's kinda impossible to put it all in one place </3 #im doin my best but its just me yk ?#<- notneg to clarify . just bein factual

1 note · View note

romanofftherealest · 16 days ago

Text

Winter Solstice

Summary: You reasoned that perhaps some time spent as a bear would be beneficial. Humans, after all, seemed so lacking in magic, so terrible—so disconnected from the world and the elements around them.

Pairings: Hunter Natasha Romanoff x Witch Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

BEWARE OF: small, grizzly, tickly, fluffy, clingy, whiny, snotty, hungry, stinky baby Tasha bear ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ

Author's Note: Scheduled repost

⧗

During the first snowfall of the season, witches must venture into the forest. This is a sacred tradition, a time for the witches to connect with nature and harness its powers. The trees stand tall, their branches coated in a pristine layer of snow, their tips adorned with shimmering icicles. The forest is silent, the snowfall and wind muffling the usual sounds of wildlife.

You continue your walk through the blizzard-filled forest, the snow falling in a flurry around you. The path is slippery underfoot, the icy terrain making each step precarious.

As you try to maintain your balance, your foot suddenly slips on an unseen sheet of ice, sending you to the ground with a jarring thump. In an instant, you reach out for support, your hand finding a nearby tree trunk. But in that moment, a rush of adrenaline-fueled magic surges out of your fingertips.

The sudden slip sent you sprawling onto the icy ground, knocking the air out of your lungs. As you struggled to recover, a shout echoed through the snowy forest, catching your attention. The sound seemed to come from nearby, and you strained your ears to pinpoint its direction.

As you walked towards where you heard the echoed scream, you saw nothing but some fabrics and some boots on the ground. Who would try to go out during a snowstorm? You asked yourself as you approached the clothes and boots lying on the snowy ground, curiosity piqued, you knelt down to take a closer look. But as your hand is mere inches away from the fabric, something beneath it moves. Your breath hitches and you freeze, watching as a small bear emerges from underneath the discarded attire. Its black eyes regard you with cautious curiosity, its body tense but unthreatening.

You observed the bear with a growing sense of dread, you noticed something peculiar…

For the love of Mephisto, it was your sign, perfectly etched onto its arm.

"Fuck…"

It was a mark, a subtle reminder of the magic you had inadvertently released. This bear, this poor creature, was the result of your magic gone awry because of the stupid slip.

Your first instinct was to run and you did, without hesitation, you sprinted away from the bear, leaving it behind in the midst of the raging snowstorm—you ran away from the consequences of your actions. The sound of your own footsteps and labored breathing filled your ears, drowning out any sense of conscience or remorse.

However, the bear was determined and persistent so it followed you, whining and growling in its attempts to catch up. At first, you had no mercy, slamming the door shut in its face. But as the cold of the night settled in, so did your guilt. You had only planned to allow the bear to warm itself by your fire for the night. You promised yourself that come morning, you would find it a new place to stay.

But the bear quickly made itself comfortable, indulging in your supply of honey and curiously pawing through your spellbooks. It even went so far as to find its way into your bed, seeking to cuddle close. Your initial annoyance nearly compelled you to turn it into a mealworm, but then you found yourself gazing into its pitiful face.

"Just for tonight…again," you muttered to yourself.

Many nights had passed, you decided to head back to the place where you had found the bear, and there you found its abandoned clothes and shoes. You examined the belongings, you noticed a set of bows and arrows, not so far behind along with a collection of knives. This was a hunter, you realized. No ordinary one, judging by the various types of knives at its disposal. And that's when you knew the bear's name, carved in on one of the knives.

"Natasha…" you read, your breath showing in the cold air as you read it.

She was all paws, at first. Her movements are awkward and uncoordinated, clumsily trying to adjust to her new form. You reasoned that perhaps some time spent as a bear would be beneficial. Humans, after all, seemed so lacking in magic, so terrible—so disconnected from the world and the elements around them.

But a number of new moons had passed. Despite your efforts, you were unable to undo the enchantment. The bear, formerly a human who was stuck in the form of a bear cub, now grew into a midsize bear, you cannot carry her around like a baby anymore. She had adapted to her new form, displaying a surprising level of intelligence and cooperation as you continued your attempts to unravel the magic you had inadvertently invoked.

Today, you had decided to ask the assistance of another witch who might be able to help you reverse the magic you had inflicted upon Natasha.

"Stinky! Come here!" you called out, beckoning for the bear to come closer. To your surprise, she actually started walking towards you, moving with a grace that didn't exactly scream "clumsy bear."

You leaned down to level her, "We're going to Asgard and I want you to behave, alright?" you instructed the bear, who simply tilted its head to the side in a cute manner. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, finding her antics endearing despite the situation.

"No swimming in the puddle, no biting anyone's shoe or cloak," you said sternly, listing off your rules for Natasha's behavior while visiting your friend. However, as you started listing her next instruction, you stopped when she dashed towards the window, growling at something outside.

When you followed her gaze, you noticed an owl perched outside the window, watching the two of you with its piercing eyes. You couldn't help but smile recognizing the owl, then in a blink of an eye the owl transformed into a human, revealing Loki himself.

"Loki, what are you doing here? I was supposed to come to your realm..."

Before you could even approach Loki for a hug, Natasha had already lunged forward and clamped her jaws onto the hem of your friend's cloak.

"Stinky! Hey! What did I tell you about biting!" you scolded, trying to get Natasha to release Loki's cloak. Your friend just simply laughed and gently dislodged the bear's jaw from the fabric.

"It's alright, my cloak can handle a little tug," he assured you, a smile playing on her lips. "You've got some territorial thing right there, huh?"

But your friend grew impatient, he smirked as he observed the bear's unwavering bite to his cloak before channeling his magic. With a flick of his wrist, he casted a spell that sent Natasha flying away to the side of the room. Your eyes widened in surprise as you watched Natasha land on the wooden floor with a loud thud. However, before you could rush to her aid, Loki stepped in and enveloped you in a warm embrace.

"It's been so long since I saw you little one."

Natasha who was still dazed from being thrown onto the ground, began to whine in pain. She attempted to move towards you, but before she could take a single step, Loki casted another spell. In a fraction of a second, Natasha's eyes drooped shut, and she succumbed to sleep, leaving you somewhat dumbfounded.

"Wow, that's uhm…" your voice was trailing off awkwardly as you stared at Natasha's knocked out form while Loki was still so busy embracing you.

"So what you need me for, little one?" your friend asked as he finally, finally pulled away.

You breathed, smoothing your dress. You finally eyed your friend who was looking at you questioningly and patiently.

"This…" you pointed at the bear, "this is what I need you for?" you smiled at her awkwardly before scratching the back of your head.

"That thing?" Loki asked, laughing out loud that for sure made the birds and small animals nearby your cottage scurried away.

"W-well, yes…I mean she's not a thing Loki, she…she was a human," your head was low and you looked at him, his arms crossing as he listened. Your fingers fidgeted with the laces of the corset, trying to discreetly adjust the garment that felt oddly constricting—you feel suffocated.

"You...a witch...has a human in yo—"

"I slipped during the first moon of winter and I accidentally turned her into…that." You bit your lip in embarrassment, not letting him finish his words, you know he will scold you. "Please help me?"

You knew Loki was far more experienced and knowledgeable than you when it came to magic, having lived for centuries. Compared to her, you were just a fledgling, "the little one" they call you. The thought made you feel somewhat inadequate, but you knew he was your best chance at reversing the enchantment you had cast upon Natasha.

"Sure, little one."

A thorn was picked out of your heart when Loki agreed to help. In your eagerness to get started, you quickly knelt down beside the sleeping bear, gently guiding its head onto your lap, its soil colored soft fur against your skin.

"Alright, let's get to work," he said, "First, I need to understand exactly what happened. Can you walk me through the spell you used that led to this...situation?"

Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to recall the exact details of the event.

"I honestly don't know," you confessed, a note of helplessness in your voice. "It was an accident, truly. I slipped on some snow, and...it just happened. A spell slipped out, and the next thing I knew, there was a bear where a human was supposed to be."

Loki listened intently and nodded to your explanation. Then, with a determined look in her eyes, he stepped closer to the bear and knelt in front of you both, he raised his hands in a gesture of summoning her magic. Then a green glow enveloped Natasha's sleeping form.

However, as he attempted to cast the spell to reverse the enchantment, it didn't work at first. A frown crossed his face as he tried again, his frustration growing as the spell remained unsuccessful.

As each enchantment failed, Natasha continued to writhe in pain, you could no longer bear the sight and shut your eyes tightly, trying to block out the scene. But you couldn't block out the sound of Natasha's whimpers, the soft, pitiful noises that tore at your heart and filled the room with a sense of helplessness.

"I might have to take her heart."

But yours dropped at what he just said.

"What? No!" you protested pulling the bear's unconscious body who's still whimpering in pain.

"That's the only way littl—"

"No…" you insisted, looking at Natasha who was curled like a ball on your lap, you gently caressed her fur—no magic, hoping that it would lessen the pain that she's feeling.

"If that's the only way then no, it could kill her Loki."

"Little one, no it won't—"

"But it will hurt her." Your voice almost cracked as you said it. "Goodbye, Loki. I'm sorry for wasting your time." You said with a finality, you will not have her take Natasha's heart.

Your friend's face softened as she realized that you were adamant in your decision and he respected it. He now stood and patted your head.

"I'll see you, little one." With that, he transformed back into being an owl. Her wings fluttered as he took flight and disappeared out the open window, leaving you alone with a bear that was supposed to be back to its human form now.

"I'm so sorry Stinky, I promise I won't stop until we get you back. Alright?"

⧗

You decided it was time to venture into town. The supplies in the cottage were running low, and a fresh batch of ingredients would allow you to continue concocting more potent potions in your pursuit to restore your companion to her human form. Also, for some food restocking especially that you had ten human stomachs living in your place.

As a bear, Natasha was a bit less picky with her food. She pretty much devoured whatever she could find, and one evening, you nearly panicked when she bit into a bird she had found pecking at some berries. You had to quickly and harshly open her mouth to spit the poor bird out, and she did so, albeit reluctantly, looking at you defiantly with bird feathers stuck in her teeth. And there was another afternoon, when you had been out gathering firewood, you burst into the cottage with an armful of it. And there she was, standing in your living room particularly proud of herself as she held up the snake in her grotesque teeth, waiting for your reaction. But you dropped the firewoods and let out a shrill scream as you saw the large snake still moving from her mouth.

She looked at you with all innocence and confusion in her eyes, tilting her head as if to ask, why were you freaking out? You swear you had to remove the thought of having her in a cage because being trapped in a bear's body is too much already.

As you strolled through town ready to go back to the forest after picking some things, you noticed some papers scattered on the plaza. You frowned and reached one.

"Missing…" you whispered to yourself, you examined the drawing of the missing person with great care. It was a woman, you studied her appearance described within. The image was black and white but conveyed the distinctive attributes; she had her hair in braids, and she boasted massive arms, pointed eyes, and a prominent nose.

"Natasha Romanoff?" The name felt like a curse in your mouth as you read the ink printed on the paper and you almost choked.

"A witch hunter…"

You immediately crumpled it and put it in your basket before walking away from the town, not even daring to turn back.

As you walked the trail on your way home with unease, you noticed footprints marking the ground. You reached the ground touching the dirt.

Horses.

You also smelled a faint smell of fresh tobacco lingering in the air. Someone had been here recently, and they must be nearby.

And your cottage is nearby.

You immediately run and as you approach your secluded cottage, nestled in the hills, and the sight of two horses grazing in the meadow sets your heart racing. They stand abandoned, their saddles empty, and there's no sign of their riders. The silence of the hills suddenly feels oppressive, and you can't help but wonder who has been here, and what they could want with your humble home.

You were so startled by the sudden voice that you dropped everything you had just bought from the town—a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of honey for Natasha, and a few ingredients for the next potion you're going to work on with her as well as the crumpled paper you picked from the plaza. You whirled around to see a man with an eye patch approaching you.

"Do you live here?" he asked, his one good eye locking onto yours.

"Y-Yes," you stammered, your mouth going dry as you took in the sight of the man. "I live here. Can I help you with something?" you tried to steady your voice as you spoke, hoping the stranger didn't notice your nerves. He seemed to be assessing you, his one eye scanning you up and down. He stopped when he saw the scar burn in your arm and you instinctively pulled down your sleeves to cover it.

It was a burn you got from one of the items Natasha left, a cold iron. And it is one of your weaknesses—witches' weaknesses.

He continued his questions, his eye narrowed. "You live here, alone, in this forest?" he paused for a moment. You remained silent, not wanting to reveal too much, especially not your secret as a witch.

He seemed to take your silence as an answer, and continued. "Aren't you afraid?"

You shook your head side by side.

As the stranger spoke, he began to explain that he and his friend were nearby looking for someone—a woman who had gone missing months ago. He described her with the same features you saw on the paper you found in a plaza that is now crumpled in the dirt in front of you. You simply stepped at the paper wishing he wouldn't see it.

"She was last seen around here. Have you seen anyone here in the past weeks? Months?" you felt your throat go dry, the words getting caught in your throat.

Well, you didn't. All you have seen around in the past months was a small brown bear.

Then all of a sudden a shout emitted in the air, and the bear as you speak, charging after a man. Instinctively, you reacted and kneeled down, stopping the bear in its tracks. You carried her in a hip hold, feeling her fur and her trembling body as she tried to catch her breath. The stranger stood there in shock.

"Stinky? What did I tell you? Hm?" you groaned, adjusting her from your hip, she's becoming a little too heavy now.

"That's a monster!" he shouted, making the one-eyed man palm his face.

"She's just a bear." You hissed that made the wonky man shake even more.

They had absolutely no idea that this bear could be the same woman they were looking for. Even though you knew that they could be her family, and you were the one who caused her to be in this bear form, you couldn't help but feel selfish. You felt a fierce desire to keep her with you. You knew it was wrong, but the feeling of possessiveness was getting the best of you.

"We're going to leave you now," the one-eyed man spoke, his friend beside him still shaking as they walked to their horses.

As you put the bear on the ground, the man called again.

"Young lady, be careful."

It should bring you comfort as they were intended to offer, but the tone of his voice made it feel like a threat, as if he knew more than you wanted him to know.

⧗

You huffed as a nose nudged your elbow. "What?"

Natasha, despite her animalistic state, still exhibited human-like behaviors. She grabbed a hold of your cloak with her teeth, whining softly at you.

You sighed heavily, accepting the cloak from her. Even though Natasha's actions were those of a bear, you could sense the familiar gesture, and your heart ached at the thought.

"Thank you," you whispered, wrapping the cloak around your shoulders, the fabric feeling both comforting and melancholic.

The bear moaned before lumbering across the fire from you. She sat patiently, knowing how this worked by now.

You continued to rack your brain, trying to think of any possible solution to the enchantment. This was far from being the first attempt you had made to turn her back into a human, yet all your efforts seemed fruitless.

Despite your growing frustration, you refused to give up. You were determined to find a way to restore Natasha's human form, even if it meant exhausting all possible avenues and risking failure again.

You knew that the situation wasn't as simple as casting a basic spell, because spells could easily wear off or become dependent on the subject's current condition. And it wasn't a curse either, because you hadn't experienced any negative effects yourself. Nothing tethered your life to hers.

But she is your responsibility, it was your fault she's being like this—you were the reason why she's suffering. Even as she had grown much larger, no longer able to fit comfortably on your bed, she still loyally slept on the hearth beside you every night. You continued to share your meals with her and worked on spells and potions together, despite knowing that each attempt was a gamble and could potentially fail.

"This might be it," you whispered, watching as the steam from the potion began to recede. The potion's color shifted, and when you looked at the viscous liquid, you could almost see your reflection.

With a shaky hand, you carefully picked up a ladleful of the potion and offered the bowl to Natasha.

The bear wrinkled her nose at the smell of the potion, sticking out her tongue in distaste.

"Come on, it can't be that bad." You said, holding the bowl out persistently.

After a moment's hesitation, Natasha accepted the bowl in her oversized paws. She sniffed at the potion once more, her nose twitching as she took in the scent. Then, after a brief moment, she dared to take a small lick of the liquid.

You couldn't help but smile at the bear's reaction to the steaming hot potion.

"You silly stinky, it's a bit hot," you warned, chuckling lightly as you watched her expression.

She let out a series of sounds, and you couldn't help but wonder what her human voice would sound like. She went to fetch a mouthful of snow to cool her mouth and then ate the remaining potion with her sharp, bear-like teeth.

You held your breath, your knuckles turning white as you clenched the edges of your cloak tightly. The cold mountain breeze swept around you, but you barely felt it as you waited anxiously for a reaction from the bear.

It was no longer feasible to conduct experiments with Natasha inside the cottage; her size had become too large to contain within the four walls—almost thrice the size of you. After the messy fiasco that resulted from the previous indoor spell, you had decided to avoid any further incidents inside your dwelling. The memory of the hours spent cleaning the aftermath was still fresh in your mind.

You studied the bear as she looked around her surroundings and then down at her paws.

It didn't work.

It was clear that the spell had no effect, not a bit, causing her to deflate and slump down in the snow.

You averted your gaze to your own feet, your boots sinking into the snow. Disappointment coursed through you, the familiar sense of failure settling in your chest. You had hoped that this time, the spell might have been the solution, but once again, you were met with another dead end. It wasn't just the failed potion that weighed heavily on your mind, but the profound sadness evident on Natasha. Perhaps she missed her old life, or maybe there was a significant event coming up in her human existence. You also hadn't had the chance to inquire if she had family or friends waiting for her. How could you? You literally turned her into a bear?

Natasha, still in her bear form sat up again despite her weary demeanor, her ears drooping sadly. She let out a faint moan, her breath visible as it left her muzzle in the cold air.

Your heart ached as you watched her reaction. Every failed attempt weighed heavily on your soul, but this one felt particularly disheartening. Your hopes had been soaring high, and you truly believed that you had concocted the correct formula this time.

You had even gotten her hopes up about this latest attempt. You had scrutinized the spell book together, acquired the necessary ingredients and confidently told her that maybe this time, the spell would work for sure. The potion was meant to reverse the development of cells, typically used on vegetables to undo being pickled. However, you had delved deeper into research and believed that it could potentially work on a living subject.

In preparation, you had even tested the spell on fish, which you had generously offered to Natasha as a tasty reward. Indeed, the spell had functioned perfectly.

"I'm so sorry."

With a mournful expression, the bear raised its head, looking directly at you. Even while seated, she stood tall enough to meet your gaze.

"I thought—" your voice caught in your throat as tears threatened to escape and you swiftly pressed your lips shut. You didn't have the right to weep; it was her life who had endured the more profound suffering.

Your hand reached out to gently caress her head, your fingers threading through the soft, brown fur. Your thoughts drifted to those moments when she would sneak into your bed for warmth and you would idly toy with her ears while she slept.

The bear emitted a soft bellow, leaning forward to tenderly nuzzle her snout against your tear-streaked cheek. She then placed her head on your shoulder and encircled you with her embrace, her large paw draped around you carefully so as not to harm you with her sharp claws.

Bears possessed remarkably warm bodies, and when she pulled you so close, her heat enveloped your body, a comforting presence amidst the disappointment and yet another failure.

You pressed your nose against the fur of her neck and took a deep breath, appreciating the improvement in her scent compared to the days when she was smaller and clumsier. She had grown out of her messy phase, no longer getting her food everywhere, which meant fewer baths.

You gave her chest a firm pat, "Come on." you said gently, signaling her to follow as you led her back towards the safety and warmth of the cottage.

In solemn silence, the bear followed behind you, her large paws kicking up plumes of snow to smother the lingering flames of disappointment from the failed spell.

It was a disheartening moment, and you both knew that the abandoned cauldron would remain behind, its contents and the memories of your hopes extinguished by the snow's cold embrace.

You did your best to restrain your tears as you stepped inside the cottage, hanging up your cloak beside the door. Your bear companion waddled straight to the fireplace and collapsed heavily onto the rug you had woven for her, groaning faintly as her weight fell heavily on the woven fibers.

When Natasha felt you against her back, she stirred, and the ache in your heart intensified once again, knowing that the solution still eluded you.

"I'm sorry, Stinky." Your voice choked with tears as you pressed your face against her fur, letting the hot liquid from your eyes soak into the thick hairs. She responded with a deep sigh, her muzzle lifting slightly to ruffle your hair. Your heart ached.

"I never meant to alter your life like this." You murmured, the weight of guilt heavy on your conscience.

She didn't exactly have a reply for you.

You leaned heavily on her chest, the weight of disappointment and exhaustion taking its toll. "But I won't stop. I won't give up until I change you back."

The guilt from being partially responsible for her current state continued to gnaw at you. You couldn't help but contemplate the possible scenario of her going back to her human form.

But you will take it, everything.

Even if she harbors resentment towards you, even if she yelled and screamed at you in fury, even if she arrived brandishing a pitchfork with the town's folk with the intent to burn down your cottage.

Or perharps she would torture you herself and bring you to the town where the people would decide how you'll die in their hand.

She was missing, she was declared missing by her people and it was your fault.

You know damn well she will kill you. Oh she will.

A witch hunter, turned into a bear by a witch…supposedly you should've just kicked her out or killed her like any other witches would do the day you found the paper in the town or the day you found out that she's a witch hunter or maybe the same day you saw her.

A witch hunter and a witch, you're dead—not if you kill her first though.

But still you had offered a sanctuary within your cottage and you still couldn't disregard the fact that this was all just temporary respite against the cold for her. She was probably longing for the familiarity of her own home, her own family. What if those old creeps who were looking for her were her family? What if she had a partner who whispered tender words to her in the soft darkness of night? And what if she had children who questioned each twilight about the whereabouts of their mother? Were her children's bedtime tales whispered by a grandmother about wicked witches who abducted huntsmen, ensnaring them as their eternal slaves?

You would give the potion another try, but this time you would be more meticulous in your tests. You would extend your research to include larger specimens, more varied species. As a witch, your life was committed to the magic and pursuit of its limitless knowledge, and this Natasha's transformation back to her human form had become your new mission. Despite knowing that she would likely loathe you and curse your name across the annals of time.

You couldn't fathom how you'd manage to rest with such thoughts haunting your mind. Nevertheless, before you had drifted off to sleep, you reached to kiss Natasha's cheek before burying your face into the comforting softness of her fur, still carrying a hint of the fire's smoke. The alluring warmth radiating from her enveloped you, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your face in her fur once more, your fingers tenderly combing through the silky strands—to the mark you etched in her skin.

You groggily opened your eyes, sensing a different sensation the next morning. The bear's fur didn't feel quite the same as it had the night before, and when you attempted to rouse yourself further, a wince escaped your lips. You knew that crafting a new potion or casting a spell each evening drew heavily on your magical reserves, and you were rapidly approaching your limit.

"You okay?"

"Hm…" you moaned lazily as sunlight touched your slumbering eyes, gradually awakening to your surroundings. It dawned on you that you were still on the floor, gazing up at the now extinguished fireplace. Given the absence of warmth, you anticipated being chilled. However, you noted an unexpected comfort, realizing you weren't in your bed but rather resting upon something solid and warm...a chest, perhaps?

Your head snapped upright, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave. It wasn't your bear with her massive black eyes, nor the damp, cold nose. It is a human, a strong pair of muscular arms wrapping you close, with a body and her auburn hair almost covering half her face but you didn't miss the pleasant smile that graced her lips, and the sound of her deep soft hum reaching your ears.

"S-stinky?"

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader

408 notes · View notes

pedroscurls · 5 days ago

Note

Hii love. Can you please do something about Harry or Joel. He has some type of insecurity and it gets worse one night when you are out at an activity or party maybe. You looked beautiful and lots of guys kept talking to you and trying to make a move.

So after you finally realize what is wrong with Harry/Joel, you make sure he feels loved and understands you only have eyes for him.

Something like that, thank you!

no one else comes close (one-shot)

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): spoilers, so please beware!!!, harry POV, harry's super insecure, established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader (we're all beautiful here!!!), no use of y/n. word count: 1.9k a/n: shout out to you, anon for this incredibly sweet request! i don't usually take requests, but i loved this idea so much and i've been obsessed with harry that i couldn't not write it. hope you enjoy this and ty for sending this in <3 (btw this isn't proofread lol, i wrote this in like 2 hrs bc it's just such a good idea! so if there are errors, sorry in advanced!)

Harry was never a jealous man—at least not until he was in a relationship with you. It was ridiculous really because you had never given him the reason to feel this way. Whenever you both went out, he had gotten used to the lingering glances that would come your way. You were always so polite, so kind to everyone you met.

But tonight, he wasn’t sure why the scars on his legs were making him insecure. It was one of the first things he told you—he didn’t want any secrets between either of you. You had looked at him with such a sad look on your face that Harry wasn’t sure if you were pitying him or embarrassed for him. It had taken him by surprise when you told him that you were sorry he felt that way, that he felt so strongly about increasing his height that he had to endure all that pain.

Harry knew he loved you at that moment. You had always been different from the women he dated, but you never did care about his money or any of the materialistic things he had to offer you. You had been hurt in the past and the only thing you asked of him was to be completely and truthfully honest with you—about anything, about everything.

Even now, as the men at the bar are casting glances in your direction, Harry couldn’t help but curl his hands into fists against the counter of the bar. It shouldn’t bother him, especially since there’s a pretty decent-sized engagement ring sitting on your finger. He tried to smile at what you and his brother were saying, but he couldn’t help but continue to look around the room.

He had to wonder if he hadn’t been the height he was at now, would you even be interested in him? Would you have even gone on a first date with him? Said yes to marry him? Harry knew the answer to all of the questions that nagged at him—yes.

Yes—you would still have been interested in him, would still have gone on that first date with him, and you certainly would have said yes to marry him. Harry knew that you didn’t care about looks, about height—you loved him for him. The good. The bad. The ugly. You accepted him entirely, even embraced parts of him that he tried so hard to push aside because it just never worked in the past. With you, Harry felt like himself.

Harry heard you whisper into his ear that you were going on the dance floor with Charlotte—his sister-in-law. He didn’t have time to object, to instead tell you that he wanted to go home. You were already halfway to the dance floor, body swaying expertly to the beat of the music. He watched you vigilantly, keeping a careful eye on you. Even from afar, you made sure to glance in his direction and smile at him—a smile so big that it met your eyes and Harry, for a brief moment, forgot the lingering insecurity and jealousy that he felt all night.

Harry winked at you and then decided to look away. You were going home with him, so he had no reason to be jealous. His brother clasped him on his shoulder and they ordered another round of drinks, casually talking about work. It hadn’t been five minutes before Harry felt the urge to look at you again. He looked over his shoulder casually, caught a glimpse of your smile before he turned back around. Slowly, he felt more comfortable—the jealousy and insecurity now an afterthought.

Leg lengthening surgery—as painful as it was—had been the best decision of his life. Harry felt more respected, more valuable. No one else needed to know that he had gone through great lengths just to add six inches to his height. It bothered him though, how other men who were naturally six feet and above would just take it for granted. He tried not to think so materialistically, especially since you had told him that you never had an issue with dating someone under six feet, but there were moments where he couldn’t help it. He had grown up around that kind of thinking—the way you presented yourself mattered.

“Oh shit,” he heard his brother whisper under his breath, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion until he followed his brother’s gaze to the dance floor. A man was trying to dance with you and there was a look of discomfort in your features that he noticed immediately. Through your discomfort, Harry noticed how you had gently taken a step back from the other man—to distance your body with his. He wasn’t sure what you were telling him, but from the look of disappointment on the other man’s face, Harry had an idea.

“She can handle herself,” Harry replied to his brother, though he hoped that saying it out loud would convince himself that he didn’t need to intervene.

Harry met your eyes and he gave you a single nod, which you returned instantly. You were ready to go home and Harry was more than willing to leave. As you were walking back to the bar though, several men tried to come up to you and strike a conversation. You forced a smile and politely declined, oblivious to their lingering eyes on your body. Harry’s jaw tightened and he downed his drink in one gulp before excusing himself to meet you halfway.

“Yeah, think it’s time to go,” he heard his brother say from behind him.

Harry didn’t bother to respond. His main focus was to get to you. Once at an arm’s distance, Harry reached out for you and took your hand, immediately pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, forehead leaning down to rest against your own. To you, Harry was being sweet, but to him—he was telling every man in this bar that you were off-limits.

“Can we go home?” he asked quietly, hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Back at Harry’s penthouse, he had already changed into a black t-shirt and sleep pants. He was in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as his mind drifted again. Tonight had given him a glimpse of a life that he didn’t want—a life without you. You could have been with any other guy in that bar, could have said yes to someone else other than him and again, he wondered if you would have even said yes if he was at his actual height of 5’6.

Harry didn’t hear you come into the kitchen, but he felt your soft touch on his shoulder. He cleared his throat quietly and turned around to face you—his insecurity written all over his face as his deep brown eyes softened at the sight of you.

“Hey,” you whispered, hands coming up to rest on his chest. “You okay?”

Harry nodded, kissed your cheek, and then pulled away. “Just tired. Ready for bed?”

You furrowed a brow. Harry knew better than to lie to you. “Yeah, I am,” you answered. “But something’s wrong. I can tell.”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he lied once more.

You sighed and moved to sit on one of the stools at the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Harry bit the inside of his cheek nervously and rested his forearms against the counter as he leaned against it, staring into your eyes.

“If I wasn’t six feet tall, would you still be with me? Would you have even said yes when I asked you out on a date?” Harry blurted out.

“What?”

“If you met me and noticed that I was actually 5’6, would that have made a difference? Would we even be here?” He repeated.

You reached out for his hand and leaned forward to press your lips against the back of it. You never looked away, just held his gaze. “Yes, we would be right here where we’re meant to be even if you were 5’6,” you answered. “Your height isn’t the reason why I said yes. You know this.”

“I know… I just—” Harry sighed. “A lot of men like to stare at you. No matter where we are—bar, restaurant, even at a fucking family party. And tonight, it just got to me. All these men were just gawking at you,” he finally looked away—embarrassed that he was even feeling this way. “And then some even had the audacity to ask you to dance or even for your number despite the engagement ring you’re wearing.”

“Harry,” you whispered, climbing off the stool to stand next to him. You gently released his hand, only to have him turn his body to face you. You reached up and cupped his cheek—his eyes filled with so much sadness. “I chose you because you make me laugh, make me smile… We can talk literally about anything and nothing at the same time. My favorite place to be is in your arms. You’re my best friend, six feet or not. Rich or poor. You’re the only one I have eyes for,” you continued. “I chose you before. I’m choosing you now. And I will continue to choose you for the rest of my life.”

Harry’s eyes softened instantly, glistening with tears that threatened to spill over. He moved a hand to your hip, gripping it tightly under his grasp as he pulled you flush against him. “I’m just in my head and—”

“Stop,” you interrupted. “You have every right to feel the way that you do. Your feelings are valid, baby. But I’m here to tell you that if you need a reminder, I’m more than happy to tell you just how much I love you—how you’re the only man for me. No one else comes close, Harry.”

Harry nodded and moved his other hand to your hip before wrapping both arms tightly around you to pull you into a tight embrace. His face buried against the crook of your neck as he let out a heavy sigh when your hands moved to rub his back soothingly. He hadn’t ever felt a kind of love like this before.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” you answered instantly, pressing a soft kiss against his temple. “Now, let’s go to bed so that we can cuddle.”

Harry smiled and pulled back to look down at you. “Yes, ma’am.” He lifted you into his arms and carried you back to the bedroom. Once he set you on the bed, he pulled off his sleep pants and set it aside before climbing onto the bed and underneath the sheets. Harry immediately spooned you from behind, his arm draping over your midsection as he held you close to him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you whispered.

Harry nodded against you, face buried against you. “I know, baby. I just didn’t want to bother you with all of the things that were going on in my head.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled, moving a hand over his and lacing your fingers together. “You’d never bother me, Harry. Besides, if the roles were reversed, I know you’d tell me the same thing.”

He chuckled and kissed the side of your neck. “Okay, fair point.”

You smiled proudly and leaned back against him. Harry tightened his grip around you and shut his eyes. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, baby,” he whispered. Harry knew that his insecurities wouldn’t magically go away, but he felt safe and heard with you by his side. He brushed his thumb across your engagement ring and he let out a contented sigh. “Thank you for choosing me,” he said quietly.

392 notes · View notes

cumironi · 2 years ago

Text

TIME TO CONFESS .ᐟ

𖧷 ryomen sukuna. halloween night and you decided to go to the party that you're best friend(maybe)— Yuji Itadori has at his house and he has an older brother, a hot, sexy and handsome older brother, Sukuna. You're having a crush on him for as long as you can remember, and the goddess of luck seems like it on your side that night.

beware. olderbrother! sukuna, jealous!sukuna, virgin! reader, human sukuna, non-sorcerer, praise, degradation, names calling, chocking, hair-pulling, dirty talk, rough sex.

“y/n, you came,” the pink-haired boy shouted between the loud music. with a drink in his left hand, he came to you and hugged you. you smiled at him and hugged him back as you felt he kiss your cheeks. he looked at you up and down before tilting his head to the side, “devil, huh?” you are sure you can see lust in his eyes as he scans your body.

yuji is wearing a tight, spiderman costume. you can see the outline of his dick, even from afar— he has a big and long dick, that's for sure. “you look good in this,” you smile as you run your hands on his stomach, feeling his hard-rock abs. he smirks at you before letting his hands that in your back go down to your ass, squeeze it as he pulls you closer until your tits touch his chest.

“come on, let's meet the others.”

he holds your waist as he guides you somewhere. his huge house is painted with halloween decoration. “it's so crowded in here, how many people do you invite?” you ask him as you look around. his place is filled with people you didn't know.

“i don't know exactly,” he laughed.

he brought you to the sofa where you could see all your friends. “lady, you look hot,” yuta came, both hands holding a drink you assume for maki, his girlfriend. you look at him up and down and send him a smirk, “you, yourself look hot too, not as hot as your girlfriend tho.” he rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly, “yeah, can't argue with you bout that.” he kissed you check before sit beside his girlfriend and hand her the drink. they both dressed as a couple— harley quinn and joker.

“come here,” Yuji sat himself beside a spike-haired boy known as megumi fushiguro and pulled you by hand to sit on his lap. his palm hand rested on your ass— squeeze it in tiny from time to time. for quite a long minutes you just sat on yuji's lap and talked with your friends. nobara hands you a glass of alcohol as he sits beside maki and looks at yuji. “have you met yuko ozawa?” she asked and lifted her eyebrows.

“who?” you asked and looked at the boy. he looked at you and nobara alternately before waving his hand in the air. “there's no reason for me to meet her,” he said which made the girl roll her eyes. ��yuko ozawa was the girl from junior high school, yuji's ex,” megumi explain to you, you nodded your head as a respond. “she cheated on me, don't want to have anything to do with a cheater,” yuji added.

“yeah, I just pity her because she seems so desperate and causes a lot of drama, it's mental,” nobara remarked and took a sip of her alcohol. “you guys just wanna sit here and talk? you should go home instead,” inumaki said and went where people were dancing, followed by megumi and nobara— who literally had to drag the boy to dance with her. “we wanna go somewhere too,” Yuta said, smiling at you and yuji. his hand wrapped around maki's waist as the girl leaned her body to her boyfriend.

“please wear condoms, I don't want to clean your mess again, it's disgusting,” yuji begged. the black-haired boy's face became a crimson red and cleared his throat. “were not that messy,” he mumbled as you laugh, making his face become even redder in embarrassment. “we can make a mess as much as we want, you just sad because nobody's want to fuck you,” maki defend her boyfriend.

“come on baby, don't mind them.”

and the two of them lose between the crowd, leaving you with yuji. you shift your attention from the crowd to yuji as you feel his hands rub your tight smoothly. “wanna dance?” he asked, nearly whispering. he looked into your eyes for a moment before focusing on your parted lips. “i don't know, there are too many people,” you whispered back to him. he could feel your breath kiss his face. “maybe we can stay here for a while,” he mumbles on your lips before he kisses you.

you can taste the alcohol on his lips, vaguely. you corrected your sitting position, previously you were sitting crookedly on his lap, now you are sitting on his lap with your legs on the sides of his thighs, holding him in place. yuji runs his hand to your tight, moving them to your ass and squeezing them— rocking you back and forth on top of his lap. you can feel his dick getting harder under your cunt.

“fuck, y/n,” he moaned in your mouth.

you keep grinding on yuji's dick and hug his neck to pull him closer, losing your finger under his soft and fluffy locks. feeling your finger on his scalp makes yuji moan. he put his tongue in your mouth, lock them with yours. you can feel a bit of your saliva run down to your chin from the side of your mouth. your body feels hot because of the make-out because yuji's hands keep squeezing your ass and spanking them slightly, because of how hard you can feel his dick under your cunt.

“you are so fucking sexy,” he whispered as he pulls away from your sloppy make-out session and look the trace of saliva on your chin. he grabbed your neck and pulled you closer making you yelp in lust. he kisses your neck, sucks them and bites them— giving you a hickey. “yes baby, keep going,” he breath out on your neck, telling you to keep moving on his dick and make them wet with his precum and your wetness, lucky for him you decide not to wear any underwear.

you're so busy with yuji and your little world that you don't realize someone was watching you the entire time. from the moment you walk into the door until you are on yuji's lap, making the boy's dick harder each second— boring his eyes on your back wishing he could just make you despair.

“i'm gonna go get a drink, wait for me yeah?” you tell yuji, giving him a little kiss on the lips before getting up. “don't make me wait too long,” he spoke as you saw him run his hand to his throbbing dick. you can see a white stain on his costume and the way his dick looks more visible and longer than before. you feel your cunt twitching because of the sight. “I won't, pretty boy.” with that you waltz your way into the crowd, where all the alcohol is.

you put some candy in your mouth as you pour some alcohol into your plastic cup and suddenly a raspy and deep voice could be heard from behind you as the hot wind kisses your naked shoulder. “fuck,” you muttered in surprised and snap your neck to find whoever does that to you. your eyes meet with red pupils, blue light flashing on the eyes, face covered with a tattoo, hair styles up showing his loving forehead. “sukuna,” you breathe out making the man smirk.

“doll face,” he teased.

he smirks, but you can clearly tell he's upset. his eyes darker than usual, his smirk looks more sinister rather than in a flirty way, and his hot breath kisses your face— heating your cheeks. ryomen sukuna, yuji's older brother, mean, arrogant yet so fucking hot older brother, also your crush for you don't know how long.

he's wearing a priest costume— in slutty way that shows his tattoo and his eight-pack. ever since you lie your eyes on sukuna's shirtless form the first time you come to their place, all you could ever think about is how good it must feel to get fuck by him. you make it obvious, shamelessly showing your body with how little you let the fabric cover your body everytime you come over when you know he's around.

sukuna knows that he knows how desperate you are to want his dick to be inside your cunt. he likes the attention and effort you gave to him and seduces him. as much as an asshole he is, you're his little brother's best friend, someone who he cares about, so he doesn't do anything about it.

at least not until he saw you walking through his front door, looking all sexy and gorgeous, and seeing your make-out session with yuji makes him jealous—he doesn't want to admit it— but all he's thinking about right now is fuck you to oblivion and remind you that he's the only man you want, he's the only one you want to get fucked by, not his brother.

that's why you are in your position right now, pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around sukuna's waist, in his bedroom, forgetting yuji who was waiting for your return. his big hand in your ass to support your body so you don't fall. lips collided for dear life, doesn't care how you're about to lose your breath.

you pull away only for him to grip your nape and smashed his lips back. “don't fucking move,” he growls, biting your lips in the process. you whimper when you feel a bit sting on your lips and that's only to encourage sukuna to kiss you more and put his tongue inside your mouth.

sukuna's left hand that was still under your ass moves upward, feeling your naked-soaked cunt. he smirks when you moan from his touch, leaving your lips to look at your face. “so you decided to come here to party, where you know there's gonna be a lot of drunk-loser and humping on my brother without wearing any underwear? are you really that desperate for a dick, y/n? hm?” his middle finger going up and down between your fold. “you're so fucking wet, it is because of my brother or me?” he looks into your eyes, still with a cocky smirk on his lips.

he tightened his grip on your neck as you refused to speak. “answer me when I fucking talk to you, y/n,” he commanded and shoved his two fingers inside your cunt roughly. “f— fuck sukuna,” you whimper and close your eyes for a second. “bet you can get wet easily no matter who he is since you're so fucking desperate for a dick,” he mocked you. “only for your dick,” you tell him, confidently locking your eyes with his. sukuna lifts his eyebrows after hearing your words.

“yeah?”

so he puts you down and sits on his chair— manspread. he pats his one tight, signalling you to sit there. “sit here and hump on my tight, show me how such a fucking slut you are,” his deep voice calls you. with no hesitation you sit on one of his laps and start to move your hips back and forth. your bent knee found themselves on sukuna's dick, rubbing it from the outside of his black pants. sukuna moans, throwing his head back for a second. one of his hands gripping harshly on your hips to support your moves.

he pulls the zipper of your dress down, leaving you with nothing but a fake wing on your back. he guides your hand to his dick— you can feel his erection. you pull his dick out of his pants and your eyes widen because of the sight in front of you. you sure that sukuna has a massive dick, more long and thick than yuji, but you don't expect it to be that big, clean and trimmed. he's probably nearly 11 inches and 5cm girth.

you shift from his dick to look at his face— which is already looking at you with a sly grin. he knows you've never seen a dick as massive as his and it boosts his confidence until it hits the roof. you wrap your little finger around his dick, spreading his precum around the head with your thumb.

“fuck, y/n,” he breathed out. heart beating fast and lips dry, he lets you play with his dick while you keep humping on his tight, making a mess there. he feels hot, burning as he looks at your pretty face. his dick frantically fucking your fist as you keep on making a mess over his tight.

your tiny hands fit perfectly on his dick, but it's not enough for sukuna. he wants your mouth around his dick, begging and on your knees. “fuck y/n, your hand fit perfectly on my dick, wondering how your mouth feels sucking me— fuck, get on your knees, baby,” he can't take it anymore. you obey him and go down on the floor, on your knees as sukuna stands tall with his dick in Infront of your face. he pulls down his pants and throws it somewhere you don't pay any attention to.

sukuna looked at you and gave his dick a few strokes, grunting in between. his red eyes were half open, full of lust and danger— your strange addiction. he placed his free hand on top of your head as he smacked your lips with his dick.

you look up to him with your big innocent eyes, quite the opposite of your state right now. sukuna's dick twitched in pain because of the sight. he squeeze his dick lightly before, “open your mouth, it's time to confess your sin, slut,” he demanded.

you stick your tongue out, touching his mushroom head with it, “forgive me, father, for i have sinned,” and with that slowly you put his dick into your mouth. again, sukuna cocking his head back with his dick touching with warmth and wetness of your mouth.

his hand tightly grips your hair— holding you to stay in place as he tries to get used to your filthy mouth. and the sentence you just said to him wasn't giving him any help at all, only making him more hornier than before.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n!”

he looked back at you as he slowly rocked his hips back and forth inside your mouth. you can only fit almost half of his dick, even your jaw hurts because of how thick his dick is. “open your mouth properly baby, I know your mouth can take me,” he moaned. you shake your head slightly and try to push him by his tight only for him to wrap your hair around his hands and push his dick further until the head touches your throat down. “ah, fuck, like that baby,” a load whimpers left sukuna's mouth and close his eyes— enjoying the feeling of his dick bottomed out inside your mouth. you hit his tight with your palm as you feel like you can't breathe and tears start to gather around your eyes.

he keeps on fucking your throat without any mercy, he doesn't care how tears keep streaming down your face, how red your face is because of lack of oxygen. all he ever thinks and cares about is how good his dick felt inside your mouth. you don't either, all you ever wanted is to feel sukuna to spit his cum and fill your throat. your tongue sends a burning sensation into sukuna's dick, playing with his vein and tip while he keeps on fucking your throat— making him cum faster than he usually is. “fuck, fuck, baby, ’m close, so good— ah..” and a second later you feel something exploded inside your mouth, leaving an aftertaste of sweet, salty and a little bit sour. you gladly swallow all of sukuna's semen without a second thought.

he waits for a few seconds until you swallow all of his cum before he drew his dick out and met with your cough as you tried to grasp some air. you pulled out your tongue to show him and he chuckled sinisterly and stroked your head gently, “you're such a good girl, y/n.” he gripped on your chin between his thumb and index finger and stuck his tongue inside your mouth to feel himself before kissing you roughly. “do you want me to fuck you, hm? want me to fuck you good, baby?” he mumbles on your lips and slaps your sloppy cunt. “yes, sukuna, yes.. fuck me,” you sound more desperate.

he smirked, “come here, slut.”

he carried you to the bed, laying you on your back with your feet at the edge. he threw your feet over his shoulder while pressing the other one to the bed, making your cunt wide open. he smiles as he looks at your cunt, feeling proud of himself to know how wet he gets you. “look at you, y/n, you're so fucking wet, i don't even get to use my hands. who knows yuji has such a slutty friend. or it's because you like me, hm?” feels like all of the blood from your body makes its way to your cheeks, making you look so innocent yet so dirty. so all this time, he knows you like him. you feel embarrassed which makes sukuna laugh a little.

“you make it obvious, with the way you dress and how much you try to impress me and to get you fucked—” he stopped for a while as he parts your fold to look at your holes clutch into nothingness. “you're doing a pretty good job since I always have to fuck my fist every time you come over with that slutty outfit of yours,” he put his two fingers inside your mouth, cover them with your saliva before sticking them inside your cunt, slowly going in an out. “gonna stretch this cunt before you get to taste my dick,” he talks to himself, looking at his hands before looking back at you. “you must be feeling grateful now you're about to get fucked by me.”

you moaned in pleasure but sukuna didn't let you have your fun for a long time as he collected his finger. you cry in dissatisfaction and narrow your eyes at him. “be patient baby. I'm gonna give you something more than a finger, I'll get you pregnant, gonna fuck you until you can't walk,” he pulls you by the neck to kiss you roughly. his hands went down to your cunt to wet his palm with your juice, use it as a lube for his dick. he rub his dick to your cunt as you mewl. “please, sukuna, fuck me. i want your dick inside my pussy so bad, please,” you begged on his lips, between the kiss.

“yeah? you sure?”

you nodded, “yes, been waiting for this dick for too long.”

he smiles and pushes you back to the bed. “such an impatient little whore.” and without further ado, he thrust his dick into your cunt slowly, he wants to feel how good your cunt is for the first. “oh fuck, sukuna,” you choked and your back arch as sukuna's dick fill you. “so tight, shit. I never knew you were going to be this tight, baby,” he growled— feel your gummy wall hug his dick perfectly. soon the loud claps of your skins touching reverberate through the wall of the room. the sound of skin slapping along with your screams made sukuna content.

“fuck y/n, pussy so good— ah!”

he keeps pounding his dick inside you, hitting your sweet spot every time. the second the sight of his dick bulges on your stomach, he puts his hand there and presses it, finds his dick moving under his palm. “if know your cunt gonna be this good I'm gonna fuck you sooner than wasting my time on fucking my fist.” pleasant clouded your sense and you can't think of anything other than the pleasure sukuna gave you. your eyes looking at him with temptation glint, half closed, crimson cheeks, tits bounce and with black wings on your back, looking like an angle, a slutty one. there's no better sight than this for sukuna.

“ ’s good, kuna, fuck— me, ahh..”

loud music from the outside but both of you could hear your moan, whimpering and the sound of your skin slapping each other. you yelp in surprise when sukuna suddenly flips your body— making him face your back, putting you in doggy style. he pulls you by feet making you stand while the rest of your body is still on the bed. again he rolls his hips back to your cunt, bottomed out. in your current position, you can feel all of his dick inside you. “oh fuck! too much, kuna, i can't—” you try to pull yourself away only for sukuna to tuft your hair, jacking your head back. he uses his other hand to grip your throat, and squeeze it gently. he pulls you closer until your back is a few centimetres away from his chest.

“shh baby, I know, i know,” he whispered in your ear. hot breath kissing your neck and start thrusting into your cunt. he let your hair go to cover your mouth as the choked sob leaves from between your lips. “so good for me, baby, taking me so well, squeeze me y/n— fuck, yes, like that.. ah! good girl, oh fuck. my dick is better than yu ji, right? tell me baby.” a moan and wail and grunt soon fill the room, again. a spank kiss your ass as sukuna demand an answer from you, “yes, ’s good, feels so good inside me, better than yuji— ah, fuck,” you let out a cry leaving sukuna satisfied. you can no longer feel the pain but pleasure. sukuna's dick keeps on bullying into your overstimulated cunt. you no longer thinking about yuji while the boy is outside of the room— looking for you.

the door to the sukuna bedroom swings open, revealing yuji standing there. sukuna gave him a sly grin as he kept on pounding at you but you didn't realize, too deep into the pleasure that sukuna gave you. yuji closed the door and locked it before he found his way to in front of you, on the bed. you open your eyes as you feel something touching your lips only for you to meet with naked yuji, on his knees in front of you with his dick in your mouth. his usually bright brown eyes now looking dark, clouded with lust and desire. “sucks, y/n.” he commands you. without waiting for you, he fuck his way into your throat, choking you. a loud relief moan leaves his lips. “ah fuck!”

he pulls your hair, “you're so mean leaving me out there while you were here, getting fucked by my brother. I didn't know my best friend is a dirty little whore. how about you take us at the same time, princess? since you're so fucking hungry for dick and my dick wasn't enough for you,” he ramble. who knows someone as sweet as yuji has a dirty mouth. sukuna on the other hand enjoys the sight of you sucking his brother.

and by the heart you know you're gonna have a long night in front of you. and you don't think the two brothers gonna go easy on you either. let's just say you have the best night you could ever imagine.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #yuji itadori x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #yuji itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #toji fushiguro smut

2K notes · View notes