#Also this was written for the scene where Steve steps back in front of the window

[billyhargrovesupsidedownshadow]

~800 words of an unnecessarily angsty ER! Harringrove, including a courthouse, Neil Hargrove and literally suggestions of mundane bad things and canon-typical slurs happening

--------------

Billy looked out of the window of his car at the surprisingly beautifully sunlit courthouse, his car keys jingling slightly in his hand.

A warm comforting weight of the familiar hand appeared on his knee, stopping it from bouncing.

"You sure you want to go?" Steve asked quietly.

He had been doing everything quietly for the last three days, like a sound too loud or a gesture too brisk might break something, blow something up into tiny little glittering shards that nothing would ever put back together.

Billy knew what it was Steve was trying not to break by accident.

It was Billy. Steve thought he was fragile.

Billy gritted his teeth. Fuck it. Fuck Steve. He threw his keys at him.

"You can fucking sit here."

He jerked the door open, throwing himself out of the car and then slamming the door closed so hard, his poor baby shook. He almost winced in pain, but he couldn't afford to get distracted now.

He had to get into that courtroom, say what he needed to say, and get out. Drive away. Go to Indianapolis. To New York. To Florida.

All the way back to the fucking Cali fo God's sake.

He heard quick footsteps following him and felt his shoulders straighten just a bit.

He almost made it to the room when his eyes caught on something that felt like hitting a wall at full speed and almost threw him back a couple of steps.

His father's frosty eyes that he saw every morning in the mirror.

The eyes slid over him with unmasked disgust and contempt so familiar it sort of felt like home.

They darted to somewhere behind his back for a moment.

Billy couldn't hear the slur through the rush of blood in his ears. It was tossed his way like it was nothing, like it was a t-shirt he had forgotten in the living room and never picked up, like a newspaper thrown at the door in the morning. Brisk, businesslike and impersonal.

It felt like a brick falling from the sky right onto his head, like an accidentally hurled baseball bat ramming into his ribs full speed, like being thrown against a wall again, and again, and again until there was nothing left but a wet impression of a human on off-white paint.

Some part of him wondered how it could still feel like that. Shouldn't he have gotten desensitized? Why did it still hurt like cutting himself open?

He stepped back. And once more. Someone was saying something.

His eyes couldn't move away from the dark spot of danger of his father's figure on the bench next to the courtroom.

There was a blink in space and probably time.

He was staring at his car now through the courthouse's window.

The car that got him out of that house.

The car that could get him out of this building. This city. This state. This country, even.

"Hey," said a familiar voice.

He could vaguely see Steve behind himself in the reflection in the window. He looked around the corridor and then reached over to put his arm around Billy's shoulders, warm, heavy and so, so comforting.

Like a buddy would.

A buddy that didn't necessarily fuck you raw in your little ratty rented bedroom most nights and then sit there naked, eating greasy pizza right in your bed and laughing over your dumbest jokes.

His father's mouth forming the word flashed through his mind, blinding him momentarily, making him taste bile. He shrugged Steve's arm off.

Steve stepped back, looking like a kicked puppy.

The taste of bile got worse.

"You still don't have to go in. Hop said they have enough evidence. It's going to be fine without your testimony."

Billy looked at his car again.

The car that got him out of that house. But not her. And now she got hurt.

Because he didn't do the right thing when he had the chance.

Because he left her there thinking she would be safe since she wasn't his.

But Billy had to have known better. There was no safe in that house.

He should have said something earlier.

He knew that Steve was probably right. Max wasn't going back to Neil. Hopper said it was "highly unlikely", at least.

But "highly unlikely" wasn't one hundred percent.

But Billy could make it so. By doing the thing he couldn't do for him, by saying the thing he should have said ages ago.

He sniffed, shook his head and tried to straighten his shoulders.

"No, I'm going in there."

He turned around, meeting Steve's warm eyes full of support, and warmth, and worry, and love.

His back relaxed just enough for him to be able to move again.

To walk into that courtroom and face what he had to face.

He was going to survive.

Steve would make him, anyway.

[ilovewriting06]

Forbidden

A/N: This is by far the saddest thing I have ever written so proceed with caution. Also no hate towards Chin but I needed a semi bad guy and it couldn’t be Steve or Danny so I picked Chin. Again I have nothing against him.

I raise my hands as a cop points his gun at me. I blink away tears as I’m cuffed and read my rights and led to the police car. I take in a shaky breath as I rest my head back and feel a tear slip down my face. I can’t believe my own sister would frame me for murder.

You see I’m the daughter of the head of the Yakuza and my sister Michelle, found out my deepest secret and as punishment is framing me for murder, the murder of my fathers right hand man making me the new target of the Yakuza and a cop making me the prime target of all law enforcement on Oahu.

I wince in pain as I’m led down a hall and led into a dark room with a harsh grip on my arm. I’m thrown onto a cold metal chair and cuffed to it. The man I recognize as Chin tightens the cuffs until they dig into my wrists. He steps back, “Why did you kill them? Your fathers right hand man I understand, working your way up the ranks, but why the cop? What did he do?” Tears cloud my eyes and I shake my head, “I didn’t do it! I swear!” Chin grits his jaw, “We have evidence! We have your DNA on the scene, your finger prints on the shell casings found on both scenes!” I pull on the cuffs, “I was set up!” He walks closer to me and I flinch away before the door is flung open, “Chin!” He spins around to see Steve and Danny walking in the room. Steve motions to the door, “Give us a minute.” Chin nods and throws me one last glare before leaving the room.

When the door closes and it’s just Steve, Danny, and I Steve rushes to the chair and unlocks the cuffs. Danny stares wide eyed as I rub my wrists, “What the hell are you doing?” Steve spins around, “She didn’t do it.” Danny throws his hands in the air, “Oh and how do you know that? Can you read minds now?” Steve sighs and kneels in front of me, “I’m so sorry, I’m the reason they’re doing this.” He wipes the stray tear off my cheek and I shake my head, “Don’t. Don’t take the blame, we had no idea she knew and we never thought she would do this. Especially since she’s my sister.” I bite my lip to hold in a sob, “How could she do this to me? Her own sister. I protected her from HPD and from you and she framed me for two murders that put a target on my back. Even if we take care of one we still deal with the others.” He nods, “I know.” I gasp and stand up before pacing the floor, “No, no, no, they know about you! If dad finds out he’ll have you killed!” I wasn’t paying attention to where I was pacing and I run into Danny. He stiffens and grabs for his gun but he’s stopped be Steve grabbing his arm, “Do not pull a gun on her, ever.”

Danny looks between us bewildered, “How the hell do you know she’s innocent!? What makes you think shes trust worthy!?” I grab Steve’s hand as his nose flares and pull him back a little. He looks at me and I give a small nod before he turns back to Danny, “I know she’s innocent because she was with me.”

“Wh-what?”

Steve sighs and I speak up this time, “That’s why Michelle framed me for the murders. She found out I was seeing Steve somehow and turned on me. She’s never liked me since I was adopted as a baby and when she found this information she must have decided it was time to get rid of me for good. I had no idea she knew but the next thing I know I’m being told that I murdered two men and I was being arrested. But you have to believe me, I have no intention of hurting anybody, I never have. That is my fathers business and my sister took it on as hers as well, but I was the black sheep. I went through all the training but never had the heart or want to hurt anyone. That’s kind of how Steve and I started our relationship.”

“I’m sorry, relationship?” Steve and I nod and he shakes his head, “Nope don’t believe it, do you have proof?” Steve raises his hands, “Is my word not enough proof?” Danny shakes his head, “Hell no! Have you met her family she could have some like magic voodoo over you or somethin’.”

Steve sighed and reached for his phone but furrowed his brows when his pocket was empty. His head along with Dannys turned to me as I unlocked Steve’s phone, “What’s mine is yours is it not?” He chuckled before I swung the phone around to Danny, “There’s a whole album of us on there.” Danny’s eyebrows furrow as he flips from one photo to the next all of me and Steve or of just me. He hands Steve the phone and sighs, “How did this start?”

I look at Steve and then back at Danny, “Ten months ago I broke into Steve’s house but it wasn’t to hurt him, it was to help him without people finding out. I fed him information and about a month in we started dating, and here we are.”

Danny’s mouth dropped, “You’re why we took so many members of the Yakuza down.” Steve and I nod and Danny leans against the wall processing all of this new information. He straightens up and points between us, “Was she with you when both murders took place?” Steve looked at me and thought about it and nodded, “Yeah she was.” Steve and I looked at each other as it clicked before Danny looks at Steve, “Are you willing to take the stand and testify on her behalf?” Steve nods his head once in finality, “Absolutely.” I stiffen, “You can’t!” They look at me with furrowed brows and I cup Steve’s face, “If you testify the Yakuza will put a target on my back and yours. I won’t let you do it, I will not be the reason the man I love dies.”

He grabs my hands with a small smile, “I can take care of myself and you can’t stop me.” I sigh knowing he’s right before nodding in agreement, “But some things have to change.” Steve tilts his head to signal me to continue, “I can’t go back home so I’ll need a place to stay, preferably your house and second of all when your here I’m here, no ifs, ands, or buts.” He chuckles and kisses my cheek, “Deal.”

Steve takes my hand before leading my through the maze of halls and to an elevator with Danny trailing behind. When we get in the elevator I feel the tiredness seep in from all the running and stress I’ve put my body through. I lean my head on Steve’s shoulder and close my eyes as he pulls me closer to him. I groan and blink when the elevator dings and follow behind Steve and Danny to the room where everyone who hates me stand. When Chin looks up his eyes flare in anger and he comes towards me. I jump behind Steve who loops his arm back to keep my behind him before he yells, “Stand down!” Chin stops in his tracks as he takes in the scene before him, “What is she doing here!?”

Steve huffs out an angry breath and I rub his back to help him calm down, “She’s here because she’s innocent. She didn’t kill either of those two guys.”

Chin looks bewildered and angry, “Do you honestly believe that!? The evidence says one thing and it says that she was the one that pulled the trigger! What part of that don’t you understand!? She deserves to be in prison she deserves to DIE in prison! Maybe she should get a bullet put between her eyes like she did to Lt. Burns!”

Steve goes to walk forward towards Chin and I run in front of him and put my hands on his chest, “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Take a breath and think this through I’m okay, I’m not hurt, and I’m not offended. You have nothing to protect me from.” He takes another huff processing what I said and I grab his jaw and tilt his head down to meet mine, “Look at me,” he still doesn’t look at me and my voice gets a little more demanding, “Look at me.” His eyes snap to mine and his eyes are still lit in anger so I do the only thing I can think of I kiss him. I place my hands on his chest and smash my lips to his and he’s quick to kiss back and I smile when I feel his muscles relax under my fingertips. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer and I almost continue to deepen the kiss but I push myself away when I remember where we are. I glance in his eyes to see that they’ve softened and are no longer on fire. His hold on my isn’t as tight but it’s still present as I turn around to face everyone to see bewilderment in their eyes except for Danny who just looks intrigued and a little disgusted.

Steve looked right in Chin’s eyes, “Like I said she did not do it. And if you want proof I’m standing right in front of you, the nights the murders took place she was with me. That’s why I believe she didn’t do it.”

Chin and Kono looked flabbergasted and Danny spoke up, “It’s true, I saw pictures.” I snorted out a laugh and Steve continued, “I’m going to go to my office and call the prosecutor, and I expect everyone to be intact when I get back.” As he said the last part he glared right at Chin before placing a kiss on my temple and going in his office.

I watched as he sat at his desk and picked up the phone before turning around as I heard Kono, “Soooo, how did that happen? No offense but you’re not someone I would have expected him to get involved with.” I sigh and lean against the table and Danny barks out a laugh, “Oh you’re gonna love this!” I throw him a look and smile before turning to Kono, “I broke into his house….three times.” Chin huffed and sarcastically said, “Only three?” I bit my cheek and took a breath before forcing a smile, “Yes, after that I got a key.”

Danny’s head swiveled around and gasped, “You got a key!?” I nod and he places his hand over his heart with a pout, “I’m hurt, even I don’t get a key.” I laugh, “The only reason he gave me a key is because the last time I broke in I had been stabbed and shot….and bleeding out in his living room. You actually were there the next morning and he made some excuse to come upstairs so he could check my wounds and change the dressing.” His mouth falls open, “He lied to me!? Why didn’t he tell me!?” I smile and bump his shoulder, “He didn’t want to get you involved just yet,” I looked at everyone before adding, “any of you.”

I glance into Steve’s office to see him motion me in when our eyes meet. I look at everyone and smile, “I’ll be right back.”

Danny’s POV

I turn to Chin with raised eyebrows, “I hope you know that he will kill you if you say anything like that about Y/N again.” Kono nods in agreement, “Sorry cuz, but I have to agree with Danny on this one, they’re obviously in love and you have her to thank for you not being dead.” I nod, “True, he was very close to tackling you when she stopped him.” Kono looks at me and nods, “I know! I’ve never seen anyone dare to get in his way let alone talk him down from doing something stupid, she’s definitely special.” I nod in agreement and watch Chin roll his eyes, “She’s just using him, when push comes to shove she’ll ditch him when he needs her, there is no way a Yakuza member would risk their life for someone, let alone a cop.” I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t yell at him but Kono beats me to it, “Damn cuz, don’t you believe in true love? Seriously what’s your deal with her, she didn’t kill anyone and apparently she’s the reason we’ve taken so many Yakuza down?” Chin rolls his eyes before storming to his office. I turn around to see Steve glaring holes into the back of Chins head and Y/N squeezing his hand and whispering to him.

Y/N’s POV

When I step into Steve’s office I walk over to his desk before sitting on the edge of his desk right in front of his chair. He wheels himself to be in between my legs before resting his hands on my hips, “I talked to the prosecutor and he’s organizing for my testimony.” I smile and nod as I run my fingers through his hair, “You don’t have to do this. She’ll target you for getting me exonerated.” He pulls me closer and nods, “I know, but I want to. You don’t deserve to be in prison for something you didn’t do. That would be letting Michelle win.” I cup his face with a smile, “I love you.” He smiles his dazzling smile, “I love you too.”

We step out of the office right as Chin storms away and I squeeze Steve’s hand, “It’s okay baby, he just has to process everything.” He relaxes slightly and nods.

Three Days Later

I’ve been exonerated and made a temporary member of 5-0 to help take Michelle down. Chin still hates me and it’s becoming harder and harder to hold Steve back from doing something stupid. I look up when I hear the computer ding before yelling , “They found Michelle!”

Within minutes we’re speeding to the warehouse where HPD tracked Michelle and her guys to. When we get there we get suited up except for Chin because we were one best short before heading in. Kono is with Chin and I and Danny and Steve are together much to Steve’s chagrin.

I duck behind a skid of boxes as bullets rip through the air while yelling through the coms, “Steve! They’re on the south side!” I hear him confirm the location before heading this way.

I look to the side and see Michelle with a gun pointed at Chin and Chin can’t see her. I stand up and tackle Chin to the ground as Michelle pulls the trigger. I roll off of Chin and take off my vest and throw it at him as he lays wide eyed on the ground. I stand up as Michelle goes to grab Chin and tackle her.

She stumbles back at the force and the gun flies out of her hand. She shoves me off but I wrap my leg around the back of hers taking her down with me. My head flies backward as her foot collides with my chin. I groan before rolling over as she grabs my arm and twists it. I let out a small scream in pain as she stands taking me with her. I grit my teeth when I see the gun before swinging my head back and into her face. She groans and lets me go and I dice for the gun. I look up when I hear Steve and Danny come running in. Michelle uses the distraction as an advantage and dives on top of me to grab the gun. I struggle with Michelle and roll around as she pins me to the ground. I let out a growl before kneeing her in the gut and grabbing the gun but before I can shoot her she grabs my arm pulling it in between us as she tries to wrestle it out of my hand. I hear Kono yell that she has a shot and two gunshots ring out at the same time. I sigh out of relief as Michelle falls off of me before I look down to see red quickly staining my grey shirt.

I feel my body quiver and watch as Steve runs over and kneels beside my head pulling me into his lap as he puts pressure on the wound. I grab his hand and look up at him with a smile, “It’s a okay, it doesn’t hurt.” The last thing I hear is a shout of my name as the world around me goes black.

Steve’s POV

When Danny and I run into the room I see Michelle and Y/N rolling around on the ground and Kono helping Chin stand. My face pales as I notice Chin has Y/N’s vest. I run over and push him against the boxes, “Why the hell do you have her vest!?” He chokes out that she gave it to him and I release him as Kono nods that is indeed what happened.

I turn around and watch as Y/N dives for the gun and try and get a shot. I grit my jaw when I can’t get one until Kono yells that she has one. Kono pulls the trigger but I furrow my brows as two gunshots are heard. I look over to see Michelle fall to the ground and my heart stops as I see the blood pooling around Y/N.

I run over and kneel beside her as I put pressure on the wound. She grabs my hand and tells me it doesn’t hurt and tears cloud my vision because I know what that means. Her head rolls to the side as she loses consciousness. Everything after that was a blur, the ambulance, the paramedic’s, the doctors and nurses, the grim faces of everyone in the waiting room with me.

I snap back to reality as I feel someone place a hand on my shoulder. I look over to see Danny with a frown on his face, “Steve.” I look at him and he continues, “The nurse said that the doctor will be here in a minute.”

I clear my throat and nod before standing up as a doctor walks in, “Who is the next of kin?” I rub my hands together, “I guess that’s me?” He nods, “What is your relation to the patient?” I look around before looking back at him, “I, umm, I’m her boyfriend. She doesn’t have any other family.” He nods before gesturing over to the corner away from people. I follow him over and feel my heart in my throat at his words, “She survives the surgery, barely, she died on the table twice but we were able to revive her. She lost a lot of blood, she has head trauma, four broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and a hairline fracture to her forearm. She’s in a medically induced coma in hopes it will give her body time to heal. The next few days will be touch and go,” he stops a second and takes in a breath, “I do have to tell you that the survival rate for someone in her condition, there’s an 87% fatality rate. And the next 72 hours will be the most critical after that the fatality rate drops down to around 42%.”

I lean against the wall as tears swim in my eyes and nod before choking out a thank you. When he leaves the room I stay in my position a little longer as I feel everyone’s eyes on me. I take a breath before leaving the room and heading to the vending machines.

Danny’s POV

Ever since we got to the hospital Steve has been in a daze and when the doctor came in I could tell the news wasn’t good from his face. I watched as Steve’s body slumped against the wall and he fought back tears before leaving the waiting room. I looked at everyone to see concerned faces on everyone’s face, even Chin’s.

I sigh and stand up to go find Steve. I find him standing in the hall staring blankly at the vending machines. I place my hand on his shoulder and he glances at me and I see everything I need to in his eyes, she’s dying, and now it’s just a waiting game.

“Steve. What did he say?”

He swallowed hard before wiping his eyes, “She has an 87% chance of fatality for the next 72 hours and if she lives past that the fatality rates drops down to 42%. They have her in a medically induced coma in hopes that her body can recover.”

I watch as he slides down the wall as tears flow down his face. I sit beside him and we sit in silence taking comfort in each other’s presence before Steve speaks up, “When she broke into my house, I knew. I knew she was going to change my life forever but I didn’t know how. I guess I know now.”

I lean my head against the wall before asking, “If you could, would you change anything?” I felt him sigh, “No, the last few months have been the best of my life. And if she does, if she does die she’ll have supplied me with some of the best memories.”

Time Skip

I sigh as I walk through the graveyard seeing Steve standing over her grave as the rain pours down. I choke back some of my own tears. She survived in the coma for two days but in the end her body couldn’t survive the fight. Steve was there when she stopped breathing and he was there when they pronounced her dead. He hasn’t been the same since and it’s been two months since that day.

I stand by his side, “Steve, it’s been two months, maybe you should come back to work, it hasn’t been the same since you took leave.” He doesn’t take his eyes off of her gravestone and his tears mix with the rain, “If was doomed from the start.” I furrow my eyebrows and look at him, “What?”

“Me and her. It’s was forbidden by even god himself.”

I rest my hand on his shoulder as I look at her gravestone, “Sometimes the forbidden things are the sweetest things.”

Tag List:

@djs8891

[ackermanbitch]

Teenage Dirtbag (Peter Parker X Reader) Part Five

a/n: lets just act like i havent fucked up the plot multiple times bc civil war is confusing also ive changed this chapter like twice now

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

warnings: cussing, steve like very briefly manipulating reader for his cause, vague and badly written action scenes

word count: 2.7k

"Why do I need to know all this Steve? Natasha and dad were pretty clear about keeping me in the dark." She whispered, sitting on a step in the stairway. Everything was so much more complicated than (Y/N) thought. She was now stuck in the compound with Wanda and Vision, feeling a sudden weight on her shoulders, too much weight for someone her age.

A few days after her afternoon with Ned and Peter, Happy told (Y/N) she needed to head to the compound for reasons he couldn't explain. Of course, she agreed without a second thought, not thinking it was a big deal.

It was a big deal. An enormous deal.

Steve was a criminal, and her dad was after him. She hated herself for it, but she was definitely on Cap's side. His pitch made more sense to her than her dad's. The Avengers just can't do what they need to if they're held back by a list of rules. She also tried to look at the entire situation like the trolley problem.

There were lives lost in New York, Washington DC and Sokovia but taking down the villains undoubtedly prevented more lives from being lost.

Steve, Bucky and Sam had a mildly stable plan at the moment to meet (Y/N), Wanda, Clint and some guy named Scott at an airport in Germany where the quinjet was being held.

"Because I need you on my side, (Y/N). Maybe your dad will listen if his own daughter is the one talking." Steve explained, his tone sounding slightly frustrated.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, gripping the phone in her hand tighter as she spoke. "If I'm talking? I'll only help if I don't actually have to talk to him until this whole thing is solved. He will actually blast you to pieces if he finds out you're the one who told me."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures (Y/N). Trust me, I never wanted you involved in this, but I know you can help, whether or not Tony even knows you're with us."

"What if he like- never speaks to me again? And what if you lose this whole thing and go to prison Cap? What happens to me, hm? I feel like you just haven't thought this th-" The sound of a faraway explosion interrupted her, making her stand up and jog up the stairs to the kitchen where Vision and Wanda were.

She hung up on Steve, shoving her phone in her pocket with one hand and pushing open the door with her other one, "Wanda? Did you guys hea-" She paused, seeing Clint try to fight Vision with his fists.

(Y/N) felt like her legs were stuck in cement as she watched Vision hold Clint in a chokehold, seemingly winning the fight until Wanda fought against Vision, sending him flying through a few floors and then deeper into the earth.

Clint sighed in relief, running up to the teen and taking her hand. "C'mon kiddo, not long before he gets back up."

-----

"Is this kidnapping? I feel like this is kidnapping." (Y/N) asked, sitting in the front row of the van, leaning forward to talk to Clint.

"Unfortunately, yeah, we kidnapped you. But we're not taking you against your will or anything. And just because Steve wanted you here, doesn't mean I agree with it." He mumbled the last sentence, pulling into a parking spot.

He pulled open the side door after hopping out of the front seat, "Now, what are you do-"

"Watching, listening and running." She mumbled, pulling her backpack out of the van and throwing it over her shoulder. "God, that was a brutal trip, this Scott dude snores like crazy. Funny guy though, you should see his magic tricks." She giggled lightly, stretching while 'the Scott dude' introduced himself to Steve.

"They tell you what we're up against?" Cap asked, crossing his arms.

"Something about some psycho-assassins?"

Steve nodded, "We're outside the law on this one."

"Insane understatement..." (Y/N) scoffed.

"One question, does she have superpowers I don't know about? I mean, I have no problem with her being here or anything I just don't know why someone would bring a teenager to something like this." Scott asked, gesturing to her with a nod of his head.

"Distraction. Just in case." She deadpanned, still stretching.

(Y/N) sat on the roof of the parking garage, a pair of binoculars in her hands. She had a bottle of water in her lap and her backpack sat next to her, it was a nice setup.

Things started out tame as Steve walked out into the open, Tony and Rhodey landing in front of him. She could somewhat hear what they were discussing, the echoing making it easier to hear even from her distance.

Tony suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling a code name (Y/N) definitely did not recognize.

"Underoos!"

She saw him swinging through the air before Cap did. What looked like insanely enlarged spider webs stuck to Steve's shield, ripping it from his grasp like it was nothing.

She looked through her binoculars, her eyebrows furrowing. Who the hell was this guy? Have I seen that suit before? Why is he making small talk at a fucking battle?

"Cap-Captain. Big fan, I'm Spider-Man."

His voice cracked a lot.

(Y/N) lowered her binoculars, gasping. She didn't even listen to her dad's ranting, squinting at the stranger in the red suit.

When she did focus back in on the present, things had escalated a lot more quickly than she expected.

"Great, alright there's two on the parking deck, one of them's Maximoff, I'm gonna grab her." Tony reported.

"Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes and.. Someone else is on the roof of the parking deck Tony- Jesus, it's (Y/N)." Rhodey gasped, focusing in on the girl to see her grabbing her backpack.

Tony paused mid-air, whipping his head around to look for her but she had disappeared just as quickly as Rhodey had pointed her out.

"Fuck, that was quick." She cussed under her breath, sliding down the roof and hopping off to land on someone's car, climbing off a lot more carefully than her last jump. She took off through the lot, making her way to the terminal. Tony was frozen in the air, trying to comprehend why and how the hell she was there.

"What should I do, Mister Stark?"

"Forget what we discussed, after her, now! She's headed for Barnes and Wilson!" He yelled through comms after a few seconds before going after Clint and Wanda again who had successfully gotten much farther than he wanted them.

"It's working (Y/N)." Clint confirmed, making the girl grin to herself.

The Spider-Man cleared his throat, "On it, sir!" He responded hesitantly, swinging to the windows of the building.

(Y/N) sprinted in the same direction as Bucky and Sam, her eyes focused on what was in front of her, not the stranger in spandex about to crash through the window.

She let out a scream as she was tackled to the floor, rolling a good twenty feet. The rub burn from the carpeted floor stung like fire but it was better than if he tackled her while she was on the tile. There were still a few pieces of glass from the broken window that cut her arm and face, not going unnoticed by the masked man.

When they stopped, the stranger sat on top of (Y/N), "He-" He quickly switched to a... Really terrible Queens accent? "Hey, I uh don't wanna hurt you or an-"

He was suddenly cut off, (Y/N) punching him square in the jaw with all her strength but it wasn't the flesh of her knuckles that hit his face, it was- metal? When did she put on the glove of what looked like Iron Man's suit? He didn't really care what it was, it hurt like a bitch.

While she was running, she had pressed some buttons on her watch, displayed on a holographic screen, letting red and gold metal encase part of her wrist, all of her palm and her knuckles, leaving her thumb and fingers bare. Tony gave it to her for self-defense when she turned fifteen, matching the one he wore himself.

"Ew, get off!" She screamed, "Stop freaking out!" He screamed back, webbing her more dangerous hand to the floor. She gasped in disgust, immediately shooting a repulsor through the substance and barely missing the masked man's face.

"You are so lucky that didn't hit you, you creep!"

"Creep?! I-I'm just trying to do my job, lady!"

"While straddling me?! Sure!"

"Straddling you?!"

"He's what?!"

Both Sam and Bucky yelled through comms at the same time, promptly turning around, Sam taking flight and Bucky sprinting back in the direction they came.

"I didn't mean t-" Spider-man was cut off again, Sam quite literally swooping in and picking- no ripping him off of (Y/N), throwing him in the opposite direction of her. "Creep." Sam mumbled, landing and putting his fists up.

"Thank you!" (Y/N) scrambled to her feet, taking off once again with a huff, "Ugh, why don't I work out, this is terrible!" She groaned but continued running as fast as possible anyway.

"We can only give you about two minutes, you better run like hell." Bucky's voice came over comms, and if she could run any faster, she definitely would. "Got it." She responded quickly, sliding down the middle of the escalator and hopping off at the end, losing her footing for a split second.

"Shit, this is terrifying." She mumbled out of breath, practically crashing through the doors that led to the open space where all the chaos was taking place.

(Y/N) finally slowed down, leaning over to put her hands on her knees, wheezing slightly. When she looked back up, she saw a truck flying through the air before hitting the ground, lighting up on impact.

"(Y/N), quinjet, now." Steve interrupted her thoughts, her feet almost moving on their own again as she ran under and around different vehicles and storage compartments to stay out of Tony's sight. She caught up quickly, running close behind Wanda.

Everything was going to plan, that is until Vision completely cut them off, burning a deep line in front of them with the stone.

"Captain Rogers, I know you believe what you're doing is right but for the collective good..."

(Y/N) sighed defeatedly, her shoulders dropping.

"You must surrender now." Vision finished, Rhodey and Tony landing on the ground behind him. Soon, a guy in a really cool cat suit, Spider-Man and Natasha joined them in a lineup.

Wanda gently nudged (Y/N), making her look up and notice one of Cap's hands behind his back, signaling for (Y/N) to get the hell out of there. She slowly backed up as the rest of her team moved forward, waiting until her dad and Spider-Man, her biggest threats at the moment, to be distracted before she turned on her heel and ran.

She ducked behind some stacked crates that were pretty far from the commotion, pressing her back to one while she tried to catch her breath. All that running, and for what?

"I won't make it to the jet Steve." (Y/N) sighed, slumping against the wood.

"That's fine kid, you did great." That was the last thing she heard from him before everything went to shit.

She wasn't paying attention to whether or not Steve made it to the jet, slightly distracted by Scott becoming the size of an apartment building. She watched as Spider-Man swung around and around his legs, Tony and Rhodey hitting him in the face and finally him crashing to the ground. As he was falling, he smacked poor Spider-Man with his enormous hand, sending him hurdling towards none other than (Y/N).

She gasped, ducking as quickly as she could. He hit the crates right above her, landing on the ground with a less than graceful thud not so far from her.

The teen slowly stood up, some pieces of broken wood falling off of her as she did. She carefully made her way to his unmoving body, readying her repulsor again as he lifted up his hand to pull his mask up. He obviously didn't notice her, pulling off the red fabric so he could breathe a little better.

"Parker?!" (Y/N) shrieked, falling back on her ass and scooting backwards immediately.

Peter gasped and mimicked her movements, quickly pulling his mask back on.

Tony landed, stomping over to the two. He pointed a finger at Peter first, "You, you're done. Done. Get up and I'll call Aunt May. And you," He turned to (Y/N), "Are dead. Absolutely dead. I don't even know what I'm gonna say but we are having a long long talk after this."

She dropped her head in shame and Peter laid back on the concrete, still trying to catch his breath. She waited for Tony to be back in the air before getting up and slowly making her way to Peter.

"Spider-Man? Seriously?" She started, staring him down.

"Please don't tell Ned." He mumbled, sitting up and taking the mask off once more.

"Of course I won't, I'm not an asshole Parker just very... shocked. You're not exactly the super-hero type but uh fuck me for judging a book by it's cover I guess." (Y/N) said bluntly, offering her hand.

Peter stared at the hand hesitantly, looking back up at her.

She let out a quick 'oh' before smacking a small blue button on the metal around her wrist, watching it fold back up into a chunky but clearly expensive watch.

"That's what's shocking? You're the one helping the guys your own dad is fighting against." He shot back, now taking her hand and mostly pulling himself up with a little help from her.

"Yeah yeah, I'm a real supervillain, I know." She rolled her eyes, letting go of his hand once he was standing up straight. "By the way, I like this costume much better than the one I've seen on Youtube."

"Ah, this is all Mister Stark." He mumbled in an embarrassed tone, suddenly finding the ground extremely interesting.

"I know, saw it in his workshop. No idea who it was for, but I did help him with the design of the spider on the chest, the one he originally thought up was kind of tacky." She admitted, pointing at the black marking for emphasis.

"Oh, uh- thank you." He smiled, his cheeks tinted slightly red at the thought of wearing something that she worked on.

She waved a wand in dismissal, "Ah, it's nothing. Not like I made your web shooters or anything important."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at her statement. He dropped the conversation there, but he knew it wasn't 'nothing'. That spider represented him, it represented The Spider-Man. Maybe if he keeps the suit, people will soon see that little spider design as a sign of hope and rescue. Every time he looks at that spider from now on, he'll think of h-

"Are you okay? Did I punch you too hard?" (Y/N) questioned, not so gently grabbing Peter's face and moving it back and forth frantically.

Peter hadn't realized he'd stopped walking, turning bright red in embarrassment. "Oh-oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He apologized, watching (Y/N) sigh in relief and drop her hands. "I didn't even realize I stopped walking." He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, looked like you were having a little inner monologue moment there," She teased, "don't worry about it, my dad does it all the time." She finished with a smile, turning back around to keep walking.

a/n: lets pretend i knew that the quinjet was in an entirely different country when i was writing the last chapter 😔

taglist: @preciousbabypeter

[micamicster]

ok so the thing is that usually i update religiously like weekly on the DOT and this is the shortest thing ive ever written and its sooooo close to done but. Unfortunately i also have a major exam coming up in like. a week. and the two scenes that aren’t finished yet are important scenes so for the first time in my life i have no idea when i’ll be updating im really sorry.

But i did find a scene I wrote from Eddie’s perspective! (back when I was gonna give him a pov lmao) So you guys can have that! Set sometime between Atlanta sleepover and Indiana crisis.

It’s like being fifteen again, waking up every morning begging the universe for the chance to step in front of a train, throw himself on a grenade, play the perfect chord at the perfect moment. For something he can do with this awful feeling that gets louder and more demanding every time he draws breath.

“You picked up donuts?” Steve’s hair is that special morning type of fluffy, and his voice is fuzzy with sleep. “Thanks, man.”

He claps Eddie absent-mindedly on his shoulder as he passes by, and Eddie’s mind picks up the chorus exactly where he’d dropped it the day before, ‘look at me, look at me, look at—.’

Steve turns back around and speaks with his mouth full. “These are fucking fantastic. You gunning for my job, Munson?” There’s powdered sugar on his collar, and his eyes crinkle when he smiles. It’s fucking awful.

“Only endeavoring to earn my seat on that bus,” says Eddie lightly. Steve hasn’t looked away. When the kids come bouncing into the room chanting some made-up song about breakfast, Steve’s eyes still linger, just a missed beat before he wades into the donut arguments that are bursting into being around him. And Eddie doesn’t read into it at all, because the only thing worse than this would be letting himself hope.

Having a pathetic crush on a straight guy whose reciprocal emotional investment in you is equivalent to what most people feel for a hangnail? That’s one thing. Having a pathetic belief that it might work out for you is another. Optimism’s not Eddie’s preferred brand of pathetic.

But it’s like he can’t stop. It’s like he woke up one morning and his body had decided that the best way to deal with this is to compulsively flirt with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington at every possible opportunity. Maybe being around so many fifteen-year-olds has catapulted him backwards to a time where he was scrawnier and hungrier and desperate and always, always, punching above his weight.

[toburnup]

1, 4, 7, 9, 15, and 18 for the fic writer ask game!! 💕✨️

mack 🥰🥰

What is your most popular fic?

making me wander on over to the stats page 😭 in terms of hits, ink you up just passed 18k (always funny to see the discrepancy on public/private bookmarks on smut-heavy fics lmaoo 💀). and kudos is subtext (something i can't quite put my fingers on) with like. 2300+ kudos. AHHHHH. that warms my heart because it's my robin POV fic.

4. Do you prefer writing multi-chapter or oneshot fanfictions?

oneshots, always. with chapter fics, i have the fear that i'll write myself into a hole that i won't be able to get out. and the narrative structure of chaptered fics (with small conflicts or chapter-specific arcs) is really tough for me. series are a nice in-between though

7. What’s a troupe you love to write?

wait is this like. troupe like a group of people?? or trope? 😭 i'm going with trope and it's thought-to-be-unrequited-but-its-actually-requited love. always and forever.

9. What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

OOOH so many (i'm not afraid to say it!!) but eddie being reckless and keying steve's car in we're bending and we're breaking.

He heads down the front steps, doesn’t look back up at the second floor windows, and turns onto the street. Thumbs at his keys in his pocket, feels the jagged edges. His eyes quickly find Steve's shiny car parked half a block up. The hazy memory refocuses and he sees Steve pressing him up against it, can feel his hands. Can hear the squeak the passenger door made when he opened it after Steve left the car, coming to his side with a sureness in his eyes that he hasn't seen since. 

He only stops for a moment to glance around, see if anyone's lingering nearby. The street is quiet now that the front door is closed, music distant. He slowly touches the shiny paint, right where Steve's hand had been when he'd given him a small smile and said goodbye.

Then he keys the fuck out of it.

like come ON, jilted eddie would absolutely fuck your shit up and i love that for him.

15. Are there words, phrases, mannerisms or scenes you tend to use a lot?

yes. half/broken sentences in dialogue and prose, always. my sentence structure was very much hated by my uni writing profs so i go ALL OUT when writing fanfic and add periods and commas like it's no one's business. that's how i talk IRL! fuck them!!

i like scenes that are casually intimate. walking in a quiet secluded place, driving together, waking up in bed. the classics. i'm also bad at writing group scenes so i'm always separating everyone.

mannerisms - not being able to make eye contact when speaking from a vulnerable spot. because that's me. also feeling on the brink of tears but not actually crying because also me.

18. Recommend someone else fic! (And tag them if they have a tumblr!)

ALSDKJALKSJDLA ok i'm shit at giving recs because i don't read many steddie fics (i'm paranoid about accidentally stealing someones idea) so i only have like. 5 bookmarks lmaoo.

pretty sure everyone and their cat has read it by now but you're the driver, you're the road by @stereobone is fucking fun. on my marked for later list, i have scratch, kick, let gravity win by @kostaskostaskostas and IDFC mack, i'll rec your fic i want to hold your hand because that's my #1 anyway

💌 fanfic writer ask game 💌

[noctumbra]

𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞

summary ─ you were hypnotized. his handsome face was contorted with such emotions, he was so lost in the music, lost in the instrument, and it was mesmerizing to watch.

pairing ─ rockstar!bucky barnes x virgin!reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, language, dirty talk, pet names, fluff, so much fluff, bucky is an adorable dumbass, softdom!bucky, kissing, first date, natasha romanoff is a very good bro, drinking, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), virginity loss, light fingering

a/n ─ this happened because of seb. hope you like it. please leave a comment if you do, i really worked hard on this one! thank you <333 (this is worst banner i’ve ever made btw pls ignore it) [enjoy this 9.2k monster. this is officially the longest one shot i have ever written]

title is from def leppard - pour some sugar on me.

The lead guitarist had been eyeing you since the concert started. You were lucky enough to buy yourself a front row ticket, but you didn’t know you were that lucky to get the attention of the lead guitarist, James.

Commandos were your favorite metal band. Their music made everything better for you after you discovered them, and following the band for three years, you finally got to see them live. You were very excited while you made your way over the stadium where the concert was going to happen. Your friend, Natasha, accompanied you to the concert because she liked them, too, and even she could tell that James’ eyes were on you.

“Is he looking at you?” She hissed into your ear. You shivered with the excitement. You were bobbing your head to the beat, feeling every drag of James’ skilled fingers over the guitar strings deep in your bones. “Y/N, what the fuck, is he?”

“I don’t know,” you hissed at Natasha back. You didn’t want to get excited over something that was very unlikely to happen and just wanted to focus on the moment. “Let’s enjoy the concert, please?” Natasha frowned a little, but she nodded, both of you turned your heads towards the stage again.

You watched James getting lost in the song. His fingers were flying over the guitar; stroking the strings, hitting the notes and feeling every note he hit in his soul. It was so obvious that he loved doing this. It was written all over his face. You were hypnotized. His handsome face was contorted with such emotions, he was so lost in the music, lost in the instrument, and it was mesmerizing to watch.

Honestly, you didn’t understand how fast three hours passed until they announced that this was their last song and that they would be missing touring. You felt tears filling your eyes slowly. You loved them, valued their art and found yourself in their songs so much, it was hard to say goodbye to them now that you’ve seen them live.

“We’ll be back before you know it!” James said, sending the crowd a wink and making his bandmates and the audience chuckle. They waved and walked towards the exit, and with that the stage lights went off.

“This was a ride!” Natasha exclaimed. You nodded eagerly.

“It was better than I expected!” You were still shouting because your ears were howling. “I never wanted it to end!” Natasha pointed herself, meaning that she didn’t either. You held her hand, never letting go, because you didn’t want to lose her in the crowd. Both of you slowly made your way to the exit. Just as you stepped into the small corridor to get closer to the exit, you were stopped by a bodyguard.

“Miss,” the guy said, raising his hands in the air. “You were invited to the backstage with your friend, Miss.” You turned to your right to look at Natasha owlishly who was looking at you right back with the same expression.

“Us?” You asked. “Are you sure?” The guy nodded. You looked at Natasha again, hoping that she’d answer for you.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll come.” The guy smiled, stepping aside, he showed you the way to the backstage. You thanked him. Tightening your hand on Natasha’s, you walked towards the entrance.

“What the fuck,” you hissed. Natasha just smirked and shrugged.

“He was looking at you,” she said instead. “He just proved it.” You gave her a disbelieving look, pinching her arm at the same time. Natasha chuckled. “James the guitarist has a crush on you,” she murmured. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes. Yes, it did sound good, but accepting their offer to get into the backstage? When it was passed midnight? God, you hoped you wouldn’t be fucked up tomorrow.

You slowly made your way inside, the bodyguard right behind you both to show you the way. All the guards you passed had smiled at you warmly. They were kind, hell, maybe even friendly, but you weren’t here to find out that. You were invited. Fuck.

“Walk straight, the main room will be on your right after you passed the number seven,” the bodyguard said, pointing at the number. Natasha and you thanked him. The guy just smiled at you both and bid you good night. After he disappeared, you took a deep breath and walked to the number seven that was winking at you at the end of the hall.

“Are you excited?” Natasha asked, sounding perfectly calm.

“Of course, Nat!” You hissed. “You said he was looking at me, and now, we’re invited to the backstage, and you’re asking me if I’m excited? Fuck yes, I am!” She grinned. Looping her arm to yours, she pushed you to walk a little faster.

“Maybe you’ll have sex with him tonight,” she said cheerfully. You whimpered. You wouldn’t dare. Would you? Who were you kidding, you would. “Maybe he asked you to come to him because it’d be a chaos for him to come up to you.” You huffed out a breath. She was right. You couldn’t even imagine the crowd that would be gathering around you if he were to come up to you.

“Yeah,” you murmured. Natasha pulled you towards the door on your right, and you realized you were about to pass the number seven. You stopped. “Nat,” you whispered. She squeezed your arm.

“It’s fine,” she said gently. “We’ll walk out if you don’t want to do anything with them. We could just say hi and bail.” You looked at her green eyes for a couple seconds, biting your lip. “It’ll be alright. Maybe, we’ll have some real fun. Come on.” You nodded. You weren’t going to back out. You weren’t going to miss this chance.

“Okay,” you said and continued to walk.

It took you half a minute to reach the door.

Tentatively, you stepped inside the huge room. It had three, different color, big couches, and one wall was covered with mirrors and make-up tables. The lights were yellow and dimmed; they weren’t hurting your eyes. There were a couple plants at the corners of the room. There was some chatter going on, chuckles and laughter were echoing from one wall to the other.

“Um,” you started. “Hello?” As soon as the word left your mouth, the chatter died. You tried not to cringe and get awkward with the silence. “W-we were invited?” You saw Steve’s, the vocalist, eyes widening and brows rising.

“Oh!” He said. “Bucky!” He called out, inclining his head backwards. “Your visitors are here!” You frowned. You didn’t know any ‘Bucky’, but when you couldn’t see James around, you assumed it was him. “Why don’t you girls sit down? He’s probably battling with his make-up.” He grinned.

“Sure,” Natasha agreed easily and pulled you to the couch with her. “Is he the only one who wears make-up?” She asked. Sometimes you were jealous of her making-small-talk ability, and right now was one of those moments. Steve chuckled.

“Sammy here also likes to indulge himself with some mascara,” he said. “Hell, I even saw him rockin’ white eyeliner once. It was dope.” You smiled. White eyeliner would look great on Sam, the bassist, you thought. “Thor likes mascara like Sam. Clint has his own make up with all the bandages he puts on his face,” Steve snickered when Clint protested. Natasha and you chuckled.

You looked around the room, at the people, and saw how tired but happy they were. Thor, co-guitarist, was sitting on a large armchair with his phone in his hands. Clint, the drummer, was sprawled on an empty couch with his drumsticks in his hands, spinning them aimlessly. Steve was humming, Sam was tapping his foot to some imaginary beat, and you could hear someone, probably Bucky, swearing in one of the dressing rooms.

“I swear to fucking God if Sharon fucks with my bag ever again─” Bucky stormed out of the room with anger etched on his face but cut himself off when he saw you and Natasha sitting in front of Steve. “Oh. Hello, girls.” He smiled warmly. You wiggled your fingers and saw Natasha smiling at him. “I hope they weren’t being assholes as usual,” he added, narrowing his eyes at his bandmates. Steve and Sam flipped him off simultaneously while Thor and Clint didn’t acknowledge him.

“They were nice,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks burning along with your body. Bucky smiled at you widely, making your stomach flip. He was so handsome, looked so pretty smiling like that, you sort of couldn’t believe you were sitting in front of him right now.  

“As much as this is nice,” Natasha started. Her green eyes were narrowed, and she looked a little terrifying. “Did you invite us here just to have a small talk or…?” You saw Bucky blush, Steve smirking, Sam elbowing Steve, and Thor wiggling eyebrows at Bucky. You frowned. Something was going on for sure, but you didn’t feel alarmed yet.

“Um,” Bucky murmured. “Well, I was going to come up to you but didn’t wanna make a scene. I was just wondering if you’d like to accompany us to the bar? We’re gonna celebrate our last day, and I thought maybe you would like to… hang out… with us?” Bucky looked shy and a little embarrassed, a scrunch was sitting on his nose adorably. Natasha raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Are you asking me or her?” She asked, making you choke on nothing.

“Natasha!”

“What? I know you wanna bone him, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to say no to that.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides they are gonna celebrate, Y/N,” she added, wiggling his brows, sending you a wink. You groaned. Covering your face with your hands, you whined.

“I’m gonna disown you from friendship when we go home, just so you know,” you mumbled, making everyone in the room laugh.

Bucky cleaned his throat with a light cough. “I was asking her,” he pointed at you, “but Sam here really liked you.” He placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, alarming the guy and making his eyes widen. “He told me so, and I thought he could ask you to hang out with us himself, y’know. I’m that kind of a wingman.” He winked at Sam.

“The fuck,” Sam grunted. You snickered with Steve. Natasha smirked, it was a dangerous, seductive smirk. Uh-oh, you thought gleefully. Natasha was going to seduce the hell out of Sam, and he wasn’t going to know what hit him.

“Brace yourself,” you said to Sam, causing him to frown and give you a questioning look. Before you could answer him, though, Natasha slid off from her spot on the couch next to you and perched herself on top of Sam. You heard him making a mix of choking and gasping noise, eyes comically wide, he looked at Natasha. Steve was trying to keep himself from laughing while Clint was recording the whole thing with his phone. Sam wasn’t going to live this moment down, you knew that for sure.

“She’s gonna ruin him for other women, isn’t she?” You heard someone ask you, and when you turned your head to your left, the spot Natasha was occupying, you saw Bucky. He was still smiling, looking friendly and non-threatening. He had his usual combo on: A black t-shirt and tight, black jeans. His sleeves were on display, you could see his tattoo neck, too, and the piercing on his eyebrow was shining with the lights around him. He still had eyeliner around his eyes albeit faint, but he didn’t seem like it bothered him.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “She has that effect on people generally.” Bucky snickered. He slowly sat down next to you but put some distance because he wasn’t an asshole like his friends loved to call him. “You, um, still have some…” You stammered, pointing at his eyes. Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes.

“I tried to wipe them, but they don’t come off for some reason. They might be waterproof? I need to scrub them, I guess,” he said. You nodded again. You hated these awkward moments because you just didn’t know what to do.

“You could try coconut oil, though,” you blurted. Bucky frowned lightly. “It, uh, it helps t-to remove the, um, waterproof eyeliner.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “I think I saw a small jar in one of the make-up bags. Will you help me?” You froze for a second. Of course, you would help him, but that would mean you were going to be close to him, right? You didn’t know if you could handle it─

“Yes, she will. She helped me with the same situation many times,” Natasha chimed in. “She’s gentle.” You side-eyed Natasha. You were so going to hit her with a pillow when you went back home. She saw you looking and blew you a kiss.

“Y-yeah, I did. I- I will,” you said. Taking a deep breath, you decided to just roll with it because you weren’t getting out of here anytime soon, apparently. “Come on.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the room he stormed out earlier. You ignored all the whoos and cheers although they made your cheeks and body burn. “Show me the jar?”

Bucky nodded mutely. Without letting your hand go, he moved to one of the desks that were against the wall with big mirrors and lights all around just like the other room, he pulled out a bag. “Should be in this,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Sit down.” You let his hand go, missing its roughness and warmth immediately, you opened the bag to dig the jar out. You grabbed a small piece of cotton, dripped some oil onto your hand and turned to Bucky. He was on your level, now, sitting down. “Close your eyes,” you whispered. He did. Inhaling slowly, you stepped closer to him and slowly applied the oil on his eyelids.

His skin was soft, you realized. He had lots of small moles on his face. Most of them were hidden with his long hair and light scruff, but they looked beautiful on him. His lips had a pretty bow shape, their natural color pink-ish red. You suddenly wanted to lean down and kiss him to see if they were as soft as they looked. Blinking, you pulled your hand away and brought the cotton to wipe it off. The oil helped, of course, and soon, the cotton was all black with the make-up.

“There you go,” you whispered, signaling that you were done. Bucky slowly opened his eyes. They were dark and mesmerizing; his pupils were large and almost swallowed the pretty color of his eyes, and you felt stuck. You saw him licking his lips with the corner of your eyes. His hands came up to your waist, one of them moving to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb stroked your cheek gently, so gently that you sighed and nuzzled against it without thinking. You heard him letting out a soft sound, and then his lips were onto yours.

Moaning in shock, you stood there, trying to process what was happening.

You were being kissed by James Barnes. The lead guitarist of Commandos. Your favorite band. You were being kissed by him. You pushed him away. Your hands still on his chest, you looked at him, the disbelief visible on your face.

Bucky cursed to himself silently. He should have known better than just kissing you like this, he should have taken you out first and let you that he was thinking of asking you out for real because he had been watching you throughout the whole concert, and you were so fucking pretty─

“What─ Why did you do that?” You asked him, interrupting his inner panicking. Bucky swallowed and looked at you, the color of his eyes had returned slightly.

“I─” He started, but realized he didn’t know what he could say. “Wanted to?” He cringed. God, he was hopeless. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I’m─ Look, I wasn’t trying to force myself on you, I swear. I’m really sorry.” He tried to stand up, but you stopped him with putting your hands on his shoulders.

“Why did you do that?” You asked again. Yeah, he might have wanted to kiss you, but you had to know exactly why. Bucky held his breath.

“Because I wanted to kiss you,” he said with a soft voice. “Because you looked so pretty singing along to the songs I wrote with your friend, looked so carefree and gorgeous, I wanted to know you, wanted to kiss you so bad. Because you felt right when you were close to me. Because I wanted to keep you even closer, so that no one would try to steal you away fro─ Mmfm!”

You cut him off with pressing your lips against his. Of course, you were attracted to him. He was this devilishly handsome, funny and charming lead guitarist of your favorite band. How could you not? Him admitting that he wanted to know you was dizzying, to kiss you so bad was definitely passing out material.

Bucky sighed into the kiss as he brought one of his hands to rest on the small of your back and the other on your face. Tilting his head to his side slightly, Bucky deepened the kiss. With the hand on your lower back, he pulled you to him, making you step into his personal space even more. You hummed. Your hands were on his cheeks, fingertips playing with his hair while your thumbs stroked his cheekbones.

He kissed so nicely.

His lips were as soft as they looked. They felt like silk onto yours as he kissed your breath away. His body heat was setting your own body fire. His hands on you were like a dream come true. The way he held you close to him felt so good, you wanted to cry at the feeling. You were a little touch starved, but he was feeding you well with his itty bitty touches.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he pulled back for oxygen. He opened his eyes, watching you nuzzle in his palm, kissing his wrist, Bucky felt immensely happy. “Darling love,” he whispered. “You feel so right in my arms.” You let out a broken sound as you buried your face in his palm, partially hiding in it. He chuckled softly. “You do.” You wiggled even closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

Just as both of you were getting lost in the kiss, the knock on the door made you jump. “We’re leaving for the bar!” It was Clint. “Are you guys coming or not?” Bucky looked at you.

“Let me take you out?” He asked, hope shining bright in his beautiful eyes. “Let me treat you? Please, honey?” You nodded mutely. You were too stunned to answer him verbally. He smiled. “Alright,” he said and stood up. He, then, took a step back and extended his hand to you. “I’m James, but people close to me call me Bucky.”

You chuckled at his cheesiness. Holding his hand, you shook it. “I’m Y/N, but Natasha calls me dumbass sometimes,” you said, making him grin. Bucky held your hand in his as he brought it up to his lips, kissing your wrist.

“Can I take you out on a date? Buy you a drink?” He asked, then. You bit your lip as you grinned.

“Yeah,” you answered him. He beamed.

“Great!” He pulled you against him. “I know just the place.”

──

You’ve been at the bar with the band and Natasha for two hours now. You were having so much fun that you couldn’t stop giggling or cracking jokes sometimes. You felt incredibly lucky to get to know the band this way; they were a bunch of charming and funny guys who occasionally called each other asshole.

Thor was a weird one; he kept talking like he was someone from a Shakespeare play but he was a very funny dude. Sam was a sarcastic but a very charming guy; him and Natasha had kept the flirting going since she sat on his lap at the backstage. Steve was actually a pretty smart guy, but he loved fucking with others and playing dumb. He was almost as flirtious as Sam, but he kept the flirting to Thor only which you later learned that Thor and Steve had been dating for two years. Clint was… he was a real dumbass. He was a beast with his drums, but in general he was a walking disaster and the bandages on his face and arms sort of gave that away.

They were a good bunch.

Then, there was James. Or Bucky as he reminded you to call him that once or twice. He was funny just like the others. He was charming and actually a sweetheart. You learned that he was also the Mama Bear of the band while Sam had taken the Papa Bear role. They were the ones who kept the others doing shit. He was considerate, lovable and smart guy. He loved his music, loved playing his guitar whenever he could and loved exploring new things.

You might have been a little in love with him already.

“Aight!” Steve interrupted the chattering. He was a little tipsy, not drunk, and leaning onto Thor more than he probably should. “Round… four? Five? It’s on me. Who wants what?” Everyone placed their order with Steve and Thor, but you.

“Just water if they have such a healthy drink in here,” you said, chuckling. “I had enough.” You weren’t big on drinking your consciousness away, and considering this was sort of your first date with Bucky, you wanted to stay sober.

Steve and Thor nodded, not pushing you to drink when you didn’t want to, and made a bee line to the bar. Bucky was holding you against his side, his arm was either over your shoulders or around your waist, and you were leaning into him. He placed a soft kiss onto your temple, making your body heat up with the simple touch of his lips. With a sigh, you buried your head into his shoulder.

It was sort of surprising that you felt so safe and at ease with Bucky although it’s been only three hours since you met officially. Sure, you’ve known him partially from the interviews, but you spent three hours in his presence, and the closeness between you two felt like you’ve been like this, close and touching each other, for years. It was a weird but not unwelcomed feeling. In fact, you loved it a little too much.

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered. His breath smelled a bit like beer, but you didn’t mind. Yours probably smelled the same. You nodded. “I can take you back home if you want or to a hotel? I… just realized I don’t know where you live.” You chuckled.

“I live around, don’t worry,” you assured him. “Like an hour or so away with car? I’m local.” You snuggled deeper into his embrace. “I’m fine, though, it’s been very fun so far.” Bucky hummed.

“Yeah, they are good guys,” Bucky agreed. “But say the word and I’ll take you home, alright?” He said, looking into your eyes.

“Okay,” you agreed, kissing his cheek. You have never felt like this with a guy before. Sure, you were a virgin, but you had boyfriends, you had dated. None of them made you feel this at ease around them. None of them but Bucky. You found that you loved this feeling. With a smile, you hummed happily.

After Steve and Thor returned with a new round of drinks, you’ve spent another hour and half laughing and talking with them. It was around 3 AM when all of you decided to call it a night.

“It’s technically morning, though,” Clint said, swaying on his feet a little. Everyone groaned. “Fine, geez. I ain’t makin’ any joke anymo’,” he grunted and flipped the bird. You snorted lightly. Clint got offended real easy when he was drunk, apparently.

“So, girls,” Sam started. “We can take you home if you want? Or put you in the same hotel we’re staying for tonight?” Natasha shrugged.

“It’d take us at least an hour to get home, I’ll take the hotel option,” she said, and you hummed approvingly. “We don’t need new rooms. I think it’s obvious where we’ll be staying,” she added with a smirk. You felt your cheeks burn.

“I’m so divorcing you when we go home,” you muttered, and Natasha snickered. You felt Bucky’s assuring squeeze on your arm.

“We can get you a new room if you don’t feel comfortable enough with sharing, though,” he said, ignoring Natasha. You frowned as you thought about it.

It wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but you didn’t know what you’d do. Would you just cuddle and go to sleep or… You sighed. You wanted to take that step. You were in your mid-twenties and you wanted to get rid of your virginity already. It stuck with you for a long time. You didn’t want to push him for it, though. Frown deepening, you realized you wouldn’t mind whatever you chose to do when you shared a room. Even though you wanted to get rid of things, you really would like to cuddle with Bucky and go to sleep.

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “I won’t mind sharing a room if that’s okay with you.” Bucky shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“Of course,” he said. “Let’s go then.”

─

It took you fifteen minutes or so arriving the hotel and all of you quickly scattered your own rooms. You followed Bucky. He was holding your hand into his gently, you in front of him, his arms were around your waist and hands holding yours as you rode the elevator. When you were on the floor nine, you got off and walked down the hall.

Stepping inside the room 107, you felt nervous. It wasn’t Bucky who was making you nervous, but yourself, you knew that. You could come clean and tell Bucky; he had been so patient and loving with you all day and you knew he wouldn’t mind you telling him about your conflict.

“I can take the couch,” Bucky started. “I don’t mind. It’s actually pretty comfy,” he grinned. “Took a nap there before we hit the stage.” He wiggled his brows adorably. “I can lend you some clothes if you wanna shower, I’m definitely taking one. I have no idea how you put up with my stink for four hours.” You chuckled.

“You don’t stink,” you said. “You smell nice, actually.” Bucky tilted his head to his side and sent you a cocky smirk. Fuck, you thought.

“Nice, hm?” He laughed, then. “I half-showered with my perfume is probably why,” he added, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, you gonna shower?” You bit your lip. You were hesitating just a little, but you knew you had to take some steps yourself in these kinds of things.

“W-what if we take o-one to-ogether?” You stammered clumsily. “We, uh, both need one, anyways, right?” Bucky froze. His eyes snapped at yours, watching you carefully as he tried to see if you really wanted this.

“You really want that?” He asked. You nodded. There was nothing else you wanted more at the moment, you thought. “Honey,” Bucky murmured. “Do you know what you want? Do you wanna tell me?” Ye walked closer to him and placed your hands on his chest when you were close enough.

“I want to take a shower with you,” you said, surprisingly with a steady voice. “I… We don’t have to, but if you want, I, um, also want to have sex with you, too.” Bucky exhaled shakily at your words. They were affecting him, you could see it in his eyes. So, you thought, might as well drop the bomb. “I, um,” you continued. Your fingers were playing his exposed dog tags. “I really, really would like you to be, um, the first one to… you know…” You narrowed your eyes, looking at him and hoping that he’d understand.

“The first one to what, love?” He asked. His eyes were intense, now. They looked at you like they wanted to see through you. You shivered and licked your lips. Your mouth opened and closed, words wanting to get out but didn’t know how. “Y/N,” Bucky said when you didn’t answer. “Honey,” he called out. “Are you a virgin, love?”

You nodded. Your whole body was burning with embarrassment, burning under the intense look of his beautiful eyes. You fidgeted in your place, tearing your eyes from his, you gave your whole attention to his dog tags. You played with them until you felt his fingers gripping your chin gently and tilting up.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “Do you really want me to do that?” You nodded again. Words were hard for you, at the moment, you were beyond embarrassed. “Sweetheart, I’m honored that you see me worthy.” You snorted.

“Dork,” you whispered. He grinned.

“That’s me,” he said, making you snort again. “Alright, let’s take a shower together.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathroom. He left you by the sink to undress while he adjusted the water. You were stripping off your clothes one by one, not feeling so confident about your body, you had a strong urge to hide it.

It was Bucky, though. You may not have known for a long time, but you knew he wouldn’t mind. Still, you couldn’t silence the irritating small voice in your mind that had been whispering how different you looked from all the women Bucky had seen out with.

“Water is ready,” he announced, unaware of your inner struggle. He turned around as he yanked his t-shirt off his body. “Y/N? Are you okay?” His eyes roamed your body, moving up and down and up again. “What is it? It’s fine if you don’t want to do this─”

“It’s not that,” you muttered. “Well, sort of about it, not that exactly.” You shrugged. Your tears were on their way to fill your eyes, you could feel them, but you weren’t going to cry. “It’s just… I don’t have a model’s body, like, um, all the other women you’ve dated? I don’t have it, and um, it just makes me feel a little self-conscious?” You watched Bucky’s face going from worried to soft in a matter of seconds.

“Baby,” he whispered, stepping forward and getting into your personal space. “I don’t care.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, stroked your cheek and looked deep into your eyes. “I don’t care that you don’t have a model’s body. I actually like your body better than theirs because yours tell me that you’re happy and not starving yourself to look the way they do. You’re beautiful.” You whimpered. “It’s alright if you wanna back up, it really is, but please do not think that I won’t find you attractive because you don’t have a body like theirs, okay?” You sniffed lightly as you nodded.

You slowly got rid your t-shirt, dropping it on the floor like he did with his, and reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. He looked into your eyes all the while you undressed yourself. His eyes never flickered down once. They kept looking into your eyes, and his thumbs kept stroking your cheeks and your neck. Once you got naked, you fought with the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and cover your bits. Bucky liked your body, you reminded yourself. You were beautiful to him.

“There you go,” Bucky whispered. “That’s a good baby.” He leaned in and pecked your lips. “Let’s get under the water, alright?” You nodded. He quickly rid himself from his remaining clothes. His tattooed and pierced body’s naked glory was right in front of you, and you wanted to leave some marks. You wanted people to know that he was yours, now, no one else’s. “Come on, love.” He nudged you into the shower gently, pulling you out of your head. You carefully stepped into the tub, the water hitting your back immediately, you shivered with the warm water. Bucky walked in behind you and closed the glass doors.

Bucky plastered his front to your back, gently encouraging you to lean against him. His arms wrapped around your middle, he dipped down and placed kisses on your neck. The steam coming from the warm water warming your body, making his kisses feels even more sensual. You shivered.

“Let’s get you wet,” he murmured, eyes shining with mischief. You let out a soft snort and rolled your eyes. He grinned. He turned you around and stepped under the water with you still leaning against his body. You could feel his well-defined muscles on your back. His bulging biceps around your waist was giving you a nice feeling, too. His already warm body was even warmer now thanks to the water.

You sighed.

Bucky grabbed the shampoo and washed your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. After you were clean, it was his turn. He had to crouch down, later he went down on his knees since it was easier for you to reach all of his hair easily. As you washed his hair, Bucky held onto you, face buried in your stomach, he breathed calmly as you massaged his scalp like he did to you. You could feel the tension draining out of him. He must be exhausted, you thought, and suddenly felt guilty about springing this whole I-want-to-have-sex-with-you conversation. He needed rest, not more action. You huffed to yourself silently. Telling him to stand up, you grabbed the second loofah and dragged it along his body, washing away the dirt and sweat of the concert.

Washing away the shampoos and last of the dirt on your body, you turned off the water and stepped out, Bucky right behind you and still holding onto your waist. He grabbed a big towel from one of the cabinets. It was white and looked so fluffy. He smiled when he saw your wide eyes and wrapped it around your body, squeezing you into a hug with towel around you, he held you against his chest. You chuckled. Your face was right into the crook of his neck; his warm body was radiating heat even with a towel between your bodies.

“It’s so fluffy,” you said, amusement in your voice. Bucky snickered.

“Yeah, that’s what I love about fancy hotels.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed another towel from the rack to dry himself. Both of you walked back into the bedroom again with your naked bodies covered with fluffy towels.

“Hey,” you called out softly. “We, um, don’t have to do it now,” you said. “I know you’re tired, and you need some rest. So, it’s totally okay if you─” Bucky placed a finger on your lips and silenced you.

“I want it,” he whispered. “I am tired, I’m not gonna lie, but I want to do this, too.” Amusement shone in his eyes. “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep on you in the halfway, though,” he said. You chuckled. Your hand poked out under the towel and hit him on the arm gently. Bucky grinned. He leaned in and kissed your cheeks; they felt warm under his lips.

Bucky started humming as his hands grabbed the hem of the towel that you’ve been hugging tightly. You frowned lightly, trying to make out what he was humming. While you were thinking, Bucky took the towel off of you gently. You barely felt the cold air hitting your body because of his body heat. It was coming off of him in waves and warming you in a weird way. He smiled as he pulled back a little. His face was so close to yours, his moving lips were brushing against yours as he continued to sing the song.

“Television lover, baby, go all night,” he sang softly. “Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet,” he continued and pressed a kiss on the corner of your lips, arms pulling your closer to his body. “Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah.”

You frowned lightly, face scrunched in a very adorable way. “What are you singing?” You asked, still trying to making out what song he was singing. Bucky grinned.

“Ooh, in the name of love,” he started and saw the light bulb going off. “Pour some sugar on me. C’mon, fire me up.” He swayed to right and left, making guitar sounds just to make you giggle. “Pour some sugar on me. I can’t get enough!” You laughed.

“Oh my God, Bucky!” you exclaimed, tears in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re singing─”

Bucky grinned even wider. “I’m hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet, yeah!”

Both of you cracked up. Bucky was still humming the song as he, too, discarded his towel. He came closer, looking into your eyes and searching for a ‘yes’ in there, which you gave him while still giggling. Bucky crouched lightly to grab you by your thighs and hoisted you up. You squeaked. Your arms were quick to wrap around his neck as he carried you to the bed.

“Crazy little woman in a one man show,” he continued to sing. “Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of lovee!” You snorted. “Sweet dreams, saccharine, loosen up.” He kissed your cheek. He lowered you on the bed, lying you down gently. You smiled at him. Bucky winked and leaned in.

His lips found yours with a sweet sigh escaping from you. Bucky hummed. His lips stroked yours gently, pried them open to deepen it with a small tilt of his head, and suddenly, you were kissing heatedly. You moaned when you felt his tongue licking at your bottom lip, his teeth nibbling on the soft flesh lightly. You opened your mouth, allowed his tongue inside and moaned again. Bucky grunted. He dropped his body onto yours, minding his weight, and caged you under him.

“Baby,” Bucky moaned when he pulled back for oxygen. His lips moving from yours to your neck, he hummed appreciatively. The light scruff he had was scratching the skin of your neck raw, but you didn’t mind. It felt so good, so nice to have his warm body onto yours like this and to feel his lips on your skin. Your body was on fire. Between your thighs, you were aching and dripping wet; the urge to press them together was strong, but Bucky was in the way.

“Bucky,” you sighed as he nipped on your collarbones. His breath was hot on your already heated skin. The rough texture of his hands drove your body into the edge of oversensitivity as they brushed and stroked every inch of skin they could reach. Bucky hummed appreciatively at the sight of your breasts on his face. His eyes flicked up at yours, silently asking for a permission. Heart beating in your mouth, you nodded. Every breath you drew in was burning you in the best way, making your head rush.

You gasped loudly when his hot and wet mouth closed over your nipple. His tongue was teasing the delicate nip gently; cheeks hollowing as he sucked on it, he slurped. One of his hands had closed over your other breast; the rough texture that drove you crazy was on your boob now, and his calloused fingers were playing with your nipple. Your arched your back. Your hands wound tight in his longish brown hair, pulling on them whenever he sucked too hard and twisted your nipple in a very good way.

“Oh, shit, Bucky!” Eyes closed, you threw your head back as you thrusted your chest against his face more. Bucky just grunted and switched nipples. His hand was now playing with your saliva covered nipple while his mouth had closed over your other breast. When you moaned high and very feminine, Bucky scrapped his teeth over the sensitive bud, making your hips buck against his unintentionally. “God, I─ This─ Shit, feels so good,” you sighed, breath hitching.

Bucky let go of your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’ sound and placed a kiss on your sternum. He kissed his way down, tongue dipping into your belly button and placing a kiss there, too. You tried not to squirm away when he finally made contact with your dripping core. His hot breath was licking your mound, making you hyperaware of his presence there and also making you even wetter.

Feeling how nervous you were, Bucky looked at you softly and kissed your inner thighs. You breathed in shakily. His lips were covering your inner thighs with kisses, hands stroking your sides and stomach, fingers occasionally finding your nipples, Bucky calmed you down. Soon, you were melting under his soft and loving touches as he made his way to your pussy slowly.

First flick of his tongue on your clit had you gasping, bucking your hips and grabbing onto his hands on your stomach. Bucky shushed you and placed a kiss on your clit, sucking it just a little.

“Oh my God! Bucky!” You moaned. He shushed you again with grounding strokes of his thumbs on the back of your hands. He dove in.

His tongue flicked on your clit over and over again, lips closed around the tiny bud and sucked little hickeys onto it. His scruff was rubbing on your inner thighs and making this whole new experience even better. You kept moaning, whining and whimpering; your hands never letting of his, you held onto them tight as you arched your back and buried your face into the pillow with your eyes closed.

You could feel your slick running down, dripping onto bed, because the sounds Bucky was making while eating you out were so hot, it made your thigh muscles twitch around his head. He was burying one groan after the other into your pussy, humming and grunting at the taste of your slick and your tight hold on his hands.

At one point, he pulled back. Freeing one of his hands out of your hold, Bucky swiped a finger from your slit to your clit. You cried out. The colors were exploding behind your closed eyes; your body was taut with the expected orgasm. Bucky swiped his fingers a few more times before he slowly dipped it inside you. An audible hitch in your breath, Bucky stopped. He pulled his finger back slightly only to push it back in.

“James,” you whined. You could feel the pressure gathering in your lower belly. “Please, God, please─” You groaned when he continued to move his fingers in you as he pressed his thumb over your clit. You were close. You were so close, you could fucking taste it. You whimpered. Your free hand found his body, and you grabbed the meaty shoulder, digging your nails deep. Bucky hummed and crooked his fingers.

You screamed when you came.

Your body went taut, muscles cramping, you felt them relaxing at the same time. It was a bit weird and amazing feeling which you loved. It wasn’t that you’ve never made yourself come, you have, but none of them felt like this.

“Your fucking face─” You heard Bucky growl lightly. He climbed his way up to your lips and kissed you passionately. “The way you look when you come? Gorgeous.” He kissed you harshly, nipping your bottom lip. “The way you taste? Magnificent. Pouring out some sugar for me, there, don’t you, baby?” You felt your cheeks burn at his words as he ducked in for yet another kiss which you gave him happily. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. He pulled back just a little and started kissing on your cheeks and neck. “You still wanna do it?” He asked. You nodded. “Speak up, bubba,” he nudged your jaw with his nose. You squirmed happily at the pet name.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Still wanna do it. Still wan’it to be you. Please?” You looked at him with wide eyes, face open and excited.

Bucky wanted to hide you in his bed forever because you were too good to be true. “Alright, love, okay,” he whispered. He reached for his wallet that he left on the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. Bucky was quick and efficient as he put on the condom, discarding its small package.

You gasped lightly when you saw his cock. It was a little above average, wasn’t too big that it might really hurt you. He was uncut, but you could see faint lines of veins throbbing there. There was a shining metal going through his cock head, but to avoid panicking, you diverted your eyes to his ball. They were big and looked full, and suddenly, you felt your body burning even more with the thought of them slapping against your skin.

“It’s might hurt at the beginning, okay?” He said, drawing your attention back to him. “Tell me, please, just tell me to stop if it hurts really bad or you just don’t wanna do this anymore, alright?” You nodded. He tapped on your lips. “Words, honey.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like it.” He nodded with a big smile on his face.

“That’s right,” he whispered and kissed you. Settling in deeper between your thighs, Bucky kept kissing you. One of his hands was on your face, gently stroking your cheek, while the other had grabbed his cock and lined it up.

The slide in was smooth, and Bucky was going real slow. He really didn’t want to hurt you, make this experience a bad one, so he was being extra careful. He could feel how your silky wet walls wrapping his cock slowly as he inched in, in and in. His eyes were rolling backwards behind his closed lids. It was addicting, the way you felt around him. Bucky never wanted to pull out, wanted to stay buried in you forever because you were so tight, so warm and so wet, it was like a dream come true.

“Sweetheart,” he croaked. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” Your breath hitched at his low voice calling you a sweet name. Between your thighs you were aching, hurting just a little it, too, but it wasn’t unbearable. You held onto him tight, reeled into the feeling of his cock sliding into you and just… felt.

You whimpered when his cock was fully seated. There was a throbbing pain, almost pulsating with the same beat as your heart. Bucky was panting in your ear. He wasn’t moving, was just holding you tight against him and trying to control himself until you gave him the go. You hummed a little as he pain subsided.

“You good, bubba?” He asked, lifting his head only a little to look you in the eye. You sniffed, tears had sprung to your eyes at the pain, but it was gone now. You nodded, hands tightening on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Move, please?” Bucky groaned. He gave you another kiss on the lips: A sweet, chaste and soft kiss. You sighed into it.

Carefully, he pulled out a bit and slid back in, stealing your breath. His breathing was shaky. You could hear his silent grunts and groans. His hands were fisting the bedding until you grabbed them and twined your fingers together. He kissed your neck as thanks. He continued to thrust into you slowly. Every drag of his cock, you could feel it in your bones, deep in your body, and it was so goddamn good.

“God,” you choked on a moan. “Fuck, faster, please─” Bucky growled.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. Sweat was beading on his forehead, chest and back, making his skin glow. You whimpered as you turned your head to him where he buried his face into the crook of your neck and kissed his temple.

“You won’t,” you said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, please!” You clenched your thighs around his hips, urging him to move a little faster. His growling increased; it sounded like he was almost snarling with each thrust of his hips.

“You want it hard, darlin’?” He asked, taunted. You whimpered again as you nodded. A wanton cry of ‘yes’ spilled out of your mouth. “You want me to fuck you faster, hm?” You let out another litany of yeses and tightened your hands in his. Bucky groaned deep and loud. His hips started to snap against yours. His balls hitting your slick covered skin, his cock started to move in and out of you at a rapid pace.

The pleasure it brought was fucking blinding.

You moaned when he gave you a particular hard thrust. You were moving up and down on the bed where you were lying on your back as Bucky thrusted in and out of you madly. You could feel the metal you saw through the condom stroking your sensitive walls, making the pleasure feel even better, and you knew you were going to come. You could feel how close you were.

“James,” you breathed, your face drowning in pleasure as he looked at you. “’m gonna come,” you whined. “’m so close, ‘m gonna come!” Bucky snarled.

Straightening up a bit, he leaned onto his elbows, still holding your hands. His thrusts were deeper now. He was hitting at a spot that got you choking on almost every moan that wanted to get out, stealing your breath with each thrust; you were delirious.

“Bucky,” you sighed. Your voice carried a panicking tone, but it was because you were so close to coming. “Bucky, fuck, I’m─”

“Come, honey,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “Come for me, c’mon.” He ducked down to bite one of your breasts, sucking and licking at the same time. You gasped. Your thighs and walls clenched around him so tightly, Bucky’s eyes rolled behind his head, mouth open and he was almost drooling at the sensation. “Fuck!” He roared. The vice of your walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good, he started to move in and out of you rapidly. He was jackrabitting, so close to coming himself, and you didn’t mind. It still felt good albeit a bit too much.

“James,” you whispered. Your hand squeezed his and you lifted your head enough to peck him on the lips. Bucky moaned brokenly. He leaned down, fully pressing his lips on yours as he kissed you deeply. He was releasing moans and grunts and sighs into the kiss, into your mouth, and you smiled. “Come on, lemme see you,” you whispered again. Pecking his lips once and twice, licking his bottom lip, you bit it gently.

Bucky cursed. His thrust halted for a second. His balls jerked as he thrusted into you one last time, and he filled the condom with his seed, his face buried in your neck. You hummed. His weight on you was a welcomed one, it felt like a personal, living, weighted blanket and you hummed again.

“Oh shit,” Bucky whispered. It was quiet for a while. He silently and carefully pulled out of you and ditched the condom. He got up to get a wet cloth from the bathroom. When he returned, he gently cleaned the between your legs, taking away all the dirt and slight blood that he caused, and then cleaned himself. Dropping the cloth somewhere in the bathroom, he walked back inside the room, lay on the bed and gathered you in his arms, hugging you tight against his chest. You sighed contently. “How do you feel? Was I too rough?”

“Mm, no,” you murmured. Your face was squished on his chest. The barbells on his nipples were warm against your cheek. “It was perfect.” You smiled dopily as you pulled back. You kissed him on the cheeks and then on the lips. “Thank you.” He smiled at you back; the crinkles around his eyes showing themselves, he scrunched his nose.

“You’re very welcome, bubba,” he whispered, kissing your nose. You chuckled and settled back on his chest. You lay in the silence. Although both of you were tired, you didn’t feel the need of sleep immediately. Bucky was in agreement with you since he started to hum again. You frowned for a second until you realized he was still singing the same song from before. You chuckled. “Hmm,” he said.

“Same song still?”

“Yup,” he grinned. “Lyrics fit, don’t you think?” You made a questioning sound. His grin widened. He was expecting you’d react like that. “You got the peaches, I got the cream,” he sang, and you snorted out loud as your face burned yet again. “Sweet to taste, saccharine.” You started to laugh. “Cause I’m hot, hot, so hot, sticky sweeet!” He started to crack up slightly. “From my head, my head to my feet, yeaah!”

“Oh my God, stop!” You cackled, face buried in his neck.

“Never,” he said and went back to singing. “Take a bottle, shake it uuup! Break the bubble, break it uuuup!” He stopted, looking at your with the corner of his eyes. You snorted and bit his neck lightly. “Come on, sing this part with me.” You shook your head. “Come ooon! Do this and I’ll shut up, I promise.” You looked at his grinning stupid face. Rolling your eyes, you murmured a ‘fine’.

“Pour some sugar on meee!” Both of you sang, trying very hard not to crack up. “Oooh, in the name of looovee! Pour some sugar on meee! C’mon fire me uup!” Bucky flipped your positions, taking you under him again, causing your breath to hitch and stop you singing.

“Pour some sugar on me,” he sang quietly this time. He leaned in and kissed you passionately, deeply, lovingly. His lips traveled your neck, peppering kisses and then came back to your lips again. He whispered the last notes of the song as he leaned in close enough for his lips to crush against yours before he engulfed you into another hot and loving round of sex.  

“Ooh, I can’t get enough…”

Your grinning self was turned into a gasping and chanting his name with pleasure one real quick after that.

──

[itsapeterthing]

Lovers’ Quarrel || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: when you married your brother’s best friend in 1941, the two of you had always promised to stick together and you did just that- even following him to wakanda where you trained alongside the dora milaje. When you find out that bucky’s released zemo from prison behind your back... needless to say you’re pissed.

a/n: okay i absolutely loved this request so much @missroro​. reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, reader and bucky fighting

masterlist || request || taglist

You were pissed to say the least.

You couldn’t understand why your husband would keep something so big such a secret from you. You had spent seventy years in ice for those you loved. You had become a super soldier for those you loved. You had spent two years off the grid in hiding for those you loved... and your husband couldn’t even tell you the truth? You would have tried to understand- helped him even- but he had chosen instead to keep you in the dark, leaving you to find out about his actions second hand from those who felt just as betrayed as you.

As you stood in the threshold of the room, spotting the five men, you could feel almost nothing but rage coursing through your veins. The tension was so thick in the room, you swore you could cut it with a knife... but you decided that a spear would do.

Throwing your arm back and tossing the spear forward, you watched as it stuck itself into the column between Sam and John Walker- the man posing as your brother.

When the spear collided with the wall, everyone’s eyes immediately snapped onto you and you could of sworn it almost felt good to watch the fear in your husband and Sam’s eyes when they spotted you, knowing just by the look on your face that they had messed up... and you weren’t one to let things like that slide.

“Y/n-” Bucky began.

With a straight face you turned your head to the side, unable to look at him, instead turning your attention to the Dora Milaje as they entered the apartment.

“Even if he is a means to your end... time’s up.” Ayo spoke in Xhosa before switching to English. “Release him to us now.”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you remained steadfast, watching the scene unfold in front of you.

“Hi. John Walker.” The new Cap attempted to introduce himself. “Captain America.”

Although you were enraged beyond compare upon finding out that the government had chosen a new man to take your brother’s place, you almost wanted to laugh at how poorly he was handling the situation.

When neither of the two women in front of him said anything, he continued.

“Well , uh.” John said. “Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

God, he was handling this poorly, wasn’t he? You would find it funny if he wasn’t so incredibly ignorant.

“Hey, John, take it easy.” Sam said looking between you and the two other women in the room. “You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.” John insisted.

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

Rather than standing to the side and allowing the group of skilled warriors to take what- or rather who- they wanted and leave, Walker couldn’t help but instigate.

As soon as his hand landed on Ayo’s shoulder, you knew he would regret that decision.

Immediately the two women began fighting- one taking on John Walker and the other Lemar. You had known the women long enough to know that they could handle the situation themselves without breaking a sweat. Still standing in the doorway, you crossed your arms watching as one began choking Lemar with her spear, the other sticking her spear into Steve’s... John’s shield.

Quickly glancing over to the other men, you caught Bucky and Sam staring at you on the sidelines, whispering to one another. As soon as you caught their line of vision you glanced away, focusing once again on the fight taking place in front of you.

Right as Ayo held her spear above John, fear written all over his face, Bucky stepped in, pulling Ayo back. Recalling why you were there in the first place, you immediately uncrossed your arms, striding over to the other side of the room, able to feel the rage flowing through your veins.

Pulling your spear from the wall, you marched up to your husband pulling him away from Ayo.

“Y/n,” He eased. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Oh you want to talk about it?” You asked, shoving him backwards with the spear. “That’s funny, Buck.”

Dodging your blows, not wanting to fight you, Bucky continued backing up and reaching for the spear to keep the metal from meeting his skin.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” He exclaimed.

Pushing harder with the spear, you grunted, kicking him to subsequently shove him back against the counter.

You asked yourself if he really thought saying ‘sorry’ would work. You knew your husband wasn't dumb enough to believe that there would be no consequences for breaking Helmut Zemo out of prison- a man who not only caused the split of the Avengers, but also killed the king of Wakanda- a place full of people who had shown you and your husband nothing but kindness. They had given Bucky a new chance at life and had given you the opportunity to train among the most expert fighters you had ever met- the Dora Milaje. They had given both of you more than you could have asked for when your life went sideways eighty years ago. So when you had received the call that Bucky had broken Zemo out of prison you could barely believe it.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Buck!” You shouted.

Knocking him back one last time, you recalled what they had taught you back in Wakanda when Bucky had first received his new arm- a trick you had hoped never to have to use, but as you stood there fighting your husband, anger fueling you in a way you had felt only a few times before, you didn’t see another way.

Moving your hand in the exact pattern you had learned years ago along where his shoulder met his chest, you listened as the the metal clicked and watched as his vibranium arm fell to the ground beside him, Bucky looking up at you with his eyes wide.

You had to shove back the part of you that felt your heart break in your chest watching the look of betrayal in his eyes. Recalling why the two of you were in this position in the first place, you stood up straighter, clearing your throat.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight, Mr. Barnes.”

Holding the spear straight beside you, you turned your attention to Ayo who opened the doors to the bathroom, only to find Zemo missing. Instructing the other warrior to drop Cap’s shield, the two women left, leaving you behind with the four remaining men in the room.

Shoving past your husband, you dropped your spear onto the ground, making your way over to Sam and smacked him across the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. “What was that for? Don’t get me involved in your little lovers’ quarrel.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” You asked him, laughing. “I’ve been Mrs. Barnes for eighty-two years, Sam. I’ve put up with a lot of shit, but don’t act like you two didn’t just break a criminal out of prison. A criminal who- need I remind you- tried to brainwash Bucky and killed King T’Chaka.”

“Don’t look at me.” Sam said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That was all Bucky.”

Immediately your eyes snapped back to your husband who was standing across the room, attaching his vibranium arm to his shoulder once again.

“Thanks, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

Before any of the rest of you could say anything, the voice from the other side of the room caught your attention. Following the voice you saw John Walker huddled against the table, his friend reaching his hand out to him.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” He mumbled, staring off into the distance.

Despite the fact that you still didn’t approve of the ‘new’ Captain America, you felt your heart tug in your chest as you watched the man break down over to the side. You felt sorry for him. You knew better than any other living person the weight the shield and legacy carried being both the adopted sister of Steve himself and the wife of his best friend.

Although you were pained watching a new man undermine your brother’s legacy, you couldn’t help but pity him.

Making your way over to John you reached out your hand to him. Looking up you could finally see the recognition in his eyes, realizing who you were. Immediately he took your hand, pulling himself to his feet.

“You’re-” He started.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Walker.” You said, before making your way over to the couch. “No one wins a fight against the Dora Milaje. I got my ass handed to me every day that I trained with them.”

Despite the fact that you were telling the truth- you lost to each one every time you fought- you enjoyed every second of it. It was a relief.

After discovering that your husband, Bucky, was still alive after decades apart, you couldn’t stand to let him out of your sight again. When Steve had brought Bucky to Wakanda with the hope of clearing his brain of the programming he had endured under Hydra, you followed him there. Despite the fact that your husband was in your arms once again, you couldn’t help the thoughts that took over your mind every day- everything that you all had lost, the memories of what you had endured and the worry that Bucky would never be the same again.

The pain of being knocked around by a member of the Dora Milaje’s spear was almost therapeutic.

Rather than replying, Lemar pat his friend on the back, nodding to the rest of you within the room before guiding his shaken friend out the door of the apartment.

“You’re being too friendly with him, Y/n.” Bucky said.

Snapping your head to the side you glared at your husband.

“What are you? Jealous?” You asked.

Rather than answer you, Bucky crossed his arms.

“I just think you’re being a little too nice to the guy that’s ruining Steve’s name-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you pushed yourself off of the couch, striding over to your husband, shoving your finger into his chest.

“Don’t tell me how to feel, James.” You told him seriously. “He was my brother. I wouldn’t have chosen that guy to take on Steve’s name either, but don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who fucked up and lied about going on this mission with Sam. Do you know what it felt like to get a call from Ayo to find out that you not only lied to me, but you betrayed the people who have been nothing but kind to us?”

Staring at you, he could tell how not only angry you were, but also distraught. The both of you had gone through hell and back and Bucky was thankful every day that even after all these years he was able- by some miracle- to still find you eighty years after the two of you had supposedly died. He had suffered through so much and done so many things he could barely look at himself in the mirror for, but at the end of the day you continued to not only be there for him, but to love him anyway.

A part of him felt awful for not telling you- he hated lying to you and you had every right to know- but after your brother had left the two of yours’ lives, he didn’t want to put any further strain on you than you had already endured.

He knew once he freed Zemo that you would find out, but as you stood in front of him he almost wish he hadn’t so you wouldn't be feeling this type of way.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Bucky said. “I didn't... after everything with Steve I didn’t want to get you involved. You deserved a break, doll.”

Relaxing your shoulders, you sighed, resting your hand on his bicep.

“And what about you, Buck?” You asked. “Don’t you deserve a break?”

“That’s different, Y/n.” He said. “I need this. You know I do.”

You knew he did. You had been there while his guilt kept him up at night, waking him up after only a few hours of what you could barely call rest. You knew that his past had been eating away at him, especially since Steve left, and that doing something wholly good might bring him some semblance of peace.

“I know.” You said, meeting his eyes. “So I’m going to help you. We’re in this together, Buck, okay?”

Despite the fact that he wanted to keep you as far away from danger as he could- something he could never manage considering you had been fighting alongside the Avengers since before he had even gained his memory back- he knew he couldn’t say no to you.

“Alright.” He agreed.

Gently squeezing his arm you gave him a soft smile.

“Glad to see you guys are good.” Sam quipped. “Incase you forgot Zemo’s now on the loose and the back of my head stings like hell.”

Smiling and turning to, Sam, you playfully swat his arm.

“Please.” You laughed. “Big, strong guy like you? You barely felt that.”

“Listen I’m not a super soldier like you two.” He said, pointing between you and Bucky. “Remind me not to mess with your kids some day. Last thing I need is getting knocked out by some kid with two super soldiers for parents.”

“We should go find Zemo.” Bucky said clearing his throat, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. Let’s go.”

Not one to argue, Sam threw his hands up in the air, leading the way out of the door of Zemo’s apartment. As your foot was about to cross the door, however, you felt Bucky’s hand wrap around your arm, pulling you to the side.

“So do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?” Bucky asked in a hushed voice.

“Oh honey,” You cooed, patting the side of his cheek before laughing. “You’re not getting out of this one that at easily.”

Watching from his spot on the steps as you picked up the pace to catch up with Sam, he crossed his arms smiling to himself. Steve was right when he said that he was going to be okay... as long as he was with you, how couldn’t he be?

[put-trash-here]

We'll Get Out of Here ~ Peter Parker

This one is really long for something I wrote. Also I've never written a fight scene before so it isn't really Marvel worthy.

No Spoilers for No Way Home

Warnings: Violence, Kidnapping, Torture, (the big three as I call it), really bad villain name (or not name), poor writing

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, you and Peter are forced to endure things that aren't exactly normal for high schoolers.

Word Count: 3320

“Lab is clear,” you whispered into your comm.

Your hands were outstretched in front of you, silent, red flames jumping between them. Hydra’s labs were usually a lot more brutal than this. Instead of the usual inhumane experiments and technology designed for destruction, there were just tables covered in papers and files.

“There are a ton of files here, guys. All on paper, I don’t even see a single computer in here.”

Static came through your earpiece before Steve’s voice echoed in your head.

“We’ll have someone come back for it. Keep going down to the storage room and Parker will meet you there. Peter, status.”

“I’m here Cap’. Makin’ my way down now.”

You moved out of the lab and back into the dark hallway. You diminished the flames in your hands so as to not draw any attention to yourself.

You had been a part of the Avengers for almost two years now. It started when you had accidentally set fire to your principal’s office and Tony Stark showed up at your parents house that day when you had gotten home from school. Now, you were a part-time Avenger and full-time student with your best-friend Peter Parker.

“East wing is secured,” you heard Natasha say. “No one is here.”

“There’s nobody in the south wing either,” Tony informed us. “Could they have been warned?”

“Not possible, the only people who knew we were coming were us, Fury-”

A loud screech in your comm cut the captain out causing you to let out a yelp and rip your mask from your head.

“Y/N?” Peter’s voice came from down the corridor.

“Peter? Is your comm working?”

You sped up your steps and hurried to him. He shook his head. His mask was in his hands, too, likely due to the same reason.

“Should we keep going?” He asked, looking around.

You summoned a small flame to help you both see.

“Yeah, the others said that the base is basically empty and I’m sure we can handle a few agents if we need to.”

You both locked eyes and you could see him considering it.

“But we won’t be able to call for backup if we need it.”

“We’re going to the storage room, I don’t think that’s Hydra’s top priority in a raid.”

Peter nodded slowly, running his free hand through his hair.

“Okay.”

The two of you walked on silent feet to the end of the hallway, where you descended a dark staircase.

“The blueprint says it’s a door on our right in 87 feet,” Peter stated, referencing the 3D map being projected from his suit.

When you both reached the door, you tested it finding it locked.

“Should I?’

“I got it,” you responded, moving a flame to the tip of your finger.

You pressed it to the lock and slowly, but surely, it melted away. Peter pushed the door open and the two of you slipped inside. Rows of files stretched along the walls covered in layers of dust. On the far side of the room was a computer monitor set on a desk with no chair. The space wasn’t big and it probably hadn’t been used for years. Peter made his way to the computer while you started examining the files. All the names on the sides of the binders and folders were in Russian, a language neither of you were any good at.

“Wow, this thing is ancient,” Peter chuckled.

You walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder. He was right, this thing was so old Steve probably knew how to operate it.

“I don’t even see a place to plug in the flash-drive.”

“Oh, there isn’t.”

You spun around, fire spiraling up your arms at the unfamiliar voice. Peter stepped out from behind you, both of you scanning the room for the source.

“You see, Peter, Y/N, there is no information for you to collect from this room.”

A man stepped out from behind one of the file cabinets and you cursed yourself quietly for not noticing the secret door. The man was dressed in a black tactical suit. Straps carrying guns and knives littered his torso. As he moved closer to you and Peter, four other men stepped out of the secret passageway.

“Yes, this was a trap. There’s no information for you to collect. There is only what you’ll give to me.”

“Like hell we will,” you glared at him.

“Not from you, sweet Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you subtly took a step closer to Peter.

“Mr. Parker here is going to tell us exactly how to make and neutralize the web fluid.”

“I won’t tell you a thing,” Peter’s voice didn’t waver. His back straightened, giving you a signal of the upcoming fight.

Your flames heated to a light blue. The man nodded.

“Alright, we’ll do this the hard way.”

The men attacked, lunging forward at the two of you. Peter shot out his webs at two of the men’s feet, causing them to stick. You charged at one of them. He sent a jab to your ribs which you blocked with a flaming hand making him cry out in pain. Another one of the men came up behind you, kicking in the back of the knees. You fell forward, standing back up with a roll and stepped closer, punching him in the jaw. The smell of burnt skin filled the air as you fought. A hit to your stomach brought you to your knees and the men were able to get a kick to your side. You groan rolling onto your back and using both hands to wrap around his ankle. He hollered dropping down to the floor and slamming his knee into your chest.

Peter was fighting the three other guys near the computer. They had their blades out and every time Peter would try to web them, they’d slice through them. The strategy wouldn’t be super effective in the long run but it allowed them to get some hits on Peter.

You focused back in on your fight and wrapped your arms around one of the men’s necks. He screamed at the burning sensation and clawed at your hands to let him go. Your grip tightened but before he was rendered unconscious, you felt a cold needle slide into your throat. Your arms loosened allowing the man to fall. The syringe was pulled from your body and thrown on the ground.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, noticing your situation.

“Crap,” you muttered falling to your knees.

The fire on your arms dissipated as you felt your body temperature drop. Your hands were shaking at the sudden cold feeling and your head was spinning.

“Y/N!” Peter shouted again.

In his distraction one of the men was able to fire a shot into Peter’s leg, making him cry out. Your vision was swirling as you continued to crumple further to the ground.

“Have a good little nap, Y/N,” you heard as your eyes shut.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you came to.

Your head was aching, probably a side effect of whatever drug it was that they gave you before.

“Y/N?”

Peter’s concerned voice prompted you to open your eyes.

You were strapped down to a steel chair, leather bindings at your wrists and ankle to hold you there. Apparently someone had stripped you of your suit while you were unconscious, leaving you in your sports bra and shorts. You looked up to see Peter in a similar situation, only he was held down by metal casings fused to his chair. Your eyes trailed to his leg. It was sloppily wrapped in a bandage and though the bleeding had slowed, there was still red blooming on the fabric.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy,” you muttered.

The room they had the two of you in was unfinished. Bare concrete walls and floors, a barely there window allowing only a tiny smidge of light to land on the floor in between you both, and a singular light-bulb hanging from the ceiling. Classic kidnapping movie setting.

“How long have you been awake?” You asked him.

“Maybe 20 minutes, not like I have a watch.”

“They said anything yet?”

“No. That guy also somehow knew about the trackers in our suits. They disposed of them somewhere else.”

“Damn.”

“Can you melt your restraints?”

You closed your eyes, trying to summon a flame but instead shivered at the onslaught of cold it brought you. You shook your head.

“We have to figure another way out then,” Peter said.

The sound of the door slamming open interrupted your brief conversation.

“Now that I have both of your attentions, let’s begin.”

The man who had spoken to you both earlier began walking around the room, settling behind Peter’s chair. He set his hands on Peter’s shoulders and you tensed.

“Why don’t you tell me about that web-fluid, huh?”

“No thanks, Gerald.”

The man raised an eyebrow at Peter’s response.

“If you’re not going to tell us your name then I’ll have to make one up for you, Gerald.”

The man, Gerald, gave a small smile. Not a nice, comforting one, more like a sinister “I’m going to make your life a living hell” smile.

“Peter, I’m giving you a chance here because you're just a kid. Just tell me what I need to know and you won’t have to deal with my ugly side.”

Peter didn’t respond. Instead he locked eyes with you, holding your stare. There was a minute of no talking.

“Ugly side it is,” Gerald snickered.

He exited the room, the metal door slamming and locking shut behind him.

You both let out a breath. Peter leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Mr. Stark will find us,” you said.

“I know.”

“I should have listened to you.” Peter stayed silent. “I’m sorry.”

He brought his head back up and nodded. His eyes darted to the door and his eyes showed a flash of fear.

“Just tell him, Pete.” Peter’s eyes shot back to you. “You don’t have to get hurt over this.”

He shook his head.

“No, and honestly I’m done taking your suggestions.”

“Peter!”

“No, Y/N!” He shouted at you. “I should have just listened to my gut because now I’m about to be tortured for information that you know I can’t tell him because he will use it to hurt people.”

You looked down to your knees. Tears were filling up your eyes but you did your best to blink them away. Peter was right, this was your fault. You had been reckless, just wanting to get the mission done and get home but now you were about to get your friend hurt.

“I know,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Peter huffed in response, his foot tapping against the ground.

A couple minutes of tense silence later the door opened again. Gerald walked in followed by another man pushing a cart of tools. Peter’s foot increased in it’s tapping as you gulped.

“Please, you don’t have to do this!” you begged, as the cart was set next to Peter. “You don’t have to hurt him, please!”

Gerald laughed and picked up a thin dagger. Peter’s eyes widened and his breathing got a touch heavier. The leather cut into your skin as you pulled against it, trying to free yourself.

“Who said I was going to hurt him?”

Gerald kneeled down next to your chair and grabbed your hand, facing your palm up.

“Wait!” Peter cried out. “Don’t touch her!”

The dagger was dragged against your palm cutting deep into your skin. You shut your mouth tight, suppressing the groan that wanted to leave your lips.

“The longer it takes for you to not speak, Peter, the more cuts on her skin,” he said tauntingly.

Gerald brought the dagger up to your forearm and cut again. Your eyes squeezed tight, but still no noise escaped you.

“Don’t tell him, Pete. I’m fine.”

This continued for hours, at least that’s what it felt like. Peter’s pleas for him to stop grew a little less urgent at your reassurances. Cuts were bleeding on your arms and legs but it wasn’t too bad. You got cuts during battles all the time, you could handle this. But Gerald grew impatient.

“Alright then,” he grumbled, his hand stroking your hair. “We’ll try something else. Gag her.”

The other man who had been standing silently against the wall pulled a cloth from the cart and shoved it into your mouth despite your protests. Peter’s hands were shaking. Your reassurances had been the thing that made him feel a little better and now you would not be able to give him any.

Gerald grabbed a bucket of water that had been placed in the corner earlier and moved to stand behind you.

“No, no, wait!” Peter begged.

Gerald pulled your hair, forcing your head back with a yelp before pouring some of the water on your face. You struggled in your chair, gasping for air but only getting liquid instead. He finally let go of your head and you surged forward, coughing out the water the best you could with the gag still in. Peter leaned forward in his chair calling your name.

“Y/N? Please, stop this!” he pleaded.

Gerald ignored him and pulled your head back again, letting more water stream over your face.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hours passed. You had been cut, waterboarded, strangled, beaten, and still Peter wouldn’t give anything up.

You had done everything you could to hold in the sounds of pain and give reassuring looks to Peter but you were starting to give up.

Peter’s voice was becoming gravely as Gerald hit you in the ribs again. When none of the words leaving Peter’s mouth was the formula he crossed to him and hit him across the face, hard.

“When I come back, you will tell me what I need to know,” he hissed.

Gerald pulled down your gag and spit in your face, making you recoil. He walked out of the room, the other man pulling the cart out with him. As soon as the door shut, Peter started struggling against his restraints again.

“We’re getting out of here, Y/N. I swear.”

“Peter,” you whispered. “Stop struggling, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

He froze.

“Hurt myself? Are you kidding me Y/N? No, I’m going to get us out of here and you’re going to get to a hospital.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back. Your entire body ached. Even if Peter could somehow get out of his chair, you wouldn’t be able to walk out of this place without his help. That would mean leaving him without a way to fight.

Peter continued to struggle as you took deep breaths.

“I think my ribs are broken,” you say quietly.

He stops, staring up at you with concern in his eyes.

“It feels like they’re scraping my lungs.”

Tears fill your eyes as Peter slumps in his chair.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m going to tell them everything as soon as he gets back in here.”

“No,” you groan at the pain in your body as you jerk forward. “They’ll kill both of us the minute we don’t have any use to them.”

“I can’t just sit here and watch this anymore, Y/N! It’s been hours and I don’t know how much more your body can take!”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I won’t just continue doing nothing when someone I love is in pain!”

The words were barely able to register in your brain before the door opened again and Gerald walked in with a revolver.

“See this, Parker?”

Peter gulped, staring at the weapon.

“There’s a bullet in one of these. Why don’t we find out which one.”

Gerald pressed the gun up against your head and spun the chamber, locking it in place.

“Don’t! I'll tell you everything!” Peter shouted.

“No, Pete don’t-”

Gerald slammed the gun across your face, knocking you unconscious. Peter flinched, forcing himself to look away from your limp frame.

“I’ll tell you what you want. Just don’t… just don’t hurt her anymore.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peter had told them everything and in return, they unstrapped you both from your chairs, disposing of you onto the ground. Peter crawled to you and pulled your head into his lap, trying to get the rest of your body into the most comfortable position he could.

His hands stoked your hair as he surveyed the damage to you. The cuts all over your body had mostly stopped bleeding but dark purple bruising was now covering your form. You had been right before, at least one of your ribs was definitely severely broken, a dip on your side telling him that. Your wrists and ankles were raw due to the struggle against the leather. Peter also was able to notice a small blue light blinking in your neck, most likely how they were able to stop your powers. The parts of your face not covered in bruises were red and blotchy from crying.

Tears spilled from Peter’s eyes and he quickly wiped them again.

“Peter?” you groaned quietly.

“Hey! I’m here. You’re okay,” he soothed.

“Ow,” you whispered, tears slipped down your face.

“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to help.”

Your eyes stayed closed but you brought one of your hands up slowly to interlock with his.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” he asked softly, though he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Do you really love me?”

Peter’s grip on your hand tightened.

“I shouldn’t have blamed you for this before. It wasn’t fair of me,” he said.

“It was true though,” you whispered. He was trying to change the subject but you went along with it. It’s not like you had the strength to push him on it right now anyways. “You wanted to find the team. If we had, we wouldn’t have been outnumbered.”

“I could have pushed it harder. It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

You gave him a small hum in response and slowly opened your eyes. He looked down at you, his free hand gently wiping away the tears on your face.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

Peter stilled. There was a pause before he relaxed again and smiled weakly.

“I’m glad.”

You closed your eyes again and his hand continued to stroke your hair. The two of you sat there in silence, with nothing but the sounds of your raspy breathing. Just before you fell asleep there was a bang from outside.

“Was that a gunshot?” You asked.

“Stay here.”

Peter gently moved you from his lap, placing your head softly on the floor before moving to stand. He grunted at the pain in his leg as he shielded you from the door. More shots, definitely a gun. You heard shouts of pain and orders being shouted in Russian from outside. You flinched as something hit the door and Peter moved into the best defensive position he could. There was a rattling noise and the door opened. Peter shot forward aiming to punch whoever walked through but it was caught.

“Hey, hey, hey, Spider-ling. Relax, it’s just me.”

Peter paused, looking up at Tony’s face which was being uncovered from the mask. Tony stiffened when Peter threw his arms around him before returning the embrace.

“Y/N needs help,” Peter said, pulling away.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony looked further into the room, seeing your battered form. He rushed to get down next to you, Peter sitting on the other side and holding your hand.

“FRIDAY?”

As FRIDAY gave a report of your injuries and Tony informed the rest of the team, Peter and you locked eyes.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him.

He leaned forward pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 1

Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

Part 1 , Part 2

“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.

“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.

“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.

“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.

“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.

The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.

“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.

“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.

After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.

Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.

Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.

Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”

“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.

“Just don’t.”

Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.

Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?

The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.

“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.

Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.

Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.

“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.

“I came to see how you were doing?”

“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.

“Barnes?”

“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”

“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.

“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”

“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.

“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.

“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”

“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.

You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.

“That’s Bucky sweetie.”

“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.

“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.

The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.

“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”

The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.

“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.

“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”

“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.

You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.

“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”

“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.

“So you broke him out of prison?!”

“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.

“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.

You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.

“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.

“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”

“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”

“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.

Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.

[luna-rainbow]

Hey, I am genuinely curious about what explanation the people from What If are gonna give to the Steve Winter Soldier, they kind of backed themselves into a corner, because when it was just the stucky moments before the war, they could just say we misunderstood the scenes, and just liked to imagine two hot guys kissing and any gay subtext we saw it was just in our heads. But with Steve being the WS they basically are saying that it was romantic UNLESS the robot isn't Steve, which is not happening because they are trying to sell us the idea that they are soulmates, so they can't be happy with anyone else. And I think this is going to be a corner they can't get out of, and i think this is the line that the stucky shippers are going to draw, and going to collectively drop MCU, or at least I am, love the fics and the drawings but not going to spend my money to watch anything else they do. What do you think?

Sorry I got completely off topic on this ask so had to delete and rewrite.

To be honest I get the sense most Stucky shippers have already stopped acknowledging canon since EG, no? LOL.

I honestly don’t know how they’re going to explain Steve being in the current timeline. How did he survive? Are they going to say he got the super soldier serum elsewhere? But if he’s in the mobile suit robot does that mean he didn’t go through the Winter Soldier timeline of torture and brainwashing?

And uh…the other thing is a fundamental misunderstanding of the dynamic. Like, personally I’m more than happy to take a non-romantic reading of Steve-Bucky, but that doesn’t minimise how special their bond was. The Steve-Bucky-Peggy trio actually consists of three very strong personalities. The reason it doesn’t seem that way with Steve and Bucky is because they are Steve and Bucky. If you take the two of them away from each other — you have Steve who won’t back down in front of someone like the director of SHIELD or the to-be-king of Wakanda. There’s less available of Bucky but we can infer from the fact he survived 70 years of torture with his morality intact and the way he deals with his recovery that he’s got a very stubborn streak. And then you have Peggy who’s quite bullish in her capabilities.

The reason Steve and Bucky seem fairly mild in front of each other is because of their long histories with each other. They’ve worked out how to love each other despite their stubborn tempers, and a big part of that is the fact they share much of their morality and values. They know their goals will align, which I think is part of the reason Bucky was happy to step back and let Steve into the leadership role post-serum and in all later encounters, because there’s an implicit trust that Steve will do what Bucky himself also believes in. And let’s face it, the trust also comes from the fact they know they have each other’s best interests at heart.

The same dynamic does not exist with Peggy. It can’t and it’s shown very clearly in the first episode of What If that she definitely does not have Steve’s best interests at heart. While we the audience might see Bucky as Steve’s sidekick (and maybe even Bucky himself does), Steve doesn’t. Bucky’s safety and personal choice are never treated by Steve as an afterthought. I may be wrong but I get the sense that WI!Steve is being written as an afterthought to Peggy’s own heroic conquests, the traditional MCU love interest, if you will.

WI!Steve is a disabled, second generation Irish immigrant from a single parent family who has to live with the consequences of Peggy’s choice in a world where ventolin and insulin were very new or did not exist. WI!Peggy is a well-off Englishwoman who had no concept of the privilege she already possessed and revelled in the added boost given by the serum. It’s ludicrous that their arcs can at all parallel CATWS, a situation where two people who had known each other their whole lives broke through the conditioning with their mutual trust and care for each other…romantically read or not.

Add: I feel like I derailed myself LOL What I was meaning to get at in the middle is that Steve and Bucky gets along despite their personalities because their morality align. Steve and Peggy’s don’t align (some of their goals might but they are so different in their experiences and perspectives, and the implicit trust isn’t there) that they’re bound to have a lot of friction and disagreements if the series actually wrote their characters properly.

[h50europe]

Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

[navegandoaciegas]

Lace

Pairing: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (not Stucky)

Summary: Bucky is on Santa’s naughty list, but you make sure he gets his Christmas gift anyways.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, lovesick/insecure/creepy!Bucky, exhibitionism, voyeurism, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, reader is a meanie in this one, but Bucky is a perv to be fair. Bucky wearing panties.

A/N: I was inspired by @mypoisonedvine sinful bodyguard au, so here we go. Written for the Happy Hoelidays Challenge hosted by @navybrat817 @stargazingfangirl18 and @donutloverxo . I chose the prompt “Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you.” I hope you guys like this!

Bucky didn’t hate being a bodyguard, in fact he liked it.

He’d had to endure his fair share of trust fund brats, spoiled ladies with wandering eyes and even more wandering hands, and filthy rich men with anger issues, but it had all ultimately led to you, and you were all that mattered.

Bucky liked his job. He really did. What he hated, though, was taking you home after an event, as most times it meant that you weren’t alone, and some rich hunk with an Invisalign smile he couldn’t afford would be attached to you like a leech.

He hated those men, hated the way they touched you like he so desperately wanted but couldn’t, but most importantly, he hated how you enjoyed it.

Steve Rogers, tonight’s man, was Hollywood’s heartthrob of the moment, and Bucky could see why you’d chosen him at the Christmas party you’d attended.

Tall, broad shoulders, long slicked back hair, thich brown beard and puppy eyes,

He’d had his lips on yours during the ride, his hands shamelessly hiking up your cocktail dress, past your crimson panties -that Bucky totally hadn’t taken a peak at while you were getting ready-, until he’d heard your breath hitch, and some broken moans escape your lips, and he’d known that Steve had dipped his filthy hands inside your cunt. And that had enraged him as much as it had aroused him.

Then the driver had turned the volume of the radio all the way up with a disgusted sneer, and Bucky had gotten back to sulking in the passenger seat while another man made you his for the night.

The elevator’s doors slided open with a ding, and Bucky trudged to the front door of your penthouse, ready for a restless night of listening to your screams and Steve’s groans through the thin walls of your bedroom like it’d had happened countless times before.

Steve grabbed a handful of your ass, and you yelped, giggling as you shed his velvet jacket and threw it on the couch. He hoisted you up on the counter of your open space, settling himself between your legs, and when enough bile had risen in his throat to make him sick, Bucky turned around, cock already achingly hard in his pants, mood soured.

He’d need to take care of that on his own, imagining your manicured hands instead of his calloused, rough ones. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you crying out for him, crying out his name instead of Steve’s.

He made his way through your living room, dragging his feet with heavy steps.

He was a stupid, hopeless man, with a stupid, creepy crush on his employer, and absolutely no chance to- “Going to bed already?”

Your voice surprised him, startling out of his gloomy thoughts, and he whirled around, finding you still propped on the counter, the shameless tick still stuck to your side.

You’d normally yell at him to get lost while you fucked whatever man you wanted, so he found it odd that you’d spoken to him in something other than contempt.

The imagine of your hands on Steve’s face were enough to make him want to lash out at you, yell at you to go to Hell where many of your employees whispered you’d crawled up from, but he knew he couldn’t. He could never be mad at you. And even if he couldn’t have you, being in your life as your bodyguard was better than not being in your life at all.

So he sucked it up, and gave you what he hoped was a convincing smile. “‘S been a long night.”

You hummed, eyes still boring in his while Steve’s huge hands travelled up your thighs, disappearing under your dress. He busied himself with your neck, suckling the skin between his teeth, sucking bruises from the slope of your shoulder to your pulse point.

“Why don’t you stay, hm?” you moaned, gaze unwavering, tilting your head to give him better access.

Bucky wondered how Steve could be so unaffected by your words, when he was combusting on the spot, throat dry and eyes wide. He reasoned that he must have heard wrong, or that you were playing some cruel prank on him.

His crush was probably not as subtle as he’d liked, and you weren’t as oblivious as he wished.

You giggled when he gaped at you like a fish, and Steve turned his head just enough to smirk at him, en evil glint in his eyes, before he dove back in the crook of your neck, descending further to the swell of your breasts.

He was sure that he’d blushed a deep shade of crimson, deeper than the one of your panties. He’d heard you moan wantonly, heard the sweet sounds you made when a man pleasured you, memorized your whimpers and pleads when you begged them to fuck you harder, faster, deeper.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d watched the sex scenes in your movie until he’d etched every curve and line of your body in the back of his mind, and he was even less proud of the fact that he’d kept things he shouldn’t have kept, and had jerked off to them countless times.

Bucky fought the urge to follow his tongue as it traced the outline of your tits, pushed up by a matching bra -the one that he had also totally not taken a peak at-, and cleared his throat.

“I’ll leave you two to it, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Wait,” you whined, pushing Steve away and jumping down the counter with a huff.

The pout on your lips was his weakness, and you knew it. You grabbed your himbo by the collar of his suit, and dragged him to your bedroom, beckoning Bucky to follow you.

His legs led him behind you as you opened the door and pushed Steve down on the bed.

He was bewildered, and alarmed, but he as usual, he did nothing but obey.

“I want you to stay, and watch,” you declared, straddling Steve’s lap.

Bucky’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and he sputtered for an adequate response, coming up empty.

“What-?” he stammered, confused and a little hurt.

He looked at Steve for something, anything, but found him busy pushing down your dress, your tits spilling out of the fabric.

He gulped, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Nothing you haven’t seen already, right?”

You chuckled then, and turned around to face him while you ground your ass on Steve’s lap.

“What is it, Bucky baby?” you asked, quirking a brow, “You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me?”

All rational thoughts flew out the window the moment you spread your legs, hooked your fingers around the band of your panties and pushed them down your thighs.

The feeble fabric bunched around your heels, and with a twist of your foot, you sent it flying over to Bucky. It hit him in the chest, and he grasped it in his palm before it fell to the ground.

Your glistening heat was in full display, slick gathered around your entrance, swollen clit, and his mouth watered at the sight. He wanted so desperately to crawl over to you and dip his head between your legs, worshipping your body like you deserved.

“You think I don’t know?”

“Know what?” he whimpered, eyes travelling upwards, hypnotized on Steve’s tongue as it swirled around one of your nipples, the bud stiffening right between his lips.

“That you lay all alone in your bed, everynight, and think about me. That you wish it was my hand around your cock when you stroke yourself, and-God, baby-, thinking about fucking me, fuck-” you moaned, fisting a handful of Steve’s golden hair when his teeth grazed your sentitive peaks, “That you want to be buried deep inside my cunt and fill me up with your cum?”

He stood there, mouth agape, getting hardered with every world you breathed out.

“You think I don’t know you sneak in my room, like a little creep? Think I really believe that it’s the dryer eating up my panties?”

His head was empty in that moment, bile rising in his chest as Steve’s eyes fixed on his, derision written all over his face.

He wanted the ground to swallow him whole, and to disappear forever, to never have to face the humiliation of being confronted for his disturbing behavior again.

He’d never felt so low in his life before.

“What do you do with my panties, baby boy? Do you sniff them like a pervert? Do you jerk off thinking about me and then cum in them, pretending that it’s my pussy instead?”

You stood up from Steve's lap, taking slow, calculated steps towards him. When your hand grazed his aching cock through his slacks, a pathetic cry left his lips.

“Or maybe you like to wear them, hm? You like wearing my panties, Bucky? Like how lace looks around your fat cock?”

He averted his eyes to the carpeted floors, and you snickered, squeezing his balls tighter in your grip.

“I knew it.”

You didn’t sound angry, just very amused.

He didn’t know why or how you’d known these things, what he knew was that the guilt that had been gnawing his heart for months was finally bubbling up in his chest.

He realized it was wrong, pleasuring himself to your things without your consent, but at the time he’d been so desperate to imagine himself with you, feel closer to you, that he hadn’t cared for the morality of it all.

Sobs shook his chest and tears streamed down his face as apologies spilled out of his lips. Your hands caressed his stubbled cheeks, a soft smile on your lips.

“I like seeing you cry, pretty boy. Maybe I should do it more often,” you mused, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his mouth.

His crying ceased when he felt your tongue lick the trail of tears from his lips to the corner of his eye, your hands fisting his button down shirt. He didn’t move, didn’t even breath or blink, afraid you’d disappear before his eyes.

“Since you like watching so much,” you spoke in his ear, your breath sending tingles down his spine, “then I’ll let you watch.”

He stood frozen on the spot, looking over at your companion, who merely shrugged, undoing his belt, unfazed by the turn of events.

“You’ve been naughty, so naughty this year,” you taunted him, “but it’s just your luck that I’m more generous and forgiving than Santa himself. Consider this a Christmas gift, hm? Merry Christmas, Bucky baby,” you cheered, a million dollar smile on your face, “now strip.”

The command was spoken with such authority, so unlike your honeyed voice, that he was sure he’d get whiplash before the night ended.

He shed his clothes quickly, knowing that you didn’t like to wait, only hesitating a little before getting rid of his shirt.

You took a moment to scan his features, eyes scrutinizing all his flaws, tracing the marred skin around his prosthetic, the scars on his chest, abdomen, the flared one that ran from his armpit to the side of his face.

He wasn’t the prettiest to look at, he didn’t have flawless skin like Steve, but he hoped you liked what you saw.

You hummed, and he followed your tongue as it darted out to wet your lips.

“The boxers need to go, puppy.”

He casted a shy glance at you, and then at Steve, and hooked his fingers around the waistband of his briefs, letting them drop to the carpet around his feet.

He felt vulnerable under your heated gaze, and the blush that graced his cheeks expanded to his neck, down to his chest. He rocked back and forth on his heels, his throbbing cock bobbing with the motion.

“Who knew you were packing all this,” you purred, taking a step forward.

You raised a hand, sharp nails grazing his pecs, the coarse hair that trailed his abs, until you grasped his cock.

He’d imagined countless times your palm on his velvety skin, your wrist twisting around him, but none of his fantasies came even remotely close to the real thing.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, and let you work him in your fist, your other hand caressing the side of his face. He felt like he could come just like that, until you stopped abruptly.

“Wear my panties,” you commanded, voice almost bored, taking a step back.

“W-what? I- I can’t, I’m-”

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you? I wanna see it.”

He hesitated a moment, biting his lips. He could refuse… but he really liked wearing your underwear, and he really liked making you happy, keeping you satisfied.

He bent over, grabbing your panties from the pile of clothes on the floor, and slowly slid them up his thick legs.

The lace dug in his flesh, and his cock sat upright against his pubic bone, a wet patch of pre cum already seeping through the crimson mesh.

He felt pretty in your panties, and he didn’t feel pretty often. He was happy, as happy as he could be in the moment, when he didn’t find disgust on your face, or ridicule on Steve’s.

“They look better on you, baby boy. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you wear them wherever you want, hm?”

Again, you didn’t sound mad, so Bucky nodded meekly, and followed your instructions to sit down on the chair next to your bed, and keep his eyes wide open.

“You can touch yourself, but if you cum before we’re done, you’re getting punished. And you don’t want to know what that entails,” you added behind your shoulder, crawling on the bed.

Steve perked up, gently clutching your forearms and bringing you down to him.

His eyes darted briefly from yours to your lips, and he crashed his mouth against yours, pulling you in a breathtaking kiss, all tongue and clattering teeth.

You pulled back to catch your breath as Steve ogled you.

“Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you,” Steve murmured against your skin, dragging you down between his thick thighs.

He tore your dress down the front, and shred your lingerie to pieces with a brute force that Bucky didn’t imagine he possessed, leaving you in your high heels.

You always looked beautiful, but under the soft lights of your room, slightly out of breath, you seemed ethereal. Steve’s lips were everywhere on your body, tongue licking stripes from your stomach to your tits, his touch bruising on your skin as he kneaded your flesh between his hands. You hissed when bit down on your neck, and pushed him down against the headboard, crawling over to him.

Bucky had the perfect visual of your ass up in the air, your tits swinging, and your face slowly lowering down. He rubbed his hand over your panties, bucking his hips a little so soothe some of the ache in his throbbing cock.

He almost gasped when you tugged down on Steve’s boxers, and his cock sprung out against his abs. He was big, certainly bigger than him, and so thick that your hand couldn’t wrap around him.

You threw Bucky a mischievous wink, and flattened your tongue, licking a stripe from Steve’s balls to his tip. You were good, he realized, teasing him with slow, kitten licks, swirling your tongue around his sensitive slit, peppering kisses over his shaft.

Steve was breathless, a thin coat of sweat covering his shredded muscles, and he threw his head back when you took him in your mouth, painted lips closing around him.

Bucky wished it was his cock you were sucking, but overall couldn’t complain about the show.

You lowered your head, swallowing Steve’s cock slowly but surely, stretching your jaw as much as possible. You began bobbing up and down then, one hand twisting his velvety skin where your mouth couldn’t reach, the other fondling with his balls.

Bucky felt like he could burst at any moment, but he willed his pleasure back, eager for your approval when he’d show you he hadn’t disobeyed you. The more you hollowed out your cheeks around Steve’s cock, the more he felt the need to be your good, obedient boy.

Steve grunted, a string of curses leaving his lips when your teeth grazed his sensitive head, and held you down, pressing a hand against the back of your head. He began bucking his hips upwards, fucking your mouth with a brutal pace.

“So fuckin’ good, baby, fuck-, suck my cock, -yes, that’s good, like the little slut you are.”

You gagged, sputtered and choked around his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin, tears streaming down your face, eyes boring into Steve’s.

Bucky squeezed the base of his cock tightly, wishing he was the one fucking your face right now.

A strangled gasp escaped you when Steve pulled your head up by your hair, a string of saliva dripping from your lips to his cock.

“You’re too good at this, sweetheart, but I don't want it to be over so soon,” he snarled, voice raspy.

He tossed you sideways, and you spread your legs. From where he sat, Bucky had the perfect visual of your slick cunt.

Steve pumped his cock a few times, and lined himself up with your entrance. He dragged the tip through your folds, coating himself in your juices before slamming inside you.

Your pussy twitched around him, and Bucky observed completely enraptured how your tight walls gripped his cock as he thrusted inside you, slowly at first.

“Fuck, Steve, you’re so fuckin’ big, God, yes, yes, move,” you shrieked, nails digging in Steve’s back.

He gave it to you like you wanted, hips snapping at a punishing pace, and soon the room was filled with the lewd squelching sounds of your dripping cunt and the slapping ones of Steve’s balls against your ass.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock,” he growled, hoisting your leg over the crook of his arm, thrusting deeper into you, “Can you be good for me? A good little cockdrunk whore, hm? Cum on my cock, baby, I know you can do this.”

Bucky squirmed on his chair, pressing down on his balls, feeling the coil in his lower belly tighten. He almost came when you did, but willed himself back. He’d have to be good for you.

“Shit, I’m coming, yes, fuck, fuck-” you screeched, toes curling and muscles going rigid as waves of pleasure shook through you.

Steve gave you no time to come down from your high, manhandling you on all fours, ass up in the air, and slamming himself inside you again.

Your eyes met Bucky’s, and he lost himself in the raw, deep passion he found there. Makeup streamed down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged all over your chin and nose.

You looked like the embodiment of sin, with your swollen lips in the shape on an ‘o’ and glazed eyes.

“You like this, hm? Like when I fuck you like a whore?” Steve growled, pounding into you like a man possessed, “Like my big fuckin’ cock inside you?”

You mewled, fisting the sheets of your bed, shrieking when he pulled you up by your hair, flush against his chest. He kept fucking into you, one hand clutching your cunt, fingers teasing your clit.

Bucky’s balls felt tight, and he was so hard it hurt, as he watched Steve hammer into you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your abused pussy, until he’d lost count of how many he’d given you, and you were barely coherent, saliva dribbling down your chin, mumbling incoherent, broken prayers.

He’d fucked you stupid, unable to speak or do anything, really, other than letting him rut inside you.

After what felt like hours, Steve’s hips stuttered, and he stilled with an animalistic grunt, emptying himself inside you. He collapsed to your side, catching his breath.

When you set back on your elbows, spreading your legs, both men watched in fascination as his cum seeped out of your swollen cunt, pooling on the silky fabric of your sheets.

“C’mon, pretty boy, your turn now,” Steve panted, beckoning him over.

Bucky hesitated before getting up from his chair, ready to burst at the seams at any minute, and crawled over to you, settling between your legs.

“Lick her clean,” Steve commanded, and he obeyed with no second though, dipping his tongue between your folds.

Your tangy taste mixed with Steve’s slightly salty cum, but Bucky didn’t care, intent on sucking your dry. He lapped at your cunt, tongue working your sensitive bud, latching onto it and suckling it between his lips.

“More,” you pleaded, fisting his locks in your hands, grinding your hips on his face.

He dipped two fingers inside you, then, pumping them in and out your pussy, enjoying the feel of your walls twitching and fluttering around them.

He doubled his efforts, crooking his palm and jerking his hand inside you while swiping his face through your folds, rutting his hips against the mattress to relieve the ache in his cock.

“God, yes, so good, please-,” you blabbered, voice getting more high pitched the closer you got to the edge.

Finally, you came with a moan, clamping down on his fingers and gushing all over his face, coating his beard and mouth in your release. He came too, without realizing it, filling your lace panties in his cum like he’d done a million times before.

You stayed like that, you sprawled on the bed, Steve leaning against the headboard and Bucky slumped against your bed for what felt like hours, until you’d all caught your breath.

You turned your head to the side, reaching for his face, cradling him in your palm. He nuzzled your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your wrist.

“You’ve done so well, baby boy,” you slurred, “I hope you liked your Christmas gift.”

He nodded, feeling his eyelids grow heavy, wanting nothing more than hold you in his arms, and being held by you.

“Hm, now get the Hell out of ‘ere,” you mumbled, “you both do. I need my sleep.”

With that, you rolled over, pulling the sheets over your naked body, leaving a dumbfounded Bucky and an amused Steve.

“Well, Merry Christmas, pal,” Steve chuckled, patting on his shoulder as he brushed past him, clothes in hand.

Bucky stayed frozen until he heard the front door shut, and tiptoed his way out, trying to wrap his head around the last few hours.

A Merry fuckin’ Christmas indeed, but Bucky wasn’t complaining.

-

Please reblog and leave some feedback! It means so much to me 🥺❤️

[wtnrscap]

Game of Survival.

Pairings – Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Summary- This is a wild game of survival.

Warnings- Angst. Violence and trauma. Psychological fear. Not a happy ending.

A/N- Just wanna quickly apologise for this, I have been teasing this story for just over a year now, and it has not wanted to be written. I open the document and nothing comes to mind, but I finally finished this morning, so hopefully, my writer's block is finally gone. My original author's note is included below.

Another songfic, this time to one of my favourite songs. Yeah, not a happy ending… Oops. This is heavily based on the scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 where they’re running from the snatchers. Spoilers next! Also, the end is based on Age of Ultron when Natasha gets taken.

Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play?

Hairs prickle on the back of her neck and she snaps her head to the right, uncertainty coursing through her veins. A hesitant step forward and a twig snaps underfoot, echoing through the dense woodland. The silence is deafening, fog hindering her vision. Movement in the corner of her eye stirs her and birds screech, flying high into the sky. A whimper escapes her mouth as she realizes that to whoever is out there, this is a game, testing her limits.

She takes a step back, pressing her back to the bark of a tree, her finger pressed to her ear, “Anyone on comms? Is anyone there?”

Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey?

Static and she feels like crying.

She is alone. Lost in the woods, being hunted like some sort of animal. But that is what they are, aren’t they? Avengers saving the day, but when it comes down to it, the team is made up of uncontrollable animals.

She tries again but the comm remains static. She sinks to the floor, the wet mud seeping through her suit but really, that is the least of her worries. Instinct reminds her of a presence behind the trees directly in front of her. One body. She can deal with that. As she takes a deep breath, preparing herself for what she must do, a rustling behind her runs her blood to ice. Two bodies. Maybe more. Nothing she cannot handle…

There's no surrender And there's no escape,

One in front, one behind. Could be more advancing from the sides. She wouldn’t know, the woodland is too thick for that. Add on the fog and rapidly decreasing daylight and the odds are not in her favour.

Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey?

A crash to her left makes her jump up and spin, gun pointed into the unknown. The noise gets louder, something coming towards her, fast, and by the sounds of it, big. She braces for impact, ready to fight for her life.

This is a wild game of survival.

Steve Rogers bursts through the undergrowth panting heavily. His shield is strapped to his back, his suit is torn, revealing bare skin and he’s covered in sweat, blood and mud. He doesn’t register the gun or her state of disarray. His eyes are wild as he grabs her arm tightly, “Run! They’re coming! Don’t look back, just run! Run!”

There is a moment of calm before the storm. Then, she obeys him, sprinting after him as branches hit her, suit tearing, adrenaline seeping out of every pore. She doesn’t know what they are running from, but if it scares Steve, it scares her.

This is a wild game of survival.

The mission was supposed to be simple, in and out, scout and disable. The whole team minus Thor had been drafted, but that was more of a precaution. The Siberian base had been a hideout for Hydra, having holstered a few Winter Soldiers and mad scientists in its time. Steve and Bucky had led the charge, followed by Natasha, Clint, and Sam. She had followed with Wanda while Tony and Bruce were holding fort at the Quinjet, watching the screens.

The next part was a little hazy for her. She and Wanda had entered a room full of files. She had picked up a box labelled W.S.A and fingered through them. Nothing unusual, just files on Winter Soldiers. A thought of there being a lot of files for a base that had only held no more than seven Winter Soldiers crossed her mind, but she didn’t delve into it. Then, darkness. Just like that. No pain, no sense of an impending attack, just darkness. She woke up in the woods, who knows how much later, alone and afraid.

This is a wild game.

Noises reverberate around her as she runs blindly, gunfire, other bodies running, the occasional yelp of pain. Branches scrape her arms and hit her face, and she’s in pain, so much pain, but she can’t stop. If she stops, they get her. A break in the trees beckons her, and she breaks into the open, following the super-soldier. In the open he is a blur, racing miles ahead of her as his hand lifts to his ear, “Tony, bring the Quinjet round, we need to get out of here now!”

There’s silence, then an awkward crackle, “Rogers, what did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter, Stark!”

“It does matter Rogers, just look around you!”

She stops and spins on her heel, her heart in her mouth. Running behind her was Wanda, Nat, Bucky and Clint, and behind them…

Oh.

W.S.A.

Winter Soldier Army.

That makes sense.

This is a wild game, game of survival.

Charging towards them like moths to a flame are men, women, even children, their eyes dead and cold, wearing all black tac suits. Some carry weapons, others do not, but it’s clear from their speed and strength that they have some sort of super-soldier serum. She knows they can’t outrun them, there’s far too many for that, but if they are caught, they are dead. No doubt.

Bucky races past her, his long hair flying out behind him as he grabs her hand, “No time to look back, doll face,” and she is dragged away, stumbling after him as super-soldier speed kicks in. She can barely keep up, but out of the corner of her eye, she sees the Winter Soldiers gaining ground on them, flocking like wasps out of their nest, dangerous and deadly.

This is a wild game.

In the distance, the Quinjet appears, flying low over the trees before hovering inches above the grass. Steve jumps onto the ramp and turns, watching as Wanda uses her powers to fly onto the jet. Clint, ever the show-off uses an arrow to swing onto the jet, holding Nat to his side, a quick salute and a wink to the unimpressed Captain. Sam swoops in, yelping as a soldier takes a swipe at his legs. Further from the jet than he’d like, Bucky’s hand slips from her as she trips. He barely has time to react before Steve grabs his upper arm, pulling him onto the jet as it begins to float backwards.

“Come on! Run, you have to run!” Bucky yells, his hand outstretched to hers. Their fingers brush, and Bucky’s close, missing her hand by inches. She feels a breath on the back of her neck and forces a burst of speed. She can’t breathe, her lungs are exploding as her hair whips her face, falling out of its updo. She can’t do this, she can’t do this, she can’t do this.

“You can do this, you’re so close, come on!” Bucky’s voice is like a beacon, pulling her in. But it isn’t enough.

“She isn’t going to make it,” Tony’s voice comes through the comms, “We’re running out of space, I need to pull up, we’re going to hit the forest.”

This is a wild game, game of survival.

Bucky’s eyes meet hers and he takes a deep breath, “Doll, you need to jump! You don’t have a choice, otherwise, you’re not making it. I’ll catch you; I promise. I’ll always catch you.”

She trusts him, she knows that and steadies herself for what she must do. A hand pushes her back and she knows it’s time. Now or never.

Her feet leave the ground as she leaps, and she screams, pure adrenaline fuelling her as exhaustion and pain coarse through her body. She’s giving everything she’s got, and there’s nothing left.

Like some sort of movie, it all happens in slow motion as she flies, Bucky’s arms outstretched, ready to catch her, and she closes her eyes. She trusts him to catch her, he has before, and he will again.

Bucky’s arms brush her waist, and for one blissful moment, she thinks they’ve done it. Everything will be okay.

A second set of arms curls around her waist, pulling her backwards, and she screams as she falls out of the Quinjet in the arms of a Winter Soldier. Bucky yells, leaping forward only to be pulled back by Steve, Tony pulls the Quinjet up, narrowly missing the trees.

Hovering above the field, the team watches in horror as hundreds upon hundreds of Winter Soldiers descend on her. A shrill scream breaks out, bone-chilling and full of pain. It’s snuffed out quickly, and Bucky yells again, punching a dent into the side of the Quinjet, “We have to go back down!”

“Bucky… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Bucky turns on Steve, anger like he’s never felt before releasing out of every pore, “My wife is likely dead because of you. You don’t get to say anything.”

“Don’t blame Steve, it’s not all his fault!” Sam interjects, and Bucky clenches his fist, “You’re right. It’s my fault. I promised I’d catch her, and I didn’t. I failed her. I’ll face the consequences.”

The Quinjet falls silent as Bucky walks to the corner, an incredible weight bearing down on him as he opens his phone and selects facetime. It rings too many times before a little face appears on the screen, “Daddy!”

“Hey princess! We’re heading home now. I miss you.”

The little girl shows a toothy grin, “I miss you too, Daddy. Where’s Mummy?”

Bucky tries not to flinch, “She’s sleeping. I don’t want to wake her.”

“Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bucky’s heart shatters slightly, knowing what’s coming next. It’s the same thing that comes whenever little Nat can’t talk to her mother, “Tell Mummy I love her.”

Bucky smiles weakly, “She knows, Princess, she knows.”

The line goes dead, and Bucky hates it. He hates everything, and he will get revenge. Hydra took everything from him, but he refuses to let them take you without a fight. This isn’t the end.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hiii! I hope you’re doing well!

I was wondering if we could see a sneak peek of your nat x reader fic? I’ve been so excited watching it climb the prompt list!

Hi anon! I'm working on a solid portion of it today, but I do have some of it written! Not much interaction yet with reader, but I've started building the scene! Here's a sneak peek:

"Natasha you're looking lovely today, as always."

"Oh, here we go." Nat rolled her eyes, a slight grin pulling at her lips as Tony swanned into the kitchen. His jaw went slightly slack in an expression of mock indignance, holding a hand to his chest.

"Ouch. I thought you liked me, Romanoff."

"Conditionally."

"You boys need to keep your hands out of the food," Wanda chastised from her place in front of the stove.

"Boys?" you asked in confusion, glancing over toward Wanda to find Steve and Bucky had also since meandered into the kitchen and were eyeing the fresh baked bread.

"Damn she's good," Steve muttered, turning away from the bread with his hands up in surrender. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head or something?"

"I have to if I'm going to keep you boys out of my appetizers before we even make it to 3 o'clock," Wanda retorted, turning to wag her spoon at the super soldiers.

"Oh, so it's just the appetizers that are off limits?" Tony quipped, looking Natasha in the eye as he backed toward the desserts that had been set out to cool. Nat stepped forward and swatted his hand away from the tiramisu with a sharp slapping sound. Tony winced. "Ow, no need to make things violent!"

"Yeah, we just want a little taste." Bucky paced carefully over to the long kitchen island where the cranberry sauce sat in a glass bowl. Before he could reach over to dip his finger into the mixture, Nat had slapped his hand away as well. He shook his hand with a grunt. "Yeouch, what the hell? What are you, the kitchen police or something?"

"Hmm. I kind of like the sound of that, actually," she responded with a smirk. "What do you think, Wanda?"

"Please. Anything to keep these boys out of my hair."

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard @delightfulheartdream @justasmisunderstoodasloki @marvels-mischief @k8obr @pastyoverlord265 @lowkeytesss @levylovegood

Taglist for this fic only: @littleredstarfish @treblebeth @taylordani03

[knivesareout]

Day and Night For You

Pairing: Steve Murphy x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut! (18+ ONLY!) Fingering, Oral (fem receiving), spanking, ass play, squirting, breathplay, cock warming, unprotected sex.

A/N: Aaaand another one. Started this on Tuesday and now we’re here. Am I a writer now? Who can say at this point- it’s only two fics and a couple drabbles. You can also read it on AO3 here.

Summary: Settling in to watch a movie with Steve takes a turn when you can’t stop your mind from wandering and he confronts you about it. 

Your husband coming home with enough time to eat dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed at the same time as you had become a rare occurrence lately. Having Steve sitting next to you on the couch was something you wanted to soak in, your body pressed tightly against his side as you two watch a movie. 

You were vaguely aware enough of the plot playing out on screen that if Steve were to ask you questions later on, you could answer, but your real focus was on him. The steady breathing of his chest, the roughness of his fingertips tracing along your bare thigh. The atmosphere had lulled you into a comfortable feeling- at least until you heard someone yelling on screen, your head perking up at the loud voice.

Watching as the male character pushes his wife against the wall with his hand around her throat, you swallow slowly. The scene was something you were no stranger to in your personal life; not with how dominant Steve was in the bedroom. But lately you’d barely managed a quickie most nights before he was out like a light, exhausted from work and snoring lightly in your ear. The fault was hardly his own; trying to catch Escobar was proving no easy task and you were willing to do whatever little you could to help Steve in supporting him.

Your thighs rub together as the scene escalates, the couple moving to the bedroom and you sigh, biting at your lip. The movement of Steve’s hand on your thigh stops and you peer up at him, a question in your eye.

“What’s wrong?”

“Could ask you the same thing, honey. You’re over there making all kinds of noises and I’m just tryin’ to watch this. Everything alright?”

You simper with a nod, looking pointedly at the screen. “I’m okay, promise. Let’s just finish the movie.” Patting his thigh, you turn your focus back to the screen where you’ve managed to completely miss the passionate scene between the couple and you make sure not to make a disappointed noise, less Steve question you again.

—–

The film ends an hour later and you’re no less horny than you were before. Nothing but images of Steve’s hand around your throat fill your mind and you can feel the stickiness between your thighs as you stand up and stretch, the oversized t-shirt from your alma mater lifting up around your hips before dropping down again. Steve’s yawning into his fist and looks exhausted, his body heavily pressed into the couch and if he could sink into it, you’re sure he would.

“Come on then big guy, let’s get you to bed before you fuck up your back by passing out on the couch,” you tease, offering him a hand that he takes gratefully. 

Steve grunts, reaching out to pinch your hip. “That was one time, damnit. Will you ever let me live it down?”

You bat his hands away with a grin, moving around to turn off the lights in the living room before heading towards your bedroom. “Nope,” you tell him easily, turning around as you stand in the doorway and wait for him to stand in front of you. “You alright though?” Steve’s looking at you with an expression you’re not familiar with, his eyes bright and posture stiff, almost like he’s vibrating with the need to move.

“You know I can smell you right?”

Your posture falters and you almost choke on your tongue, glancing up at Steve with a question in your eyes. The blunt query has your mind in a scramble as you try to find the words to answer him and he doesn’t seem to like that as he steps closer and you’re toe to toe. 

Steve inhales deeply before speaking, his hand coming up to take your chin between his fingers and lock your gaze with his. “Can’t even enjoy a movie without you being a needy little thing,” he tuts, dragging a thumb across your bottom lip and you have to stop yourself from pulling the digit into your mouth. “Have I been neglecting you?”

The question is a genuine one, no teasing tone to be found, and you’re almost hesitant to answer, hoping that maybe your explanation will shed some light on how you’ve feeling. “No, not really. I just miss you. Miss when we used to take our time with each other is all.” You shrug, hoping you give off the appearance of being aloof rather than touch starved like you actually were.

It’s clear Steve appreciates the honesty as he nods in understanding, gripping your chin a bit tighter. “M’sorry about that sweetheart. How about I make it up to you, yeah? Let me take my time with you tonight.”

Your head nods so quickly it’s almost comical, your body shaking with a need so overwhelmingly intense you could cry. The promise of relief, no matter how long it’ll take to get there, is something you’re willing to do anything for and Steve can see it written across your face as you watch his every move.

Steve walks you back into your room, your steps careful as you maneuver towards your shared bed, feeling the back of your calves hit the foot of the bed frame and you fall onto the mattress, hands reaching behind you to catch your fall. 

“You’ve been teasing me all night, honey. Shorts so short I can’t even see them under your shirt, your nipples hard all night. And then I realized half way through the movie I could smell you. What part turned you on so much that I’d bet you’re soaked between those pretty little thighs of yours, hm?”

The low timbre of Steve’s voice makes your whole body warm as he looms over you, waiting for an answer. His large hands are sat on his hips, gaze trained on you and the way your body shifts to seek any sort of friction. His eyes follow your every move and it makes you nervous, teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

Normally you would play coy with him, shrug and say you didn’t know, but with how worked up you were it seemed silly to do anything but be completely blunt. “His hand around her throat,” you explain, placing your hands on your thighs and moving them up until you reach the top of your shorts and tug them down along with your underwear. “It made me miss your fingers pushing into my neck, Steve. Squeezing so hard I’d soak the sheets when you make me cum.” Kicking the material to the side, you spread your legs wide for him, head pushed into the plush pillows behind you.

You watch his eyes as your hands trail along the soft skin of the inside of your thighs, anticipating his next move. It’s hard for you to tell what he’s thinking, his facial expression neutral and the lack of light in the room has you at a disadvantage. 

“Steve, please.” 

In a flash, Steve grabs hold of your ankle and yanks you down the bed as you yelp in surprise, your legs hanging off the side as his hand comes around your throat. “Still want to be a tease?” He growls, thumb pressing into the skin so hard you’ll be surprised if there isn’t a bruise there in the morning. 

The pressure is electrifying. Your whole body is lit up, every nerve at attention as he holds his hand there. You crave this feeling from time to time, the clear show of authority that Steve has over your body the biggest turn on. Managing to shake your head, he loosens his grip around you and you try to catch your breath before he’s on you, turning your body around and pressing your face into the mattress. 

“You know all you have to do is ask for what you want, honey. I know I haven’t been the most attentive husband lately but I’ll always make time for you,” Steve promises, words sweet and contrasting with the way he’s man-handled you on the mattress; your ass up high and cheek squished into the comforter below you. 

You don’t dare move as you hear the rustling of fabric, assuming Steve’s undressing behind you. It’s torture as you wait for him to do something, anything, your hands curling into the blanket beneath you so they don’t stray.  

Steve’s hands are rough against your ass as he palms the flesh, pulling apart your cheeks only to slide one of his hands away to slap it, jolting you forward at the contact. You whimper as he touches you, both of his hands back on your bottom and fingers inching closer towards where you need him most. The inside of your thighs are sticky with arousal and you push your ass out for more, a silent plea for Steve to do something. 

“So god damn needy, aren’t you?” Steve runs a dry finger across your exposed asshole and you let out a shaky breath, the feeling unexpected but pleasant. It’d been too long since you both had time for something like that but you don’t hold out too much hope as the finger then drops lower to slide between the lips of your soaked pussy. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, sweetheart. It’s all down your thighs. Pussy actin’ like I haven’t touched it in days.” You whine as he pulls his finger away but it quickly turns into a moan as his hand hits your ass again, the flesh stinging from where his palm hit you.

“Steve, please. Please, please, please,” you beg him, your voice desperate and needy as your hips sway in a taunt for him to give you more. 

His hands grip your hips tightly as he turns you over and presses you higher up on the bed, your body trying to orient itself as he crawls up the mattress towards you. It’s like a hunter stalking its prey, the way his eyes follow your every movement and you whimper, holding your body still as you wait for his next step.

Steve parts your thighs wide for him as he settles between your legs, the warmth of his mouth instantaneous on your skin when he drops his lips to kiss along the sensitive inner part of your thighs. The hairs of his mustache scratch along your body and you sigh into the feeling, your hand reaching out to card through his blonde hair. 

“Tell me what you want,” Steve murmurs quietly against your thigh, his mouth close to your throbbing cunt and you can feel the heat radiating from his breath as he speaks.

“Want your mouth on my pussy, want you to make me cum so hard I cry.” Your words are quick and almost sound like they’re meshed together, your tongue heavy in your mouth. 

You can feel the vibrations as Steve hums against your thigh, sounding like he’s considering your request. His fingers part the lips of your pussy, exposing your heat to the cool air of your bedroom. Your fists clench into the comforter beneath you, trying to ground yourself as you anticipate his next move and once his tongue laps at your clit in broad strokes, you cry out in relief. 

The feeling is like a match to gasoline, your body arching into his mouth in search of more. It’s hot and wet, the sounds of him lapping at your sex filling the room and you wail once a finger slips into you. Steve is relentless in the way his long, thick finger fucks into you and he easily slips in another two, stuffing you full. The pressure is too much, his hands working you like an instrument he’s played his whole life, plucking at your body like strings. “You gonna soak me baby? I can feel the way you’re tightening around my fingers.” Steve moves to sit up and you gasp as his fingers find the angle that you’d been desperate for him to touch. 

There’s a pressure building in your lower stomach, the feeling familiar. It swells, threatening to crash over you. You will your body to let go, to welcome the tidal wave begging to consume you.

It’s too much and not enough all at once as his pace picks up, your body all but forcing his fingers out as you gush over his hand, on the sheets, and across his chest. Your body shakes as you come down and you blink quickly, trying to clear your vision. There’s a dull throbbing between your thighs that are now coated in a light wetness and you sigh in satisfaction.

If you had the energy to reach up and smack Steve, you would’ve. The smug smirk on his face was infuriating but your orgasm had left you boneless and it was clear he knew that. 

“You’re not tapping out already, are ya?” He teases, fingers lightly trailing across the inside of your still trembling thighs. “Cause I was thinkin’ of how much I wanna slide inside your pussy and fuck you until I fill you up and just stay there, plugging you up with my cum until it takes hold. Do you want that, pretty girl?”

His words render you still. It wasn’t something you both had talked about recently- going bareback. You weren’t on birth control, something with your insurance getting mixed up on the move down to Colombia. And if condoms weren’t used, or Steve didn’t pull out, there was a high probability of you falling pregnant. The last time it’d been discussed was right before your move and how you two wanted to wait until you were back in the States before you started trying to start a family, not wanting to add a child into what was an already high stress environment.  

Tilting your head in question at Steve, you wonder what he’s thinking. He seems so nonchalant about what he’s said, his hand stroking along the hard length of his cock while he waits for your answer- almost like he’s thought about it before now. God, do you want it. There’s nothing better than the feeling of Steve’s cum dripping down your thighs, him stuffing you full of his seed and marking you as his. 

You nod slowly in answer, a breathy sigh passing your lips at the thought of him filling you up after months of shitty condoms. “I want that. I want you to fill me up, Steve. Please.”

The sound of him stroking his slick cock fills the room and you watch as he shuffles on his knees until he’s close enough to rub the wet head against your clit, your body instinctively scooting down in search of more. You’re still sensitive, chest shuddering as he continues to torture you. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked baby. Could just slide right in,” Steve teases, the head of his cock catching on your entrance only to slide back up to your clit.

“I want it. I want your cock. Fuck,” you groan, fisting the sheets in your hands. “Want your cum so bad, Steve. Come on.” 

The hand that was resting on your hip comes up to press against your throat again, your head tilting back to give him more room. Your body arches into his touch and Steve slowly puts more pressure against your neck as he finally slides his cock into the soaked walls of your pussy, the feeling nothing but euphoric. 

Steve’s cock fits inside of you like a glove. Long and thick, stretching you in the most delicious way. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of him buried deep inside of you and you relish in the feeling until he starts to move.

His thrusts are slow at first, the long drag of his dick making you shudder beneath him. The palm of his hand is still pressed to your throat and you push down on the back of his hand a little, silently asking for more. 

A dark chuckle escapes Steve’s lips and he hunches forward, pressing down against your neck. “My dirty little baby, aren’t you? Just wanted a dick inside of ya and my hand pressed to your throat, that’s all.” 

It’s difficult to nod but you manage, sucking in a breath as he lets off a bit and starts thrusting in earnest. Steve’s movements are languid, meticulous. He’s hitting every spot that makes your body feel electric, like a live wire ready to explode at the right touch. 

“Steve, touch me. Fuck,” you draw out, his hips pulling out just enough to leave the tip of his cock inside of you before thrusting back in to start a more brutal, rough pace. 

“You like that honey?” He asks, the hand not around your throat coming down between your thighs to rub at your clit in slow strokes. “You wanna cum? Want me to fill you up and put a baby in ya? Stuff you so full of me you’ll be dripping all night?”

Nodding, you cry out in need. It’s too much, the push and pull of his cock coupled with his hand around your throat and the rough pad of his thumb on your clit. Your body locks up and you start pulsing around him, your orgasm crashing around you like a wave, drowning you. There’s a ringing in your ears and you’re vaguely aware of Steve’s rough grunting as he plows into you in search of his own release. 

“Fuck, gonna fuck you so full of my cum that you’re leaking. You feel so good, baby. Pussy so tight,” Steve rasps out, his hips stuttering as he falls apart above you. Mouth open, eyes clenched shut, your husband is a sight as he cums deep and hot inside of you, shuddering through his release.

Your hands run up and down his back in a soothing motion as he comes down, his own hands falling to the sides to catch himself above you, head dropping to your shoulder. “Fuck that was good,” he laughs, lips kissing along your collarbone and up to your cheek where he rests the tip of his nose.

Turning your head slightly, you brush your nose against his. “So. A baby huh?” The question is teasing, light, but deep down you really want to know what was going through his head to bring that up in the middle of some long overdue sex.

“Just been on my mind a lot,” he sighs, sliding a hand underneath your back to pull your body with his as he rolls over, his cock still nestled inside of you. “With everything goin’ on it just makes me realize that shit isn’t guaranteed and I want that with you. Always have. A family; little ones with your hair and my nose.”

You listen, running a hand across his face- up the slope of his nose, smoothing out the furrow between his brow and then up into his hair where you scratch gingerly at his scalp. 

“I should’ve said something before instead of springing that up in the middle of sex but it was like something snapped in me. ‘M sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, baby. Was just a bit of a shock is all,” you promise, hand sliding behind his neck and rubbing under the base of his skull to further relax him. “You know I’ve always wanted that with you too.”

Steve nods, pushing his head into your touch. “I know.”

Shifting your hips, you grimace at the sticky feeling between your legs but make no effort to move beyond trying to get more comfortable as you sprawl across your husband’s broad chest and glance up at him, a fond look written across his face as he looks back at you.

“You know, if we sleep now I might wake up in time for another round before I have to go in for work,” Steve grins, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You don’t even reply, just lay your head against his chest where his heart lies beneath your ear and start to snore over exaggeratedly, giggling to yourself.

“I love you, baby,” he reminds you quietly, arms wrapping tightly to your middle. 

Yawning, you close your eyes. “I love you too.”