#Wanda can smell both fear and bullshit

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Day 746

Y/N: “Good night!”

Wanda: “Get some sleep PLEASE!”

Agatha, with the daring confidence only someone about to have the most ruckus of nights and with zero intentions of sleep can muster: “Of course!”

Wanda: “Anyways, I’m gonna…huh - what’s that smell?”

Y/N and Agatha: *sniffing*

Wanda: “It’s some bullshit. At least a good night to me.”

[oops-aquarius]

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

--

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s. 

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you. 

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size. 

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick. 

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.” 

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly. 

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close. 

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt. 

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

[sleepingspacedragon]

This Bitch...

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Summary: Bucky’s an ass and you’re not amused.

Word count: 678 (would you look at that?).

Warnings: Swearing, I guess fluff? Sass for sure.

A/N: Caffeine got me so here we are, back to writing. I’m rusty, so sorry for that. This is a submission for Gab’s 1K Writing Challenge @morsmordrethings, prompt will be bolded.

“You got to be kidding me.”

You slammed the door and took a deep breath. It had to have been him, the sneaky bastard, everyone else was on a mission and Wanda would never. You started down the hall towards the TV room where you were sure you’d find him.

Clink. The soft sound of metal on porcelain. Oh, he was a dead man.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” The crash that followed your scream confirmed your suspicions.

“Yes, doll?” He tried his best to sound nonchalant, but you could feel the tremor in his voice. You rounded the corner with your hands on your hips, eyes blazing. He was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by white shards and a spatter of telltale crumbs.

“Hey, babe” your eyes narrowed as you emphasised the second word. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a slice of chocolate cake I left in the fridge, would you babe? You know, the last slice?” His eyes widened and you could smell the fear. He knew he was a dead man.

“Nope. Have you asked Wanda?” He tried to shrug but you could see him preparing to bolt.

“I really don’t think I need to, babe.”

You had to admire the effort, really. But even if he was stronger than you, which he definitely was, you were faster and, at that moment, absolutely seething. He had no chance.

“I’m sorry, doll, I really am. Come on, I’ll buy you a whole cake, let’s go, right now.” The whine was accompanied by his flesh hand tapping on your thigh where you had him pinned to the floor, the metal one bent so far up his back you might have worried about breaking it… if you weren’t so mad. You twisted it a little further and relished in the resulting whimper.

“Natasha brought it from Belgium during the last mission, you absolute dickwad. For my fucking birthday.” He sighed in defeat and smacked his forehead softly against the floor.

“I know, I know. And I really am sorry. It wasn’t that good though. I’ll get you a better one, doll, I promise.” With one last last twist of his arm, just for good measure, you let go of him.

You should have gotten up quickly, but hindsight is 20/20. In a blink he had you on your back, your arms pinned over your head and his nose nuzzling yours.

“That hurt, doll.” He said with a pout. You scoffed and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Bullshit.”

He gasped.

“Language, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows almost hit your hairline.

“Seriously? You were in the Army, bitch.” He let out a throaty laugh and dropped his full weight on you.

“Get off me, you asshole.” It came out as a pathetic squeak, yes, but the man was heavy and he was fucking giggling.

“Make me.”

You managed to pull a leg from under him and kneed him in the ribs. He rolled off you, cackling and clutching his sides. You huffed, got on your feet and extended a hand to help him up. He took that as permission to throw his arm over your shoulders as he dragged you towards the elevator.

“There’s still a broken plate on the floor, you know.” He shrugged and pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Sam can take care of that when they get back. I owe my girl a cake.” He said with a wink. You sighed and rubbed your temples. You really were going to kill him one day.

“It better be the best fucking cake I’ve ever had, James, or I swear you’re dead.” He opened his mouth, a teasing glint in his eyes, but shut it when you smacked his chest. “And don’t you fucking dare ‘language’ me, old man, you’re worse than me.”

He pulled you to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“No one’s worse than you, doll.” He said, smiling down at you.

A warm feeling came over you both. He might be a dead man, yes, but he was your dead man.

[silverarmedassassin]

Vlogmas Day 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2,232 Warnings: Disgustingly sweet Bucky. Feelings of self-doubt and all-around relationship insecurity. Summary: You’re a prominent YouTuber. You’re also dating one of the most popular of the Avengers. What happens when you decide to merge these two aspects of your life? Christmas content, that’s what.

2019 Christmas Masterlist 

“Uh, is this thing on?” 

Bucky is fumbling with the camera you had meticulously set up on the opposite side of your kitchen island. You’d somehow convinced him to star in one of your Christmas videos this year, despite the fact he still wasn’t entirely sure what exactly you do with them. You were just happy he was trying to embrace the tech-centered side of your life

“You don’t need to stand so close,” you giggle as you finish setting out various Christmas candies. Tonight, you’d be filming a gingerbread house decorating competition video with him, and you did not shy away from getting all the fixings. “In fact, I’m going to need you to step away from the camera before you ruin my setup!”

Bucky peers into the little lens once more before he turns back to make his way around the island. You shake your head as he stops to give you a chaste kiss before settling in next to you. “Such a sap,” you whisper under your breath, knowing full well he can hear you. Adding a little louder for the camera, “I’m leaving that in for my viewers to see, I hope you know. Gotta let everyone know you’re not as big and scary as you try to come off.”

Bucky grasps at his chest feigning hurt, sending a cheeky wink towards the camera. “Just don’t tell Sam, I’ll never live it down.”

You roll your eyes and smile before getting serious again. It was already ten at night and you knew this was entire process was going to take at least two hours. You were antsy to get this filmed and over with so that you could get some cuddle time with your man. Bucky had been gone for a week, so there was a lot of time to make up for.

You double-check that the little red light is still on, indicating that the camera is still recording, and take a breath. “So, just a warning, this is going to seem a little...weird.” You’d never felt self-conscious about your YouTube channel when it came to Bucky. Even though he didn’t really understand what you did or how it allowed you to make money, he still supported it. He never had much interest in watching your videos, not that the content was relevant to his life anyway, so the persona you put on for the camera was more than likely going to be a shock for him. 

“I uh, act a little different on camera, just to let you know. Not like fake or anything, but a little more high-energy than you’re probably used to seeing. And honestly I’m a little nervous doing this with you, in front of you, so like, I’m sorry if you’re weirded out by everything. I promise I’ll never make you do another video again if you don’t want to an-”

“Baby, shh,” Bucky cuts of your rambling, rubbing a hand up and down your arm in comfort. “You know I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to. And anyway,” he adds with a snicker, “I may have unintentionally overheard Wanda watching a video or two a few weeks back so this isn’t going to be anything new.” 

You can feel the pink spread up your neck and onto your cheeks. Even though it made you feel a little better about getting started, you were still slightly embarrassed that he had heard one of your videos without you knowing. You take a deep breath in an attempt to center yourself before looking back at Bucky. “Okay then. Ready?” He gives a quick nod and you start in on your spiel. 

“Hi everyone! Welcome back to my channel and happy holidays!” You internally cringe at how overly excited and fake your voice sounds. “Today I have a very, very special guest with me. This is James-”

Bucky snorts, cutting you off before you can continue. “Since when do you call me James?”

You huff half-heartedly but smile and wrap your arms around his muscular middle. “Or, as the rest of the world knows him, Bucky Barnes!” You turn to him fully then, poking a finger to his chest. “No more interrupting or I’m going to have to start this over until it’s perfect.”

Bucky grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. “Everything you do is perfect, doll.”

“You’re only sweet talkin’ me ‘cause you know I’m going to kick your ass at this decorating!”

You don’t leave room for him to argue, however, immediately turning your attention back to the camera. 

“Today, after some begging and promising of all the leftover candy, Bucky has agreed to debut his YouTube skills in a friendly gingerbread house competition.” You reach for the pre-made gingerbread house you’d already unpackaged and nod at Bucky to do the same for his. “Here are the very plain, very pitiful houses we’ll be working with today.”

“Are you sure these are edible?” Bucky asks as he leans down to inspect his a little further. He crinkles his nose as he straightens back up. “It smells like plastic.”

“The goal of this is not to eat the house, dear. It’s to kick your butt and show my viewers that I’m the superior house decorator!”

“That’s so wasteful.” He begins in on one of his ‘I lived through the Depression’ speeches before abruptly stopping. “You really think you can beat me at this, don’t you?” He narrows his eyes at you and you can’t help but laugh. 

You lean up on your tippy-toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I still love you, though.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but smiles and leans into the kiss. He can’t stay even remotely annoyed when you’re around. 

“Anyway,” you say turning back to the camera, “the premise of this is pretty simple. We’re each going to decorate our respective house, and at the end, you, the viewers, are going to vote for who’s is the best by commenting.” You turn to look at Bucky then. “That way it’s a fair victory.”

Twenty-minutes and a lot of giggles and candy-eating later, you’re both adding the finishing touches on your houses. You had to admit, Bucky’s didn’t look that bad. He had made a fair point earlier, mentioning that he did attend a few art classes with Steve before he was drafted for the war. He’d drawn a little pattern on the roof of his house with the frosting, embellishing it with peppermint candies and a few hot chocolate Kisses. Yours, however, did have a gumdrop garden, and that had to give you some points, right?

You were watching Bucky in your peripheral, could see how concentrated he was hunched over his little gingerbread creation. He was focusing so hard on placing mini M&Ms along the roof. “Like those Christmas lights Tony puts on his cabin!” he had exclaimed when the idea popped in his head. He didn’t even notice when you stopped working on your own decorating and turned your full attention to him. 

It still surprised you, sometimes, that this mass of a man, once the world’s most successful and feared assassin, was really just a big softy. It made your heart want to burst to know that you were one of the lucky few who got to see this side of Bucky all the time. It felt like your own little secret world and now that you thought about it, you were a little nervous to give this side of him away, even just through a video. 

“You know,” you say nervously as you go back to piping frosting haphazardly around the house. “A lot of people are probably going to see this video…” 

“Mhhm?” Bucky responds but doesn’t dare break his concentration.

“Like, maybe 570,000…” You bite your lip when he glances up at you, bright blue eyes asking the question he isn’t going to verbalize. “So?” you can hear him say. “I’m just a little...scared isn’t the word, but neither is nervous. I mean, this is going to be the first time any of my subscribers are going to learn about you. We’ve kind of lived in this little world for what, a year and a half and I’m scared it’s going to change when I post this.”

Bucky set down the bowl of candies then as turned his full attention on you. “You mean you’ve never mentioned me before?”

“I mean, I’ve insinuated I have a boyfriend, and Tweet about you all the time.” You smile then, knowing Bucky’s full-out hate for the social platform. “But I’ve never mentioned you by name before. Not even what you do.” 

A hint of something flashes across Bucky’s face. Disappointment? His own fear? You’re not sure, but you can already guess where his mind is going. “It’s not because I’m embarrassed by you if that’s what you’re thinking! I guess I just...I didn’t want you or your friends, or even my followers to think I’m just using you for views or subscribers. Because I’m not. I love you, really love you, and the whole influencer or whatever bullshit side of my life doesn’t even come to mind when I think of you.”

You shrug, not sure where you’re going exactly with the spiel. “I just don’t want the introduction into this side of my life to change anything, I guess.”

Bucky reaches out to rub a comforting hand up and down your arm before fully enveloping you in a hug. "Hey now, since I've known you I've never once seen you care so much about what other people think." 

He pulls away just enough to look down at you. "Trust me, I know how hard it is to not pay attention to what other people are saying about you, but you can't listen to them. The only thing that matters, especially in our relationship, is what we think about each other. And right now I'm thinking about how cute you look with frosting on your nose."

You reach up and rub at your nose, confused when you pull away with a clean hand. "Wha-?"

Before you can register what he's doing, Bucky is smearing a glob of the sugary paste across your nose. "See, just as cute as I thought!"

You swat at him as he leans in to kiss you, but you easily relent. Leave it to Buck to take a sour situation and make it sweet.

You practically bolt from the elevator when it stops on the residential floor of the Tower. You’d called Bucky about 20 minutes ago making sure he was home, and when he said he didn’t have anything planned for the day, hightailed it the few blocks from your apartment. 

You peer around the open-concept living area and spot the super-soldier in question. You basically launch yourself at his unsuspecting form lying belly-down on the couch. “Bucky!”

“Do-” You cut him off as you jump on top of his wide back. 

“I have news,” you see as you lean over to look him in the face, hair creating a curtain around your faces. “Good and bad. What do you want first?”

Bucky chuckles as he maneuvers you so that he can roll over to face you. “Uh, good I guess..?”

I lean down and peck his lips before kissing the tip of his nose just because you can. “My viewers love you. In fact, they think you’re the best thing that’s ever been on my channel. To hell with me, they only want to see you!” You’re not entirely sure why this makes you so happy. You already knew everyone was going to love him, how could they not? But the reality of it all, the fact that he is not officially part of every aspect of your life makes you giddy. 

Bucky laughs, really laughs, and you can tell how happy that makes him. Acceptance is still something he struggles with and, even though he didn’t let it show when you were filming, he was definitely nervous about the entire thing. “And the bad news?”

You cross your arms and give your best pout, but you already know Bucky can see right through it. “All this love for you also means that you win.” You huff when his eyes light up. 

“Yes!” Bucky shoots his metal arm into the air, almost knocking you off his lap. “I knew it! And you said you were superior.” 

“Are y’all talking about you filmed the other night?” you hear Sam ask as he plops down on the couch opposite you, a bowl of ice cream in hand.

“Yes. The people have spoken and I win.” You roll your eyes as Bucky gloats.

“Nah man, yours looked like horse shit. I voted for Y/N. Did you see that gumdrop garden?” 

“Thank you!” you laugh and stick your tongue out at Bucky. “Wait, you guys watched it?” 

Bucky shrugs as he pokes at your tongue. “I was interested in what I look like on camera. Turns out, I look damn good. I should start one of these things!”

You groan as you lean back into Bucky’s chest, but you can’t help but smile at the same time. Maybe introducing your boyfriend to the YouTube world wasn’t the worst thing. Plus, you could use some help with even more Christmas videos you had planned for the year.

[varvesivy]

Idk if you’re taking prompts, but if you are, could you do Natasha Romanoff/Maria Hill after infinity war? Like how Natasha deals with all the stuff that happens? - from anon

(ok so anon prompted me and then tumblr ate it but fear not! i have it saved in my google docs. anyways let’s continue.)

oh yeah i’m always taking prompts! just might take me awhile to fill them sorry.

anyways since i’ve seen this prompt get done a couple of times/to avoid being repetitive, why not throw a soulmate AU into it?

——

This is new.

Out of all the things she’s done since she’s defected to S.H.I.E.L.D.- fighting Steve’s war friend, holding a staff with an infinity stone, whatever the hell Budapest was- she’s never experienced this before.

Being buried alive is something she never wants to do again.

And it’s not that she’s ever really feared it either; she’s never thought of herself as immortal, per se, but Maria’s said Natasha has cheated death one too many times to be considered natural and that Natasha’s almost like Liho the cat, with her nine lives.

Natasha agrees. Not only because she and Maria have been bonded for past a decade, but also because Maria’s right.

The smell of forest soil overwhelms her senses slightly as Natasha claws her way out of the helltrap Thanos has put her in; she needs to get out and get back to Steve and Bucky and Wanda and everyone else so that they can send Thanos’ purple ass back to space.

Instinctively, she checks the mark on her left wrist, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees the swirl is still a bright red.

Maria’s still alive, wherever she is.

(she prays she’ll never have to see the mark turn black, because if it’s black then-

well, she doesn’t want to think about it.)

She sees lighting strike down from the sky, presumably due to Thor and that gigantic axe he’s somehow summoned from probably outer space. It’s still a little mind-boggling to think of- stones that, when combined, could probably annihilate the entire universe.

But, the Avengers will win. The Avengers have to-

And the world stops.

The mark turns black.

—-

Natasha stares up at her bedroom ceiling at the Avengers Compound - not the ceiling she’s used to seeing, the one in an apartment a couple of blocks away that they had shared - and counts to ten.

Thirty seconds later, she drags herself out of bed.

Her blonde hair is tousled and she yanks it into a ponytail, changing into workout clothes and climbing out of her window, landing on the ground with a slight thud.

Daylight’s barely started to peek through the trees, and it’s slightly chilly- perfect conditions for running herself to exhaustion.

She checks her mark, a habit she can’t seem to kick.

It’s a dark orange.

(the same color as yesterday, the day before, the week before, the month, it’s been so long since she’s seen Maria’s face, felt her touch.)

As she starts her run, her mind wanders with the steady thumping of her feet against the ground-

(“Steve, what happened?” Natasha asks, her voice laced with panic and she has to ask again when he doesn’t answer, “What happened?”

“They’re gone.”

That’s all he says.)

-she navigates through the forest surrounding the compound, being careful not to step on any of the bugs-

(Days pass and her mark steadily lightens, just like Steve’s- he takes it as a good sign, clinging to a shred of hope that Bucky is okay, somewhere, anywhere - but Natasha can’t help but think that they’re both being idiots and they’re gone.

She takes it into herself to do some research, trying to find out more about dark orange soulmarks, if they’re any different than black ones or if she’s just in denial.

News articles tell her the soulmates of those who died in the Decimation (she thinks it’s a dumbass name) also have dark orange marks as opposed to the normal black, and apparently there are academics working around the clock to see if there’s any significance to it.

She still doesn’t have answers.)

-dodging through the trees somewhat numbs her as she focuses on breathing in and out, feeling her calves burn slightly from the uneven terrain.

She just wants Maria back.

(Is that so much to ask?)

—-

“What do we do, now that they’re gone?” She hears someone ask.

Steve has dragged her to something resembling an AA meeting, almost like group therapy, after he’d noticed Natasha hadn’t slept in two days.

“We need to move towards acceptance,” the group therapist says, like he knows something they don’t. “Accept that our loved ones are gone.”

Steve gets up, his chair scraping against the floor, leaving the room.

Natasha follows.

Outside, she finds Steve leaning against a wall, his hands in fists and she can see he’s desperately trying not to punch the wall.

“For what it’s worth, I thought what he was saying was complete bullshit,” Natasha says.

Steve clenches his jaw. “Bucky isn’t dead. The soulmark says so.”

He rolls up his sleeve, looking at the dark orange star etched on his skin.

“They haven’t confirmed anything yet. You know that,” Natasha replies, subconsciously rubbing her hand over the swirl on her left wrist.

“Are you saying you’re ready to let Maria go?”

Natasha looks at him, narrows her eyes, and leaves.

—-

For all of her training, she still doesn’t know how to handle this.

Academic papers come out debating the significance of the dark orange soulmarks - she had no idea academic discourse was even a thing - but not one of them can give a definitive answer.

And she doesn’t dare step foot in the apartment she used to call home.

Liho jumps up nimbly onto the couch where she’s sitting, the black cat crawling into her arms as she stares off into the distance. He purrs softly, rubbing his tail under her nose.

Natasha scrunches her face, bringing a hand up to stroke the cat.

(“Natasha, I swear that cat is the devil incarnate,” Maria says, swatting Liho away from her food. “He steals more food from me than you do.”

“He’s a cat, Maria. I’m sure there are more evil entities out there,” Natasha replies, patting her lap while they’re outstretched on the couch. “Liho, c'mere. You can have some of my sushi.”

Maria glares at him as he struts towards Natasha. “I swear you love that cat more than me sometimes.”

“Not physically possible,” Natasha murmurs, worming her hand out of Liho’s warm body and grasping onto Maria’s hand.

They watch TV for a couple of moments before Natasha turns her head sideways, leaning in and catching Maria’s lips.

“I don’t do that to Liho,” Natasha murmurs when she leans back.

Maria chuckles; finds Natasha’s other hand and holds onto it. She leans in, her mouth just ghosting Natasha’s ear.

“Good.”)

—-

Maybe she doesn’t ever move on.

(She’s not supposed to.)

The soulmark isn’t black, after all.

——

gosh this was rushed... even though this prompt has been sitting in my inbox for a good month or three anyways sorry for the sucky prose and whatnot.

if you want to you can prompt me? i still have some other asks to get through but i’ve got some time this week :D

[fictioninmyblood]

Protector of Her Heart

Chapter One

Note: I am new to writing fanfic (this is my first one). I welcome constructive criticism as well as pointers and tips for bettering my blog. Thank you for reading :)

Summary: Elinora is an empath’s version of Professor X, only a lot more powerful. She is an enhanced human with the ability to read the world’s emotions. Nick Fury has welcomed her into the fold, but with a fear of herself she has been quite reserved. A forced bonding night with the newly discovered Wakandan royalty brings her out of the shadows of fear and into the light of lust.

Unkulunkulukazi wam omncinci - my little goddess

Intyatyambo yam - my flower

Warning: language

——————–

Natasha was up and getting ready to go for her morning run, when the smell of garlic goodness wafting through the house led her to the source. She found the newest member to the team quietly putting away the ingredients she had used.

“Why are you still sneaking around at 4 in the morning?”

“Fuck you scared me!”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Well, I don’t want to wake anybody up and I was hungry.”

“It smells delicious, care to share?”

“Uh sure, I don’t need to eat all this by myself anyway.”

She cut the garlic and chicken grilled cheese into 2 triangles and slides Natasha one on a napkin avoiding all physical contact. Natasha leans against the counter and looks at her with a puzzling look.

“Why don’t you like physical or eye contact?”

“Mr. Fury didn’t tell you why I’m here, did he?”

“Not really, he said that was your story to tell, but to keep our emotions in check.”

“Oh, well that explains why you are all so eager to get to know me.”

She was so nervous here, but she knew this was the safest place for her and everybody normal in the world. Natasha was the last person she wanted to talk about her powers with, especially with how desirable she is considered in society. Elinora wanted to be desired like that, but being a plus size African American young woman pushed her to the bottom of that list.

“You gonna explain or should I just go on my run?”

“Oh yea, sorry, got caught up in my head, I do that a lot.”

“People make you nervous?”

“Very. It’s cause I’m an empath, the strongest in history as far as anybody knows. At least that’s what Professor X told Mr. Fury”

“That doesn’t sound too threatening.”

“Well wait for it, it will momentarily… I can feel the emotions of the whole world past or present…without any type of assistance, unlike Professor X… and if I choose so, I can direct the pain of every person living or dead onto someone, it usually ends in the person writhing in indescribable agonizing pain and either dying or becoming insane.”

Natasha now looked at her with appreciation and understanding. She was afraid of herself and her power. That much was evident, but she was also shy and introverted. She knew how lonely that could be and she also knew she had to do something about it. Thankfully the perfect scenario was already available.

“Okay so you have a kickass power and you’re afraid of human contact, that’s understandable. Obviously Fury trusts you or he wouldn’t have brought you here. And I hate that you have been avoiding the world and us, so here is what we’re gonna do. Tonight we are welcoming the Wakandan king and his entourage, we’re going clubbing and you’re coming with.”

“But-”

“I will take you shopping later.”

“But-”

“And I think we can figure out a hairstyle with some help from F.R.I.D.A.Y. and our guests.”

“But-”

“And I’m not taking no for an answer. Come on! You’re the only other woman besides Wanda and me on the team. We need to bond and stuff. It’ll be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

Elinora knew she was not getting out of this, at least not right now. Sighing she shook her head figuring that it would be easier to agree now and back out later.

“Fine, but this is a bad idea”

Elinora was glad for Natasha’s workout schedule as it gave her a few more hours of sleep and preparation. She needed the perfect back out excuse because she was sure Natasha would drug her and bring her if it wasn’t delivered properly. 

———————————————-

Before she knew it, the afternoon had come, along with the guests. She was in the middle of cleaning up as quickly and efficiently as she could in order to escape socializing, but for the first time in weeks she had failed to hide in time. Everyone followed the scent of her ziti and even with her music blasting in her ears, she knew when they entered the kitchen. Foolishly hoping they would ignore her and move along, she ignored them which probably wasn’t a great idea because Natasha was not having her bullshit anymore. She was officially done babying her now that she knew that she was just hiding behind her power.

“I know you can sense us here, you can stop pretending.”

Elinora sighed and turned around to a confused group of Wakandans and Avengers, and a pissed off Natasha.

“I’m sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t hear, headphones and all.”

Natasha’s annoyance was strong so she focused on it and changed it to the calmness that Vision always carried with him. Natasha noticed and tried to ignore her need to shake the girl out of her shell recognizing that her emotions needed to be kept in check.

“Were you trying to leave a food offering and back out of tonight?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I was just cleaning up my mess.”

“You were doing what you have done since you got here. You were avoiding us!”

“I was not. Just making myself scarce. This is probably not a great time to mention this, but I don’t think I can participate in the…festivities.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

Tony knew about Elinora’s abilities and figured that Natasha found out and was now trying to force the poor girl to socialize despite the Elinora’s insistence that she was a threat. Sensing the tension and knowing it needed to be broken he did the only thing he could.

“You speak? I swore you were mute. It’s about damn time.”

“As entertaining as this encounter is, does anybody want to clue us in?” Shuri asked.

Natasha and Elinora spoke at the same time.

“Sure” “Not particularly”

M’Baku was the only one not interested in whatever drama was occurring, but rather the beauty of a goddess tat he somehow felt connected to. He suddenly wanted know her, her secrets, her fears, her love. If only she would stop looking at the ground. Natasha butt into his wandering mind..

“Elinora here, finally told me why she’s been ignoring us and I got her to agree to come out, but now she is clearly trying to bribe and run by cooking and disappearing and I am not allowing her to run…again.”

“I’m not running, just trying to keep people safe”

“Tony, you have brought the king and future queen into a house where it is not safe?!” Okoye accused.

Natasha glared at the warrior, urging her to shut up.

“I assure you, everyone is safe.”

Okoye spoke in their native tongue of Xhosa, “If it is so safe, then what is the girl protecting us from?”

It was quickly becoming too much for Elinora with everyone’s emotions bombarding her. She tried to breath, but it wasn’t helping. She couldn’t do it,  she couldn’t be a normal 22 year old and at that moment she just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear, so she did the only thing she could. She ran, breathing in the varying emotions she breathed out sleep on all of them. Her rash decision gave her just enough time to turn off the oven and run to her room, locking herself in. 

I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.

But she was still there as everyone argued around her, their varying negative emotions being magnified by her inability to block them out. She slowly moved to the corner of the kitchen, making herself as small as possible crying unknowingly. Letting the pain of the world in and her pain of always being the ugly awkward fat girl who couldn’t even socialize mix until she was no longer emotionally there. M’Baku could not stand to witness his beautiful flower wilt before his very eyes and grunted like a gorilla in the intimidating way that only he could achieve, getting everyone’s attention. Vision knew what he was trying to get across and spoke for them both.

“I think, what the gentleman is trying to make clear is that your negative emotions and energy are effecting the girl, so please reign them in.

They all simultaneously turned to see Elinora curled in the corner of the kitchen crying into her arms, making herself as small as possible. M’Baku shoved them out of the way and crouched in front of her and tried to get her to look at him. He knew that if she would just look at him, she would be fine, he had no clue how he knew that, but he did.

“Intyatyambo yam, look at me precious, it’s okay. The idiots are sorry.”

“How dare you-”

Okoye was silenced with a potent glare from him that told him he would kill her just to shut her up. Everyone was surprised to see this giant of a man behaving so gently towards this girl that had barely spoken to anyone, especially him, everyone except T’Challa. He knew that look, for he shared it with Nakia.

“Unkulunkulukazi wam omncinci look at me. Just look at me, focus on me, not the negative emotions you’re feeling right now.”

She finally looked up into those understanding brown eyes and she couldn’t deny that even though she just met him, she knew him and he knew her. She breathed and for the first time in her life, all the emotions of the world were gone except for her own and his. It was the most relaxed she had ever felt. The peace she now felt funneled outward and everyone relaxed as one.

“So can we eat now because all this arguing has left me famished. I’m starving and that smells delicious for American cooking.” 

“Shuri! Do not insult our hosts.”

T’Challa shook his head at his sister’s sense of humor.

“Fine brother, I was just trying to lighten the mood…and the hunger pangs in my stomach.”

Shuri moved to get a plate. Everyone laughed and followed her lead. Taking this moment to not dwell on what just happened.

Elinora looked at M’Baku and whispered…

“How?”

Chapter Two

Tags: @skysynclair19 @biglipsandafropicks

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Rise Up*

Chapter Five

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 6539   Warnings: Swearing, Smut NSFW 18+

Song: I Walk the Line by Halsey

The air in your lungs rushed out when you slammed back first into the mat. Laying there, momentarily stunned, you sucked air, desperate to get some wind back.

Once you could breathe again, you smacked the flat of your hand down on the ground beside you and snarled, “Damn it!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve improved a lot since we started.” Holding down his hand, Matt waited to help you up.

“Not enough,” you sighed, slapping your palm to his.

It had been a month since you’d started training with Matt and in that time you’d been able to master the art of seeing without seeing in your daily life. It was growing easier every day to walk the hallways of the compound without walking into something.

While he’d taught you to use a cane, you decided to keep it for missions when you wanted to appear like the average blind person. Everyone who worked for the Avengers was already aware of your abilities as a Valkyrie, and simply assumed your enhanced senses were the reason you could maneuver the compound so easily.

You could tune in or out the noise far easier than before, though you still found it difficult to distinguish individual conversations in a large group of people.

Scent and taste were coming along as well, Matt getting Tony to bring in a variety of items for you to learn and memorize. By the end of the day you were usually both mentally and physically exhausted from his vigorous and intense training regime. You both relished and hated the challenge. Learning the new things you needed to were fun and stimulating, but the simple things you'd always taken for granted, the ease with which you'd fought, or aimed a weapon, was now so much harder.

It felt like days of old when you’d first learned to fight under Tove’s tutelage. Your mother had not pulled her punches either, sending you to your back over and over again until you learned all she had to teach you.

“Hey,” Matt grasped you by the elbows once you were back on your feet. “The only reason I got your feet out from under you is that you became distracted.”

“I know, I know.”

“He’ll be back this afternoon.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“And you talked to him this morning. Everything went fine.”

Your forehead connected with Matt’s chest. After a month of nearly living in each other’s pocket he knew you almost as well as Steve. Add in the fact you were constantly in contact with each other, holding on to his arm, sharing food, hands moving together over braille as he helped you learn, it had been easy to slip into a close friendship with the man who once called himself Daredevil.

It was like gaining a brother. Wanda said it had been the same with her and Pietro. You just knew each other, got each other, so when he talked about Steve, he did so because he knew what you were going through.

“I know it did.”

Steve, Bucky, and Sam had left on a mission three days ago. He'd fought against going, knowing how painful it was for you to watch him leave, put himself in danger without you to watch his back, but they needed the power the two super soldiers brought to the team.

It was a hostage situation, high valued targets, in which a small team of agents were needed. Bucky had sworn he, Sam, and Natasha could handle it, but when the Intel had come through it was glaringly evident they needed Steve for the job. He and Bucky had the necessary strength and stealth, while Sam had the tech.

Steve had waffled right up to the moment you’d smacked him in the abs and told him to go. Yes, you needed him, but he also had a job to do. 

It had hurt like hell when he'd left, but you'd held it together, kissed him goodbye, and made it back to your room before you allowed the wave of panic and fear to overwhelm you. It had done little good hiding how difficult his leaving had been as Steve had called, wanting to know what had happened. Even at a distance he'd felt the hard jerk and lurch of your heart.  

Stroking your hair, Matt murmured, “Why don’t we call it early today?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re kind of worthless.”

“Hey!”

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Kidding, kidding.”

Throwing a half-hearted punch at his head, you shook yours. “Have you talked to Elektra?”

He ducked even as he sighed. “Briefly.”

“I'm sorry, Matty.”

The rift caused between them by Matt’s decision to come to your aid had you feeling a little guilty. They had been done with all their defenders of justice bullshit - as Elektra put it - and shouldn’t be getting themselves involved.

But Matt was Matt. Getting the call from Steve, a man he admired for his principles, had set Matt at odds with his girl. Now they were barely speaking, and when they did it never went well.

“Hey, not your fault.” He shook his head as he stripped off his mask.

Even now, he still used it. Said it was like slipping into a different persona. He channelled his abilities better when he allowed himself to be Daredevil once again.

“It kind of is,” you muttered, tugging off your blindfold. “You'd gotten out of all this only to be pulled back in because of me.”

His hand came down on your shoulder. “I chose to come — my choice. I…” he hesitated, then sighed. “I… miss it.”

“Yeah?”

He heaved out another heavy breath. “Yeah. It made me… weirdly happy. Helping people. Taking down corruption. Doing some good with these… abilities,” he looked down, flexed his hands. “Made me feel…”

“Complete,” you finished for him and got a nod. “I get that.”

“I know you do. I can see it every time you're with Steve.”

“So if defending and shit makes you happy, do it.”

“I would, but I'm dead,” he chuckled. The sound, however, was hollow without mirth.

“You don't have to stay dead if you don't want to, Matt. Stories can be spread. Miracles can occur. We're pretty good at that here. Make a story up about amnesia, you've only just regained your memory. We can bring you back if you want to come back.”

“I miss Foggy. Karen, too,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “I don't know.”

“I know you love Elektra, but is being with her worth being miserable in everything else? You tried to hang up your horns once and look what happened.”

“Since when did you become the sage in this relationship?” he quipped, done with the conversation.

“Just… think about it, Matty.”

***

You were in the shower washing away the sweat and grime from your session with Matt when you heard it. There was a jet incoming.

Your heart leapt and “Sjelevenn,” whispered from your lips.

But of course when you tried to rush through the rest of your shower your hands grew clumsy, knocking the bottles to the floor. Swearing softly, you listened to the sounds of engines growing steadily closer as you scrambled to put everything to rights.

Finishing in record time, you leapt from the shower, threw a towel around yourself, another around your head and raced out the bathroom door.

The closet was no longer a challenge thanks to the girls and Matt. Bra and underwear went on without a hitch, leggings stuck to your wet skin and were sworn at as you forced them up your legs with a wild shimmy. Grabbing a thick sweater from the dresser, you struggled into it, knocking free the towel from your head, and found the tag scratching your throat. Ripping it off as you listened to the jet land, you whipped it around, threw it back on, slammed your feet into running shoes and darted out the door.

The race down the hallway was a giddy one. People darted to get out of your way. Some laughed, others catcalled giving you the gears, all of them knew exactly where you were headed.

You couldn’t care less. All you knew was you needed to get to the hanger, to Steve. The wash of red in your mind had you darting in and around people when they didn’t move fast enough.

This too made you giddy, a little giggly, because of how nice it was to have a semblance of sight back. No, it wasn’t what had once been, but in some aspects, it was better. The map in your head of the people and the building was just so much more now. You didn’t have to see what was around the corner with your eyes because you already knew what was there.

At the doors to the hanger, you slowed, pushed them open, getting a bead on the room. There were far too many people in it for your liking. Quinjets sat wingtip to wingtip; equipment scattered around. It was like a damn obstacle course between you and the jet which smelled of heat and fuel, oil and sky.

The hiss of the ramp coming down had your head turning.

Boots on metal. The whir of Bucky’s arm. Sam’s wonderful laugh made you smile, but it was the sound of familiar steps and the singing song of Steve’s shield which had you moving forward.

But gawd! There were so many people!

Why the hell did they land on the far side of the hanger?

You charted the most direct route to take you to Steve. Three steps saw you to the ladder of the nearest quinjet. Once you were standing on its roof, you took off at a run, leaping effortlessly to the wing of the next jet, up over its roof and down the other side.

Flipping off the wing, you landed in a clear section of floor and raced on. You darted around the tail of another jet. A mechanical lift with a large metal beam hung in your way. Pushing hard, you slid beneath it on your knees, and were up and running again within seconds.

The herd of people between you and Steve kept growing, all wanting to congratulate the returning heroes on their successful mission, but you were having none of it.

“Clear a fucking path!” you bellowed.

It was like the red sea parted before you. Everyone turned, took a step back, yanking other people out of the way when you headed for them at a dead run.

You grinned wide when Bucky chuckled and stepped into your path, his metal arm outstretched. Laughing, you didn’t bother to slow down but sped up. When you got closer, you rounded into a cartwheel, pushed off in a handspring which saw you landing feet first on Bucky’s arm.

“Easy, doll face!” he barked, bracing beneath your weight, but you were already launching yourself at Steve standing with Tony and Sam.

“Steve!” squealed from your lips.

“Jesus!” he yelled, arms coming up in the nick of time when you slammed full force into his chest.

Your legs went around his waist and clamped tight. Thrusting your hands into his hair, you sealed your lips to his in a kiss which took his breath and sent him stumbling backwards.

“I… missed… you… so… much!” you said between kisses.

With his shield magnetized to his arm his hand easily delved into your hair, the heavy glove of his suit catching and tugging on your locks in a surprisingly pleasant way. Hidden mostly from view by the large singing shield, you nipped and bit at his lips. His tongue slid its way into your mouth, tasting and twisting with yours before pulling you back by the hair to catch his breath.

“Baby, it’s only been three days,” he said, but his lips brushed over yours again as soon as the words were out.

“Three days without you!” Diving back in, you ate at his mouth, sucking and biting at his tongue, his other hand squeezing your ass when a disgruntled huff came from the far side of the shield.

“Get a fucking room,” Bucky teased.

“We have a debriefing to get to, Cap,” Sam chuckled.

Hefting you higher, Steve walked away. “It can wait.”

“Excellent decision, Captain,” you purred against his ear.

“She’s thoroughly corrupted him,” Tony snickered. “I love it.”

“He’s whipped,” Sam said.

“Pussy whipped,” agreed Bucky.

“Fuck you, jerk,” Steve grumbled, making you chuckle.

“They're all jealous,” you whispered in Steve’s ear, grinning at the men though it was likely only Bucky who could hear you.

Catcalls and whistling followed the two of you through the hanger, but it neither slowed Steve down nor stopped you from attacking his throat above the collar of his uniform. Together you slammed through the hanger doors into the main compound. The clanging sound of Steve’s shield hitting them echoed loudly.

You couldn’t have cared less.

The scent of Steve saturated every particle of air you breathed in. The taste of him was on your tongue. His suit was hard beneath your hands, but his hair and skin were soft. The scruff of three day’s growth of beard abraded your chin and cheek when you took your teeth to his jaw.

“Baby,” he moaned softly, “least wait till we get to the room.”

“Don’t wanna,” you murmured, nipping at his ear. “Missed you. Need to touch you.”

He hissed at the sting. “We’d get there faster if you’d let me concentrate.”

“Am I distracting you, Captain?” Crooning against his ear, you rolled your body into his in an act which had you plastering your fronts together.

“Yes!” he growled, tugging at your hair.

Laughing, you wiggled in his hold. “I know an even faster way of getting where we need to go.”

“Oh?”

You knew his brow would be arched. It always was with that cocky tone. “Yeah. Let me down, and I’ll show you.”

The spasm of his hand on your ass showed his reluctance before he let you go.

Dropping to your feet, you let your hands slide over his chest, figuring out which suit he had on. Not the stealth suit, not your favourite, but the next best. The one with the defined red and white abdomen, similar to the stealth one you adored with its design but in his traditional colours. The shoulder harness for his shield was a combination of smooth leather and cool metal when you slipped your fingers underneath it and gave a tug.

When he leaned down, you smiled slyly, pressed up on your toes and kissed him till his entire body softened before pulling away. Humming your pleasure, you licked your lips to catch the taste of him again, dragged your fingertips down over his Kevlar encased abdominals to his belt. “You want to get there fast, Captain?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained.

Looking up at him, you smiled seductively, peering up through your lashes, using your new senses to see the flush on his cheeks, the sweat on his brow, the way he swallowed. You could smell the heat on him, the lust growing. It made you feel powerful to know he was so thoroughly yours in that instant you likely could have dragged him into the supply closet and had him out of his suit in under a minute, but you were only just getting started.

Three days felt like three years. You weren’t letting him out of your bed until you’d touched every inch of skin and knew without a shadow of a doubt he was unharmed.

Shifting a little, aware of the people trying so hard not to watch the two of you and this public display of affection, you moved with lightning speed, a quickness you had yet to exhibit from your Valkyrie powers to any one but Matt, and took Steve’s feet out from under him.

“Catch me if you can, Cap!” Laughing loudly, you darted away.

“(Y/N)!” he bellowed. “You’d best run!”

Continuing to giggle, you pulled out all your tricks, running like a gazelle, all speed and grace and lightness of step. You sought ahead, making sure not to run into anyone.

The heavy booted feet of Steve coming after you pounded in time with your heartbeat. Where once he would have been on you in strides, now, to the Captain’s apparent surprise, he had to work to keep up. When his hearty chuckle sounded behind you, you only grinned wider.

The turn to the living quarters was coming up. Instead of slowing, you made the turn at a dead run, leaping at the last second to push off the wall and keep going.

“One side, Vis!” you laughed joyously, sliding around the android. “Watch out for Steve!” you warned just as the thump of a body hitting something solid and the sharp grunt of your sjelevenn informed you the Captain had not made the same grace-filled turn you had.

“Captain?” Vision questioned, staring at the stumbling man.

“I’m good. Damn, she’s fast!” Steve chuckled, causing the ringing sound of your laughter to wash out when you jogged to a stop before your shared door.

Grinning his direction, you pushed it open and sauntered inside.

“Is this… sprint through the compound part of (Y/N)’s training with Murdock?” Vision asked.

“Something like that,” Steve said, striding quickly toward the open door.

“Would she require assistance with the next one?”

“Vis,” Wanda called out, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “Come. I will explain the nature of what this all meant.”

You could still hear Vision muttering about the strangeness of people when Steve’s presence filled the doorway. Stripping your sweater over your head, you let it drop from your hand as you backed away, heading for the bedroom.

A rumble like a hungry animal escaped Steve’s chest when the door shut and the lock engaged. “That was pretty damn impressive, doll face,” he said. The sound of the electromagnets disengaging preceded his shield going quiet when it settled on the sofa.

“Getting easier every day,” you said, smiling as you shimmied out of your leggings.

“Fuck, baby…” he moaned, his eyes feeling hot on your skin when they roamed over you. “You went up the wall and…”

“And?” you asked, stepping slowly backward in only your underwear as he advanced.

“My blood rushed south. Should have made that turn. Ran straight into the wall instead.”

Bursting out laughing, you stopped when your calves made contact with the bed. “And here I though a little chase would be less distracting.”

“You thought watching you run, enticing me to chase you, knowing it would end up with you naked under me screaming my name, would be less distracting?”

“Alright, maybe not, but it did get us to this point so much faster.”

“Can I expect such a welcome every time I have to go away?”

“Only when you go without me.” Which, if you had your way, would be never again.

“Well… that sucks.”

Surprised, you laid your hands on his chest when he stopped before you. “What? Why?”

His gentle hands, now devoid of gloves cupped your face. “Because I don’t plan on going anywhere without you ever again.”

“Steve,” you whispered as your heart turned over.

“God you’re gorgeous, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours.

Fumbling with his belt, you got it undone and let it hit the floor. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten to participate in getting you out of this suit.” Using the tips of your sensitive fingers, you passed them over his chest and abs. “Alright, how do you get in and out of this thing?” There wasn’t a buckle, zipper, or fastener to be found until you let your fingers drift down to cup the very firm length between his thighs. “Nice to see they at least made this easily accessible.”

“Is that an invitation to have you with the suit on?” he asked, his smile wide when he pressed his lips to your throat and drew them slowly down, teeth nipping into your skin.

“I would say yes, but it stinks.” You didn’t mind the sweat so much, but the scent of gunpowder, blood, and some kind of grease was becoming overpowering. “What the hell did you slide through?”

“Mechanic's shop,” he muttered, leading your hands around to the back of his suit. “Lots of oil. There’s a flap of Kevlar velcroed down, under it is a zipper. Hit the latch for the shield harness first.”

“And just why were you sliding through the oil and grunge of a mechanic’s shop?”

“Ugh…” he hesitated.

Pressing the harness release, you pulled it from his back and let it fall to join his belt. While he toed off his boots, you dragged the zipper down. “Steven?”

“There may have been a… a rocket launcher…”

“Steven!”

“It was a small one, and the shield took the impact. I just kind of… skidded… a little.”

Shoving the suit forward, you let him strip it down his arms so your forehead could connect with his back. Beneath the suit he had on a tight, compression top and similar briefs, both damp with sweat, but you paid it no mind. You’d never known sweaty man could smell good until Steve, until Helgi, but the scent of your sjelevenn was like home and never repulsed you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, rubbing the arms you’d wrapped around him. “I’m fine. You know I’ve taken a lot worse than a dirty slide through some old building.”

“I lost you… twice on the battlefield. Twice, Steve. Don’t make light of something like this.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, turning around to, again, take your face in his hands. The suit hung around his waist, rubbing against your bare skin in a not necessarily unpleasant way. “I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I can and can’t take.”

Wrapping your hand at the back of his neck, you pulled him down until his forehead pressed to yours. Taking one of his hands from your face, you brought it to rest over the wildly beating heart in your chest. “Listen to this, Steve. Feel what it was like when I lost you as Sváfa.”

Returning to that time in your memory, you gasped at the sharp pain when it washed through you. Even though he stood right in front of you, flesh and blood and whole, the pain was as fresh as if it had just happened.

“They didn’t think it possible to die of a broken heart,” you whispered when he shuddered, the strange bond between you filling him with your feelings on the matter, “but I did. I did… twice.”

“Sweetheart… I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing you softly. Jaw, cheeks, chin, he placed tender kisses all over your face, finally drifting back to your lips where he kissed you breathless.

The small tilt of his head and parted lips met yours, encouraging your mouth open with gentle persistence so his tongue could rub the edge of your teeth. The tip of his tongue caught the end of yours, teased and slipped around it, sending tingles down your spine and a moan washing from your throat.

Noses brushed together. Hearts beat as one.

You nipped into his lip, sucked it into your mouth, pulling on it with small tugs until he echoed the sound you’d made. A heady moan of wanton desire rumbled from his throat.

Shoving at his suit, you forced the heavy material down his legs, never breaking from the kiss. It landed at his feet where he stepped on it, turning the legs inside out to get the thing off as your hands dragged the hem of his top up, revealing his sculpted abs and chest.

Forced to break the kiss, you lifted the shirt over his head, Steve assisting, jerking it from his arms as your hands fell frantically to his shorts.  Dropping to your knees, you practically tore the fabric down his legs, freeing his cock in one fell swoop, where it bobbed, brushing against your cheek.

Turning your head, you licked the shaft right back to the tip, wrapped your lips around his crown and sank deep, mouth meeting your hand without hesitation, causing every muscle in Steve’s body to jerk with the sensation.

“Fuck!” he barked, sinking his hands into your hair. “Shit, fuck… baby!”

Drawing back, you smirked when you pulled away. “Something wrong?”

“Nope, not a damn thing.” He wheezed a little, the excitement of having you swallow him so suddenly palatable on the air.

“You sure? Wouldn’t want to stress that old heart of yours.”

His hands tugged at your hair. “Not a chance.”

The tip of his cock nudged your lips. Licking the end, you opened wide, letting him slide back into the heated depths of your mouth. Sucking hard, you hollowed your cheeks, pulling on him with every thrust of his hips.

“So good...” he murmured, fingers carding and stroking through your hair. “Damn you’re good at that. Don’t stop, darlin'. Don’t stop. Fuck I missed you.”

Humming a chuckle, you looked up toward his face.

His hand landed lightly on your cheek, his thumb caressing the high arch of bone. “Look at me with those eyes. Just like that, (Y/N). They’re so beautiful, baby. They match your heart now. They show your incredible soul.”

A blush filled your cheeks, one of pleasure at hearing his praise. Running your hands up and down his thighs, you sucked and licked and ran the lightest caress of teeth over the  ridges and veins of his cock. It stretched your jaw a little, but the sounds of his pleasure, the way his body heated beneath your touch, the quiver and quake of his muscles kept you going.

Grunts of pleasure replaced his words of praise until he pulled quickly away, panting heavily. “Not like that. Not yet. I want you.” His hands went beneath your arms, lifting you easily to your feet where he brought you in, flesh to flesh, to seal his mouth to yours in a kiss which once would have left bruises.

Now you returned it with the same amount of vigour. Deft fingers easily snapped open the clasp of your bra, pinning it in place between you with how tight he held you. The ridge of his hard cock pressed into your thigh making you whimper in need. “Steve, please.”

Stepping back, he swept your bra down your arms, took you by the waist, turned, and threw you back on the bed where you giggled as you landed. A knee pressed between yours. Hands returned to your waist to the band of your underwear which were swiftly jerked down your legs.

Warm, callused fingers closed around your ankles and drew them apart, lifting them up and back while you leaned on your elbows. A smile played with your lips. The intensity with which he stared at you, heated gaze dragging over your flesh, felt like fingers on your skin. “See something you like, Captain?”

“Min vakre skjoldpike.”

The words seemed to walk the length of your spine, shiver through your veins and settle deep in your heart. “Sjelevenn,” you moaned, letting your head fall back when those hard, strong hands skimmed down your calves, the back of your thighs, and under to cup your ass and drag you closer.

“Look how wet you are,” he murmured. The fingers of his right hand sent shivers through you as they made their way over to your core and slipped along your moist lips. He rubbed slow circles, playing with your clit, delving down to collect more of your slick and spread it around.

“God, Steve…” Arching up, you let your leg settle on his shoulder while the other fell open on the bed.

He leaned forward, his big body causing yours to flex with your leg over his shoulder. His tongue swept over your breast. Lips latched around your nipple and tugged just as his fingers slipped inside of you, pressing out against your walls in a scissoring motion which sent shocks of pleasure through your core.  

“Jeg trenger deg inne i meg, min kjærlighet,” poured from your lips.

“Baby,” Steve moaned against your skin. “You know what that does to me.”

“I know,” you sighed, arching against his lips.

“Tell me?” His mouth skimmed up your throat to suck against your pulse.

“I need you inside me, my love.” Turning your face, you sank into his kiss.

He shifted over you, his body pressing yours back into the bed, stretching you into a near split when his big palm held your thigh down. “How badly do you need me?” he asked, rubbing his tip into your heat.

“So bad, Stevie. I missed you, I need you, I want you,” you murmured, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Yeah? How much do you want me?”

You smiled at his teasing. Stretched out as you were, you couldn’t even rock up against him. “As much as you want me.”

“That’s right, baby,” he purred. With a slow thrust, he sank deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he stretched your walls and filled you up.

“Fuck… you’re so damn big!”

He chuckled even as his muscles quivered with strain. “I’m already yours, darlin', no need to stroke my ego.”

“Shut up, sjelevenn.”

He continued to chuckle when he started to move. Long, slow glides of his thick cock through your already quivering walls.

“Fuck that feels so good, Stevie,” you moaned, sliding your hands down his back and dragging your nails up.

His face tucked into your throat, nipped and sucked beneath your ear. The roughness of his palms caused your skin to tingle when he stroked them over your thighs. His beard scratched your jaw, the sensation rushing straight to your core. The hand holding your thigh to the bed shifted, drew your leg up around his waist. He sank deeper, bottoming out, sending you reeling when the bliss flooded your core.

“Jeg elsker måten du elsker meg på!”

The rumble of excitement slipped from his throat, setting his chest vibrating against yours. “Tell me.”

Cupping his face, you brought his mouth down. Kissing him softly, small pecks which matched the flex of his hips, you whispered against his mouth, “I love the way you make love to me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, running his nose along your jawline.  “Jeg elsker deg.”

“I love you, too, Stevie.” Stroking his cheek, you let your leg slide from his shoulder to his elbow.

He shifted enough to allow you leg fall to his waist, then lowered himself down, stretched himself over you, pressing you firmly into the bed where he took his hands over your sides.

Burying your hands in his hair, you whimpered when he went still.  

His hips held yours down. His body both restraining and comforting. “I missed you. It was only three days, but I missed you. I missed the softness of your skin against mine and the way you sleep on my chest at night. I missed the scent of your hair. I missed these eyes,” he murmured, placing a gentle touch to your cheek. “I missed your smile and your laugh.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat. “I missed the smell of your skin, especially right here.” He lifted up enough to rub his nose between your breasts.

“Steve,” you sighed softly, heart full with his tenderness.

“It was three days, but it felt like three weeks.” He linked your hands together, stretching them up over your head. “I want to spend three days right here,” he crooned, flexing his hips and driving himself deeper.

“Fuck, Steve!”

“I am, sweetheart.” His mouth fell to your throat as short thrust started again. He was so deep, and so big, and so hard, it took very little movement on his part to send you spiraling.

Clenching your hands in his, you held on, unable to do anything but ride the wave of slowly building pleasure twisting in your belly. The short strokes saw his ridge catching on your sweet spot over and over and over. His lips pulled and sucked at your throat, leaving what you were sure would be a dark hickey. It would last a few hours before disappearing, aided by your healing abilities, but while it marked your skin, you would wear it proudly.

Heated skin, growing slick with sweat, moved together in an age-old dance of passion. Your body grew taut, your muscles shaking, your soft cries growing in volume as you reached for the heights. Each thrust took you up higher. Drove you on to reach for more when the spiraling coil in your belly finally gave with a snap, flooding your core with ecstasy, leaving you in a state of blissed-out moaning.

Panting, his heart beating hard against you, Steve rested his forehead on yours and rode out the clenching, clamping grip of your walls. Once the wave of your orgasm had slowed, he pulled away.

“Min vakre skjoldpike,” he whispered placing kisses on your face and chest as his hands went to your hips. “Let go with your legs, baby.”

Letting them drop to the bed, you giggled when you found yourself flipped to your belly. “Ooh, kinky.”

Sinking back between your legs, Steve settled himself at your entrance and dropped a half dozen kisses on your spine. “You would know,” he chuckled. Thrusting hard, he buried himself back in your body making you gasp in shocked pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned, turning your face to the mattress to stifle your voice.

Steve’s fingers threaded into your hair, closed in a fist and lifted your head. “Don’t, baby doll. I want to hear your voice.” The surging of his hips intensified, driving deep, thrusting directly into your g-spot.

Clenching your fists in the bedding, you nearly howled in pleasure. The weight of Steve against your spine kept you from moving. Completely at his mercy, you gave yourself over to his care, soaking in the scent that was uniquely Steve, wallowing in the way he knew you so well he could play your body like an instrument.

The tug at your hair with each downward thrust of his hips had you releasing a high pitched whine. He let go only to wrap that big hand around your throat, holding you gently so he could run his lips and teeth over your ear. “Missed this, too, doll face. Missed the way your body responds. Missed the way you moan my name. Missed the way you come on my cock.”

His words sent a clutch to your core, clamping down on him as the heat in your belly grew again.

“Just like that, baby. Want to feel you come on my cock. Squeeze it and milk it as only you can. Min vakre skjoldpike, jeg elsker deg.”

When he called you his shield maiden and told you he loved you, you could no longer fight the fire growing inside you, didn’t want to, and screamed out, “Steve!” when his teeth sank into your shoulder. Drowning in his scent, the pounding of his heart was all you could hear over the roaring of your blood in your ears.

You cried out again when the inferno which had been slowly growing raged into life, bursting outwards in streaks of pleasure through all your limbs. Your walls locked down around him, squeezing a shocked grunt from Steve.

Only a few hard thrusts more saw him swelling inside you, stretching your already tight channel, sending you into another round of moaning, screaming pleasure when he emptied himself out and let his head fall between your shoulder blades.

Slumping down, you gasped for air in tandem beneath your heavy as hell sjelevenn. Not that you would ever complain. The weight of him made you feel safe, and, in a way, powerful to have taken down this giant of a man with nothing more than a look and a shimmy out of your clothes.

He shifted enough to roll you both to your sides, spooning up against you with a sigh of contentment. “That was some welcome home, doll.” Big hands traced patterns on your torso, one coming up to gently knead a breast.

“It was fun,” you sighed, enjoying the small sparks and little whips of pleasure his hand on your breast was providing. Rolling over, you let your legs tangle and settled against his chest. When his fingers began running up and down your spine, you slowly took yours over his pecs and abs. “We should play tag more often.”

“Only if it ends with you naked,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead.

Rubbing your nose against his heart, you smiled. “I’m pretty sure that could be arranged.”

“You’re getting real good at the whole seeing without seeing thing.”

“Still can’t quite get a handle on it in a fight,” you sighed, a little sad. “Matt put me on my ass today.”

Steve drew you closer. “You’re gonna get there, (Y/N). I know you will.”

Heaving a sigh, you nodded. “I know. I just wish it was faster. I haven’t felt this… amateurish in a very long time. And we haven't even started on weapons yet, just hand to hand.”

He brushed the hair from your cheek. “It’s a whole new ballgame, doll. It’s gonna take time. Have patience.”

“I don’t wanna,” you pouted, scratching at his chest.

Laughing, he caught the fingers of your right hand and brought them to his lips. “Where're your claws, pretty kitty?”

“Took it off when I had my shower. Left it in the bathroom when you landed.”

“You were in that much of a hurry, hm?”

Laughing, you rolled him to his back and straddled his abs. “Well, I may have been missing you a little.”

“Only a little?”

Smirking, you leaned closer till your breasts brushed over his chest, causing a pleased hum to rumble in his throat. “Maybe more than a little.”

You were just about to kiss him, Steve’s hands massaging your ass, getting ready for round two when you felt it. A hum of static in the air. Your groan turned swiftly into a growl of annoyance.

“What? What is it?” Steve had long since stopped second guessing what you knew in advance of him.

“The bifröst is opening.” Sighing, you flopped down on top of Steve like a limp noodle.

His arms immediately went around you. “I won’t let them bully you.”

“Steve…”

“No.”

Sighing, you tucked your face against his throat. “It’s been a month.”

“Not long enough.”

“Thor did apologize before he went home. He didn’t mean to upset me.”

“Loki didn’t.”

There was a distinct note of annoyance in Steve’s voice. “And he won’t. It’s Loki.” An apology from Loki would be a long time in coming. He would rather make a peace offering, a grand gesture, than every say he was sorry.

“I don’t like how they tried to guilt you into returning to Asgard.”

“You made that perfectly clear.”

“Hm. I hope so,” he huffed.

Kissing his jaw, you made to sit up only to find yourself stuck. “Let me up, Steve.”

“Three days.”

You could hear the pout in his voice, feel it through his touch. “I know, sjelevenn.”

“Stay.”

“If it’s Loki, he’ll come looking for me.”

Steve rolled you beneath him. “Then he’ll learn to wait.”

“He’s not good with waiting,” you snickered.

“He’ll learn.”

When the length of Steve’s erection nudged insistently at your thigh, you smiled. “Yeah, I guess he will.”

Next Chapter

[littledreamer9211]

Monsters

A/N: Not going to lie, I don’t know what this is. I’m just in one of those moods today. I’ve left it open so you can imagine any guy you like. It is quite heavy so if you feel like you can’t read it then i totally understand. On the other hand if you do read it and want to talk to me about anything then please message me, I’m here for you. You can also message me just to let me know what you think. 

Warnings: Mental Health issues - could be triggering. and maybe a couple swear words  Word count: 195 ____________________________________

It’s amazing just how quickly a mood can change, with very little prompting. One minute your walking through your life with a metaphorical blue sky, able to face any challenges thrown your way then before you know it the pavement is ripped apart and the smooth path you were once able to see is now disrupted with lava pools and monsters lurking in the corners and bushes. You can’t see them but the utter dread in the pit of your stomach lets you know that they are most definitely there. Waiting patiently for you. No matter how long it takes you to get to their part of the path, they know that the wait is worth it. And that’s one of the scariest parts of the dark path. The knowledge that it doesn’t matter if you make it to the monster this time around because they will happily lay dormant until the next disruption to your blue sky. The fear is enough to make you feel physically sick.

Laying in bed ignoring the shrill screams of your alarm, you could just tell it was going to be one of those days. The only reason you turn to shut the damn thing off was the sudden movement of the warm body beside you. A gruff “morning baby” as he hauled himself from the depths of the warm duvet. The rush of cold air only making you hold on tighter and snuggle deeper into the warm, squishiness of the mattress while trying to cocoon yourself in the blanket once more.

The sound of the shower door squeaking open and the rush of water lets you know that there’s no way to avoid the dawning of this new day or the tasks that the day was impatiently waiting for you to check off of your list. Knowing that once he got a proper look at your face he would know that today is a dark day, you dragged yourself from the bed and over to the wardrobe – shoving on which ever clean clothes came to hand first and not giving a damn what you looked like. Sneaking into the bathroom while he was still singing away in the shower, you quickly brushed your teeth and washed your face while thanking the heavens above that you showered last night so your hair was manageable. Normally the squeak of his voice as he hit the high notes in Sia’s newest song would bring the brightest of smiles to your face but not today. A quick “bye” and you were out the door where you could disappear into the horde of morning commuters and stay lost, just another face in the crowd. It’s always easier around strangers. You don’t have to pretend or explain. You can just be.

You avoid your favourite coffee shop because the friendly smiles might just tip you over the edge. You’re not even sure you want coffee, it’s just a morning habit. No appetite is a normal occurrence on these days.

Finally making it into the office, you place your bag and phone on the desk. Not paying any attention to the 3 missed calls and 4 un-answered texts all from the same number.

A quick glance at the diary for today and you let out a heavy sigh of relief that there were no meetings scheduled. Closing your office door, thankful you were the boss, you sent a quick email to your PA and friend Wanda full of bullshit about how you were snowed under with paperwork and only wanted to be disturbed if it was absolutely necessary. Of course, you knew she would smell bullshit straight away – she’s your PA and knows your schedule and deadlines better than her own. But she was also the kind of friend that would see you needed your space and would respect that. It was one of the many things you loved about her. Nat on the other hand, is the complete opposite but you didn’t have the energy to deal with that right now so decided to ignore the red head for as long as you could get away with.

A couple of hours go by quietly before deciding you should at least let him know you’re ‘okay’. Unlocking your phone, you read the texts which get more urgent with each new one. “Damn it babe, I’ll phone Wanda and Nat. Don’t think that I won’t.” Just as you finish reading this last one, another text comes through. “Just let me know you’re okay. That’s all I ask.”. The rush of guilt that washes over you makes your eyes swim with unshed tears. You don’t deserve this man in your life. His unconditional love and understanding leaves you utterly speechless. The sparkle from the diamond on your left hand catches your eye and reminds you that he said he was all in, for better or worse but it’s hard to believe that when your inching closer and closer to a hidden monster. “I can’t today. Too dark.” Was all you text back.

By now it’s early afternoon and your inability to focus on anything or get any work done would normally have you infuriating by now but you’re numb.

The constant buzzing of voices and office talk creeping through the crack under your office door is starting to really grind your gears. Who cares about the hot repairman that’s finally came to fix the fax machine that you emailed about 2 weeks ago? Or how the new Stark project was “so cool!”. You were surrounded by a group of well paid, nerds. On any other day, you would be out there geeking over whatever they were discussing too but today that just cost too much energy and you had none to spare.

You’re about to email Wanda and tell her to make everyone shut the fuck up when suddenly you hear a soft, deep mumble of a voice just on the other side of the door. It’s a voice that you would be able to recognise anywhere. He’s here. He seems to be having a conversation with Wanda and you hear her muffle of a reply before there’s a soft knock at the door. From the second the knock rings around the silent room, it’s like time freezes and you can’t breathe.

Like slow motion, the door opens and the light from the hallway seems to frame his silhouette in a golden glow. Your own personal guardian angel. Fuck…you loved this man. You watch, unable to move or say a word as he softly closes the door behind him and takes in the scene in front of him. You didn’t realise how much you had trashed your own desk until you see his eyes flash surprise, which in turn fades into concern and a hint of something else…was that heartbreak?

But you don’t care…can’t care. About the state of your normally overly organised desk, the fact that you’ve made no effort to open a blind or even turn on a light, or the fact that you’ve unconsciously ran your hands through your hair so much that it looks like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. He doesn’t say a word as he walks towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact. As he gets to the side of your desk, he cautiously pulls back you chair and turns it so that he can kneel in front of you. Saying nothing as his hand moves towards your face pushing the hair out of the way and cradling your cheek in his palm. You don’t realise that you are crying until his thumb gently strokes the tears away.

His warm skin against yours feels so right and you didn’t know how much you needed it until just now as he hesitantly brings his other hand to cradle your other cheek while bringing your head forward to lean against his own. Both of you close your eyes as he lets out a gentle breath at the contact. Your hands finding their way automatically to his wrists, gently tracing themselves up to link your fingers with his, finally able to let out a shuddery breath of your own. “Hey there boss lady, whatd’ya say we get out of here?” His voice hesitant to break the silence, the whisper fading out into the dim room. One small nod of agreement from you and he places a soft kiss to your forehead. Nothing more is said as he reluctantly lets you go and grabs your phone and your bag in one hand and waits patiently for you to stand. As soon as you’re as steady as can be on your feet, he pulls you close to his body with his free arm and cradles your shaking form to his side, letting you lean all your weight on him. A soft squeeze to your shoulder and he’s leading you out of the room.

You don’t make eye contact with anyone as you leave the building but you feel as he nods towards people in acknowledgment also knowing that the look on his face will stop anyone in their tracks should they try and talk to you. Even Nat and Wanda.

You can see his car abandoned at the side of the road and another wave of guilt rushes over you as you can tell that he was more worried about getting to you than a parking fine or even wiping out other cars in his panic. He seems to sense your new wave of emotional distress as his hand rubs soothingly up and down your arm. Your head turns to bury you face into his chest but he hears you just fine as you mutter a small “I’m sorry.” He just tuts and kisses the top of your head as he whispers back, “Silly woman…got nothing to be sorry about”.

Unlocking the car, he quickly throws your bag into the back seat before opening the front passenger door and helping you climb up into the black SUV. Once he’s sure that you are safely strapped in and going nowhere he runs around the front of the car and jumps in the driver’s seat.

You both sit in comfortable silence as he speeds through the streets and its not long before the tall, suffocating city buildings start to disappear from view and finally it seems a little easier to breathe. The open fields and clear sky making you feel a little less claustrophobic.

As your tense shoulders seem to relax a small part of your brain kicks in and you realise just what this wonderful man has done for you. Without being asked, without being told how to, he has saved your life.  Not just this one act of kindness but by loving and understanding you, by always being there for you and by being your best friend.

Turning your head to look over at him, you find that he’s already watching you. It’s not much, but you give him a small smile and slowly reach over to take his free hand in both of yours. Bringing it up to your lips as you gently kiss each knuckle individually before linking your fingers between his and bringing his hand down to rest in your lap. He shoots you one of his dazzling smiles and squeezes your hand in reassurance at the same time.

You were in no way ‘fixed’ nor were you ever likely to be but at least you knew you had found someone in your life who could help you slay the monsters one at a time, carry you over the lava pools and be your light at the end of the pathway. That’s all anyone could ever ask for.

______________________________________

Let me know what you think.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Sledgehammer

Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 2620  Warnings: Angst, swearing

Song: The Other Side by Ruelle

The verdict was in, and the news wasn’t good though it was what you’d expected. Helen hadn’t even needed to make the trip once Bruce had sent her your scans. Your optic nerve was fired, no longer viable, with zero chance of ever being repaired. Even with your new crazy healing abilities, the cells of your optic nerves remained, for lack of a better term, dead.

The world had become dark and scary, something which set you clinging to Steve.

In a matter of days, your bullet wound and broken arm had completely healed, and Bruce had released you from the med-wing, but panic had set in as soon as you’d taken your first blind steps.

Everything was so loud, smelled so strong. Even the air on your skin was enough to make you flinch. Every step you took was terrifying, not knowing where you were, what was ahead of you.

Steve was your safety net. With him at your side, you could focus on the beat of his heart or the sound of his voice. His scent drowned out all others, and his touch kept you calm. It was like he could sense when you were close to having a meltdown and would arrive to take you away, back to your now shared room where the world was drowned out by all things Steve.

Today, day four since your diagnosis, you were sitting on the sofa in the lounge. Through the window you could feel the heat of the sun come and go on your skin, making you wonder if it was cloudy outside. It was quiet, for once, everyone off doing something, training somewhere, debriefing and whatnot.

Vision and Wanda had gone with Sharon to handle the mission the woman had brought with her when the others had come to get you and were due back today.

Guilt rippled inside you for that. If you’d been smart enough to talk to Steve, Garry would never have gotten the better of you, you wouldn’t be in this predicament, and wouldn’t be questioning your place in this compound now that you were, technically, a burden.

What worth did a blind Avenger slash Valkyrie really have?

It was a question which plagued you day after day, hour after hour. What good were you? In all your past lives you’d been Helgi’s shield. You’d fought at his side, kept him safe, and watched his back. How were you to do so now?

Sighing heavily, you plunked your elbow down on the armrest and set your chin in your palm.

Nearly silent footsteps walked toward you, the wiring of a cybernetic arm accompanying the strides, and you flinched, knowing it was coming but avoiding it like the plague. “Bucky,” you murmured, keeping your face turned away.

It did little good as he sat on the coffee table and took your hand. “Hey, darlin', how you doing?”

You shrugged. “Good as can be expected.”

Already the noise was building. His heartbeat, the sound of his arm, the shifting of the leather he wore. Weapons on his hips smelled strongly of gun oil and powder. The wind rushed and whistled past the windows. People talked and laughed in the hall.

All of it set your head pounding.

“I talked to Steve, about what that shit told you.”

“I know, he said.”

“I was gonna yell at you, you know, before…”

You gave a small smile. “You could still yell. I’m blind, not deaf, Buck.”

His hand tightened. “Yeah, yeah you are. I’m real sorry about that,” he said quietly.

“Not your fault, Bucky. I was the one too stupid to know it wasn’t you.” You couldn’t see him, but the shame still had you looking away.

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t tell the difference between you and that fucker when we found you. I damn near put a bullet in you. If you hadn’t known about Steve’s lisp… I may have killed you.”

You’d never smelled fear before, but even the trickle of it you were getting off Bucky was sour enough to make your nose wrinkle. “He was an excellent mimic.”

“He was. Once I calmed down, got past the mad and the scared, I came to that realization. I’m sorry for barking at you your first day back, doll. Real sorry when I ended up with Thor smacking his ham hock of a hand to my face,” he grumbled.

A snicker escaped, even as the pounding in your skull grew worse. “I wondered about that. Couldn’t tell if he’d only glared at you, or if he’d forcibly shut you up.”

He snorted, the sound a familiar one. “Try both. Only reason I didn’t clock him.”

“Steve won’t tell me what happened with Garry. He tries, but…” you shrugged. Every time Garry’s name came up, it was like Steve relived what happened in the compound. His heart would pound, and his breathing grow ragged until you grew so concerned you’d stopped asking, hating how upset he got.

Bucky shifted to the sofa, his hand never leaving yours. “It was tough on Steve after you were taken. He didn’t eat, hardly slept, worked out like a man possessed. He went through Hill’s files more than anyone besides Faye, and pieced it all together while the rest of us just tried to keep up.”

“He’s always smarter than people give him credit for,” you said with a soft smile.

“Oh, I know it, doll,” he chuckled. “When Thor and Loki showed up, Loki tore into him for losing you, said all kinds of crap to make Steve doubt himself and his place in your heart.”

And Loki was going to have his ass verbally handed to him when next the God of Mischief appeared. He’d said he’d stick around, but so far both he and Thor were AWOL.

“Steve took it hard, real hard. I’m glad you’ve cleared up that whole Helgi mystery.”

He swallowed, the sound a nervous one and made you smile. “Worried for a minute, were you?”

“Nah,” he scoffed. “Shit, doll face. You two look at each other, and the world disappears.”

Again you looked away, the words both pleasing and disconcerting.

“What’s that look for, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. What happened with Garry?”

“I shot him right as he shot you. Bruce called him a shit shot, but the fucker would have killed you had I been any slower. You did train him after all.” He bumped his shoulder into yours.

The praise, such as it was, made you blush. “So… he’s dead?” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well…” he hedged, fidgeting with his metal hand, causing the gears to spin and whir.

“What’s that mean?”

More movement, the scent of conditioner, metal through hair as he thrust his fingers through his locks, something he did when he was uncomfortable. “I shot him, but it only put him down. Steve was busy with you, so I cuffed shit for brains and hauled his ass back here.”

Everything inside you froze. All noise ended, silence falling so rapidly you thought you’d gone deaf as you slowly turned your head towards Bucky, looking in the direction of his voice. “The fucking glamour fairy is here?” you asked, sharp and deadly.

“He was. He disappeared the same time Thor and Loki did. No way he could have escaped, not where he was locked up, so we figure they took him.”

A shiver raced through your body, this one of excited knowing. “Oh… shit,” you snickered. “I could almost feel sorry for him if those two have him.”

“What you mean?” he gruffed. “I was looking forward to beating him bloody, as were a few others. Even the Hulk called dibs.”

A laugh slipped out with that thought. “He would be little more than a meat sack.”

“Such was Bruce’s explanation. Needless to say, the big guy isn't too pleased with the two Asgardians. Heard Bruce mutter puny gods a few times. Not sure he even noticed.”

“Don’t worry. If Loki has him, Garry will wish for death.” Maybe you shouldn’t sound nearly gleeful at the prospect of Loki torturing the man, but with all he’d put you through, with the outcome of his experiment now known, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Do I want to know?” Bucky murmured, clearly disconcerted by the look on your face.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself remember. “There are places on Asgard no one willingly ventures. Places where only a God would dare walk, and even they did so with caution. Loki loved such places. He had secret caves and tunnels all over, ins and outs no one knew of. Places where no one would hear the screams…”

“Doll, you’re scarier than I remember,” Bucky chuckled, patting your hand. “I think I like it.”

Grinning, you shook your head. “Just as long as you don’t wax poetic about your feelings, Barnes, we’re all good.”

“Nah. I like you, (Y/N). You're like a sister, but everyone can see you and Steve belong together. He deserves to have some happiness in his life.”

Again your face fell, your smile faltering as you looked away.

His metal hand was cold on your cheek when he turned your face back to his.  “No more bullshit, doll. What’s going on?”

Sighing, you deflated. “I’m just thinking of the future. Not much call for a blind Valkyrie.”

“Jeez, woman! It’s been less than a week. Give people some time to figure shit out,” he huffed.

“What’s to figure out, Buck? I’m blind. It’s permanent. Nothing Helen or Bruce or Tony can do will ever fix that! I’m no good here anymore. Gods!” Jerking your hand from his, you clenched it into a fist on your knee. “I can’t even pace anymore when I’m frustrated for fear of walking into something I can’t see! Everything is too loud, too intense. I can hear everything, and it’s driving me crazy! The only time it stops is when I’m with Steve, but what kind of life is this? What kind of burden will I become for him?”

“It will get better, darlin'. You’ve just got to give it time,” he tried to reassure you.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s not getting better, Bucky, it’s getting worse! Every day it gets harder to leave my room, leave Steve’s room. I don’t know what to do!” you wailed, tears falling freely down your face.

“Hey, now,” he murmured, dragging you into a hug. “It’s okay, darlin'. We need to figure this out. One step at a time.”

“I feel useless and…”

“And?”

“Unworthy.”

“Unworthy of what?” he asked softly.

“Of Steve.” More tears fell, sliding silently off your chin to soak into Bucky’s clothes. “I’m supposed to protect him, but I can’t even pick out matching socks anymore.”

“Oh, doll face,” he sighed, stroking your back.

Snuffling, you pushed him away. “Can you help me get back? I’ve got a killer headache.”

“Yeah, yeah I can get you there.” He helped you up, tucking your arm in his to make guiding you easier.

Every step filled you with crushing despair, the darkness so complete. It played havoc with your balance, causing you to cling tightly to Bucky, and everything was so much louder as you had to make your way past a bunch of communal spaces before the living quarters again grew quieter.

At the door, you paused to detach your arm from Bucky’s. “I’m good from here.”

“You sure, doll?” Worry coated his tone.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Nodding, you offered a fake smile and swung the door shut behind you. It was eight steps to the back of the sofa, another ten to the bedroom door — six to the edge of the bed which you sat on once you found it with your head down. Breathing slowly, you let the very essence which was Steve soak in, block out the noise, fill your heart.

You should leave, it was the only choice. Eventually, you’d become a burden Steve shouldn’t be tasked with handling, a distraction he couldn’t afford, but the idea of leaving, of walking away from your heart and soul hurt so much it set you grabbing for your chest. The love you shared was so big, so bold, it spanned generations, continually being reborn to live and love again. How could you walk away from that?

Falling back on the bed, you scooted around until you could pull Steve’s pillow to your chest and bury your nose in it.

***

When Bucky walked into his office with that look, Steve knew there was trouble. “What’s up?”

“Just talked to (Y/N),” he mumbled, clenching his fist in the back of the chair across from Steve.

“What’s wrong? She still unsure? You didn’t yell at her, did you?” Over the last few days, everyone who Garry had imitated had sat with (Y/N) clearing the air, even Tony whose harsh words had been his own, just coming at a low point of this whole fiasco.

“You need to go talk to her, Steve. She’s… not doing well.”

Instantly on his feet, Steve turned scared eyes to Bucky. “What? How? Did you take her back to medical?”

“Not physically, punk. Physically she’s as good as she’s gonna get. It’s her mental health that’s fucked up. I should know, I know depression when I see it.”

Bucky had suffered with it long enough; Steve knew in his heart the man was going to be right. “What did she say?”

“She feels useless, likely she feels like a burden. She’s lost a vital part of herself and doesn’t know how to adjust. Add that to her destiny, and she’s got to be feeling lost.”

“Destiny? What destiny?”

“Sometimes I wonder how you can be so smart and yet so stupid,” Bucky snorted.

“Bite me, jerk.”

“Kiss off, punk,” Bucky growled right back. “This Helgi stuff! She’s supposed to be your protector, and now she can’t! What good is a blind Valkyrie? That’s what she said to me.”

Steve flinched, well aware of her inner strife. “I know, she said the same to me. What good is a blind Avenger?”

“It’s horseshit. Even if she can’t go on missions again, don’t mean fuck all,” Bucky grumbled. “She can learn other skills. People do it all the time.”

Coming around his desk, Steve leaned against it and crossed his arms. “Could you?”

“Huh?” Bucky muttered.

“If you ended up blind tomorrow, could you face having to learn everything all over again, never pick up another gun, never be able to assist on a mission again? Or would it drive you a little crazy?”

Opening his mouth, Bucky then closed it with a snap. “Point taken.”

“I’ve got an idea, a plan, but I keep running up against a wall. The guy I’m looking for disappeared a while ago. FRIDAY’s looking, but so far she’s come up empty.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Bucky sighed. “Still, you best go talk to your girl, Steve. She thinks you’d be better off without her.”

“The fuck you just say?” Steve snarled. “After everything, she’s just gonna give up?”

“Pal, I’m just the messenger.” Bucky held up his hands. “I took her back to your room and came straight here.”

Pointing at his desk, Steve snapped, “Plant your ass, write the reports, and pray FRIDAY finds the guy I’m looking for… quickly!” Striding out of the room, he slammed the door behind him.

Bucky chuckled softly, knowing he’d done good. He wasn’t about to let Steve lose the one thing he wanted most in the entire world, no matter what she thought was right.

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