#bc of the jars steve found

[bucksangel]

Honeysuckle

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 3

word count: 4k

summary: “Honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

or - your Alphas take such good care of you. their mere presence brightens up your day, so when your Alphas have a rough day you take it upon yourself to show them how good of an Omega you can be, that you can provide for them too.

warnings: 18+, mild suggestive thoughts, i apologize to ur dentists bc there’s so much fluff it might give you a toothache, omega is very shy and awkward but steve and bucky are fond and patient, fluff, kissing, tw for steve using 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, bucky needs some lovin’

a/n: this is dedicated to the loml @buckysbarne and @buckysprettybaby who also helped beta <3

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

“Babe -“ Bucky sighs, his head hanging low and hands clenched into tight fists. “I’ll be okay.”

Steve huffs, walking up to his boyfriend and wrapping one arm around his Alphas waist, cupping his cheek with his other hand.

“It’s okay, she’ll understand,” Steve whispers softly, leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his mate’s forehead before pulling back and guiding Bucky to look up at him. He quickly dips his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.

“What if she doesn’t?” Bucky mumbles, shame and embarrassment flooding his body.

Why can’t he just be normal?

The day started horribly; Bucky woke up at around seven in the morning from a particularly harrowing nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, so it was very unwelcoming. This one, unlike other nightmares he’s had, was terrifying in a way he’d never felt.

He knows they’re gone, that Hydra and its agents have been obliterated, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t occasionally get anxious over the ‘what ifs’ of any potential harm Steve could go through should Hydra get him.

This ‘what if’ manifested in the form of you getting captured too. Even if he and Steve haven’t mated with you yet, they both know in their bones that you were crafted by any gods that exist to complete them. And the thought of you and Steve getting taken from him is far worse than anything Hydra could ever do to him.

Steve had to shake him awake, and he hadn’t been able to stop crying long enough to explain what had happened. After ten minutes of shaking and sobbing into his mate’s chest, he was finally able to articulate the horrifying images that now plague his mind, Steve had held him close, and he had kissed his cheeks and forehead and hairline, all while cooing words of affirmation and love.

The day only got worse from there. After the dream, it started with small things; he burned his hand while trying to make coffee - then spilled the coffee all over his favorite shirt. He ran out of his shampoo and had to use Steve’s - and, listen, Bucky is fully convinced that he survived Hydra because the universe wanted them together again, but Steve could definitely use some better shower products. The whole ‘two-in-one’ thing just doesn’t cut it for Bucky.

But then they had to meet up with their teammates for a briefing over a mission that Bucky is really not excited about, and found out the original one-day mission was going to be three days. Three whole days without you? Luckily Steve is coming with him, but then he thought about you being without both of them and started getting anxious. Now, even though you all haven’t been together for long, and they both know you can handle yourself, they detest the idea of leaving you for an extended period.

They’d managed to sneak in a few texts to you. Wishing you a good day at work, sending heart emojis when you send them a picture of a cute dog you saw while walking to the studio - Sam and Natasha spent a long time trying to get the men to understand modern language - and sending you pictures of them while they were too bored to listen to Tony talk.

But then they went to a coffee shop intending to grab their coffee and rush back to their apartment to get a few things so they could pick you up from work and take you to the new ice cream shop that opened up a few blocks from your studio. Dark clouds came rushing overhead while they were waiting for their drinks, and they decided to wait out the storm in a corner booth.

But people were staring, giving them - mainly Bucky - nervous glances, and a few people at the table next to them ate quicker than someone usually would and then placed a wad of cash on the table before rushing out.

Suddenly the idea of getting ice cream doesn’t sound so appealing.

Steve noticed because he’s so attuned to his mate that he knows Bucky is dejected, Bucky is hurt, he’s tired. Tired of people still judging him. Tired of being accused of things that he had no control over. They didn’t stay long, deciding that getting soaked while racing home was better than being in a place that’s now making Bucky feel unsafe.

Bucky’s been fighting with himself ever since they got home and changed out of their wet clothes. He wants to spend time with you more than anything, and you’ve been excited about this date ever since they told you, and Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t give you anything you want. But he really doesn’t think he can handle being in public right now.

His body is hurting with how bad he’s trying to force the negativity out of his mind enough so he can enjoy being with you, but it’s hard. And Steve telling him that you’ll understand that he can’t go out breaks him. His fists clench tighter.

Bucky wants to be normal for you. He wants to go out with his mates and not get worried about getting less-than-friendly looks at the three of you.

“I’m going to call her,” Steve says calmly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him in tight while Bucky’s body starts to shake with how badly he wants to cry. “I’ll call her and I’ll tell her that you’re not feeling well, but we’ll go to her studio tomorrow for lunch. Okay?”

Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath before nodding, trying his hardest to not blame himself when he imagines the look on your face as Steve tells you they have to cancel. Steve kisses his mate's forehead and then untangles himself so he can get his phone.

It doesn’t take long for you to answer, and Bucky can hear your chipper “Hi Stevie!” and suddenly he wants to cry harder. He also hears Steve telling you that Bucky isn’t feeling well and that they’ll come visit you tomorrow. You go quiet for a moment before asking Steve to pass the phone to your other Alpha. And when Bucky mumbles, “Hey, honey,” he knows you can hear that he’s holding back tears.

“Hi, Alpha,” Your sweet voice immediately fills him with warmth, images of your smile filling his head. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No,” Bucky clears his throat, trying to force himself to not feel bad about it. “I’m really sorry, honey. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

You pause, and suddenly Bucky is worried that you’re mad. But before his mind can spiral into more negative thoughts, your voice - soft and shy - asks if he’s home. And when he tells you that he is, you simply say “good,” and then hang up.

Well, fuck. Bucky tries to convince himself that you’re not upset, but Steve can see that it’s not working well. And at his boyfriend's suggestion of a nap, he trudges upstairs, lying down in bed and wishing upon every star in the universe that you’ll forgive him.

____________

When you heard that Bucky wasn’t feeling well you immediately thought of the worst. Is he sick? Well, that doesn’t make sense, he’s a super soldier after all. Is he hurt? That’s a possibility, their jobs are tough.

Does he… not want to see you? As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you dismiss it. Bucky and Steve have shown over and over that they like you and want to be with you. The word ‘love’ flashes through your mind but you dismiss that as well. It’s too soon, right?

No matter what’s actually going on, you know you need to make him feel better. As soon as you hung up the phone you gathered everything you needed to make apple pies. But then you faltered, what if he doesn’t like apple pie? Well, you have things to make brownies, and you know both Alphas love them. So you took out everything needed to make brownies with the intention of bringing them over when they were done.

But then a thought popped up. Would they even want you in their house? There were a few times when you told them they could come inside your apartment while you finished getting ready for a date night, but they politely declined. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now you’re worried you might be crossing a line.

You’ve just put the mixture in the oven when you decide that you’ll just drop them off and then leave. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well. While the brownies cook, you run to your bedroom to change into somewhat presentable clothes. You don’t bother getting all dressed up since you’re not going anywhere but your Alphas’ place, and even then you won’t be staying long.

By the time the dessert is done and put into a container, you’ve talked yourself in and out of going several times. Finally, after several minutes of having a mild freak-out, you gather the courage to gather your things and get in your car.

The entire drive has you a little on edge, though you know you have to do it. Not necessarily out of obligation, but because you want to make your Alpha’s happy. They’re always doing little things for you; buying you new plush blankets, getting you food on their way to visit your studio, Steve had even given you a sweater that both he and Bucky regularly wear - fully knowing and hoping you’ll use it for your nest.

Those men make you happier than anyone else ever could, you relish in their praise, your whole body lit up in flames whenever they get all sweet on you - which is all the time, neither man can resist kissing you, hugging you, telling you how you’re the sweetest Omega to ever exist.

They make you happy, and you will do everything you can to make them happy too. You want to be the perfect Omega for them, to show them that you can provide for them too, and that thought is what fuels you to park outside of their house and gather everything.

Your confidence wanes when you get to the front door, anxious again that the Alphas would be upset that you came over. You don’t even get a chance to think about leaving because the door opens wide, and Steve stands there with a smile.

“Honey,” He says, giving you that same longing gaze he always gives you. His eyes travel down to the container you’re holding, his smile growing wider while you cast your eyes down to the floor nervously. “What is that?”

A part of you wants to laugh, you know his heightened sense of smell can already figure it out. You don’t though, you merely shuffle on the porch nervously.

“W-Well I - um… I know Bucky isn’t feeling well, and I wanted to drop off some brownies for you guys.” Your eyes suddenly go wide, a small panicked noise leaving your lips. “Which I just now realized is probably not a good thing for Bucky to eat right now.”

You kind of want to smack your forehead. You were so focused on trying to be helpful that you didn’t even think of what would actually help Bucky feel better. Sensing your growing panic, Steve hums softly, reaching out and taking the dessert from your hands.

“That’s really sweet, honey,” Steve purrs, transferring the container to one hand so he can take your hand in his free one. “Thank you.”

An unexpected squeak leaves your lips, warmth filling your body as you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile up at him shyly.

“Y-You’re welcome, Stevie.” Your voice is soft, nearly indiscernible except for your Alpha with his advanced hearing. “Um, just… I guess you can text me later and tell me how they taste?” It’s phrased as an uncertain question because you don’t want to make him feel like he has to, but you desperately hope he does. You need their praise more than air.

“You’re not staying?”

That question has your head snapping up so you can look at him directly, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you take in his equally confused gaze.

“I - um. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you never want to come in my house, so I just figured you wouldn’t want me in yours.” Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like, and the hope that he’d invite you in is creeping up. “Which is fine! You - you don’t have to, and I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well.”

Steve sighs, his scent souring a little as though he’s disappointed, and now you’re anxious over possibly saying something wrong. But when he senses your growing panic, he tugs on your hand until you follow him inside. And immediately, the aroma of both Bucky and Steve’s scent calms you down.

“Of course we want you here, sweet Omega.” Steve smiles at you again, pulling you further into the house until you get to the kitchen not far from the entryway. He drops your hand so he can place the food on the counter. The Alpha quickly moves toward you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. Plush, soft lips land on the top of your head, and they linger there for a few moments.

As though he sensed your arrival, Bucky comes rushing into the kitchen with a wide smile.

“Omega,” He says, walking toward you and Steve with purpose so he can wrap around you too.

“Our sweet girl brought us some brownies since you aren’t feeling well.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and they both release their hold on you so you can turn around and face Bucky.

Bucky goes silent, and when you place your hands on his chest you can feel how his heart rate picks up. And after a few moments of simply staring into your eyes, his smile softens, his body relaxing.

“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas’ day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles into your neck as he presses soft and chaste kisses to the area. “You’re perfect.”

You can’t help the nervous chuckle that passes through your lips, nor can you stop yourself from shaking your head, immediately trying to deny it. While you love praise, specifically theirs, you don’t really feel like you deserve it sometimes. How can these two perfect Alpha’s possibly be interested in you? You’re not too sure why they like you, but you try not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to overthink everything and spiral into self-doubt, which would then lead you to sabotage the relationship, and you absolutely don’t want that.

“I-It’s nothing, really. I just want to make you feel better.” Your voice is small and shy, and you cast your eyes downward when Bucky pulls away from you to look at you with such intensity that it makes your entire body go warm. Your heartbeat speeds up when Steve steps back too and moves so he can stand beside Bucky and look at you directly.

“It’s not nothing, baby,” Steve sighs, reaching out and placing a large hand on the back of your neck and turning your head upwards so he can hold your gaze, and it’s absolutely impossible to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Oh, how you want to feel his hands on… other parts of your body.

“It’s thoughtful,” Bucky adds, lightly squeezing your hips. “We mean it; thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You say softly, smiling at both of them and reaching out to place your hands on each Alpha’s chests. In a quick and bold move, you lean up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on Steve’s lips, then move over to Bucky.

Bucky, however, decides a single peck isn’t enough. Steve keeps his hand on the back of your neck and angles your head so it’s easier for Bucky to slide his tongue along your bottom lip and take advantage of your surprised squeak by slipping his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your little gasps and sighs, snaking his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.

The intensity of the kiss comes to a halt when Steve’s stomach rumbles. You and Bucky break apart with breathless chuckles, turning to look at Steve’s sheepish expression.

“Sorry,” He laughs, sliding his hand from your neck to the side of your face, and he smiles wider when you nuzzle and kiss his palm. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“I can cook for you!” You say quickly, surprised with yourself by how fast you were to offer. You’re not the best cook, but depending on what food they have you’re pretty sure you whip up something presentable. Plus, your inner Omega is just aching to please them.

“You don’t need to do that, honey,” Bucky says, stepping back but keeping one hand on your back. “We can just order something.”

“Please?” You ask softly, smiling up at him and using the fact that he can never say no to your pout to your advantage. “I want to.”

Both men sigh, fully knowing that they could never deny you anything you want. So, they both nod, stepping aside so you can go to their fridge.

“You can just make something easy, it doesn’t matter to us.” Steve kisses your forehead, then smiles as he turns to look at Bucky while you go about finding something to cook. Pulling him in close, Steve quickly kisses Bucky’s lips and murmurs, “Told ya she’d understand.”

____________

“Told ya she’d understand.”

Steve chuckles when Bucky playfully shoves his elbow into his Alpha’s stomach. And Steve absolutely cannot stop himself from kissing Bucky again. And one more time. He can’t help it though, Bucky was feeling so awful earlier, and seeing his genuine smile and sparkling eyes fills him with happiness.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky mumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, wiggling out of Steve’s hold so he can go sit at the kitchen island. Steve follows him, muttering “jerk” low under his breath as he sits next to Bucky.

The two men sit side by side, both with love-stricken gazes and twinkling eyes as they watch you flit around the kitchen happily, grabbing things here and there. They aren’t too sure what exactly you’re making, but it starts smelling good in no time. But the underlying scent of happiness coming from all three of you is what really strikes Bucky’s heart.

And in no time at all the food has been finished, and you make sure to pile their plates full of the food.

“I know spaghetti is boring, but I added a few spices so I hope you like it.” Your voice is soft and shy as you present them with their plates, and your rapidly beating heart showcases your nerves. You’re desperately hoping they like it - maybe praise you a bit for taking care of them.

“We’ll love it,” Steve says quickly, getting off the chair and walking up to you with a wide smile. “We’ll love anything you make us, honey.”

The squeak you let out makes both Alphas chuckle, giving you such soft gazes that makes you want to bare your neck to them in submission. With that, Steve and Bucky take their food and guide you to the couch in the living room, being careful as they sit down while Bucky pulls you into his lap.

They take time eating, occasionally feeding you despite your assurances that you already ate before you came over. They don’t care though, because they’ll be damned if they don’t dote on you for making them feel better.

And when the food has been eaten, Bucky gives you a glare when you offer to do dishes. “You’ve worked hard enough, honey,” Bucky tells you, wrapping his arms tighter around you to keep you in place.

It’s at that moment that Bucky realizes that this, the three of you under one roof, on one couch, is what home is for him. With you in his lap and Steve cuddled into his side, he knows that he’s the luckiest guy in the world, how can’t he be? He has his Alpha; the greatest love of his life, and you; the sweetest Omega to ever exist who’s teaching Bucky how to be happy in ways he never thought possible.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you make a slightly distressed sound, your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“Buck?” Steve coos, bringing up a hand so he can run his finger through his mate’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes his eyes, then takes hold of one of your hands so he can kiss your knuckles. He smiles, so soft and sweet and innocent, smiling wider when Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s stupid,” Bucky says with a quiet huff and shrugs. “I just… Today was shit, like, awful. And I’ve been happy all these years with Steve by my side, but other than right now, the only time I can remember feeling this happy was when I was finally reunited with him.”

Bucky briefly glances over at Steve, giving him that soft and adoring look he always gives him, then looks back at you and holds your gaze.

“You make me happy, Omega.”

Your eyes go wide, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Because, while you don’t know everything about what’s transpired in their lives and relationship, you know that it must be a pretty big deal for him to say this. And it fills you with a feeling dangerously close to love, but you can’t help it. Bucky’s been through the depths of hell and back, and he deserves everything good in the world. And you being able to give him some of that goodness just makes you want to cry.

“You-“ You cut yourself off, clearing your throat to suppress the waver in your voice. “You make me happy too. Both of you.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve purrs, reaching across Bucky to give you a tender kiss.

And when you break away from Steve, you turn to give Bucky a kiss as well, and Bucky? Well, Bucky is pretty sure (re: totally confident) that he loves you. He knows Steve does too, which makes everything easier. Knowing that they’re on the same page about their feelings for you gives him reassurance that maybe this could work out.

He wants to mate with you, he wants to be with you in every way possible. And when you pull away and smile at your Alphas with that sweet and tender way you always do, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you want that too.

So who can really blame him when Bucky asks, “Will you mate with us?”

From next to him, Steve doesn’t visibly react, though his heartbeat speeding up and the flush creeping up on his face tells Bucky that he wants that too - they’ve also spoken about it in length, so he knows he’s not just speaking for himself.

All the two men can do now is wait for your answer with bated breaths. It comes only a half of a second later.

“Of course.”

m&h masterlist: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @wandaneedstherapy / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @stuckysbike / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @lethargicluv / @perfectlyboring / @monicachic13 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @matchat3a  / @mollygetssherlockcoffee / @normalgirlnextdoor / @lolitsbuckybarnes / @rippedpiece / @biteofcherry

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart

[kitashousewife]

i wish i knew you wanted me

an: i've been swimming around with this idea for a while! this is loosely based on the song bad habit by steve lacy :D

pairings: timeskip!kuroo x fem!reader

warnings: childhood neighbor!reader, kuroo is down horrendous, food mentions, reader has a shitty bf (neglectful, unkind to reader) anxiety mentions, slight angst, fluffy ending, lots of fluff bc kuroo is a sweetie, lowercase intentional

word count: 3k

-

you've always loved kuroo. ever since you were 8, in fact. kuroo loves you too, but just a little differently.

that's because he is in love with you.

you'll never forget the day you met him. carrying your small backpack up the steps of your new home, a ball rolled in front of your feet.

"sorry! did i trip ya?" a rooster-haired boy stumbled over and grabbed the ball. he took your hand in his and introduced you to his friend kenma. before you had a chance to talk to them, you were whisked away by your parents.

every day of your childhood was spent with them, in some way or another. waiting for the bus together, playing on the sidewalk after school, even the occasional sleep over on the weekends. kenma and kuroo are the best friends anyone could ask for.

kuroo thinks he started to love you when you were 10 years old. one day, as the three of you stepped off the school bus, you tripped and scraped your knee. the worry he felt for you was strong, and hated seeing you in pain. ever since that day, kuroo has tried his best to keep you happy and smiling.

he started by giving you little gifts. a bouquet of dandelions from recess, that you carefully brought all the way home and placed in a jar. he gave you tons of rocks he found over the years, even giving you his favorite snacks to share.

you think you started to love kuroo when you were 12 years old. you were in middle school, walking down the street with kuroo and kenma, talking about an upcoming volleyball match that they had. a boy from school passed by and tripped you, calling you names and laughing as he walked away. you blinked tears back, assuring kenma and kuroo that you were fine, it was no big deal. without second thought, kuroo turned around and pushed the other boy, which started a fight that you and kenma had to separate. kuroo got a black eye, but he never complained.

kuroo fell in love with you when the three of you were first years in high school. one day, when he got home from a run, he saw you sitting on your front steps reading a book. you looked perfect. eyes focused on the pages in front of you, almost glowing in the afternoon sun. once he got closer, he realized you were reading his favorite book.

"good book?"

you peak over the top of the pages and smile. "so far, yes."

"what gave you the idea to read that one?"

a blush coats your cheeks and you return to reading.

"i just had a good recommendation."

kuroo spent the next two days speed reading the novel so that by the time you finished, he could ask you all about it. two weeks after that day, though, he realized that you didn't read it for him.

the last day of your first year, kenma and kuroo had been looking everywhere for you. you had plans to walk home together, and do your annual all-nighter to celebrate the end of another year.

"i haven't seen her all day," kenma mumbles, eyes trained on the game in his hands.

"me neither, but she couldn't have forgotten. we do this every year," kuroo's words trail off as you come around the corner, hand in hand with one of the most popular boys in your school. his heart drops, his stomach flips and twists. as soon as you reach his gaze, you feel the exact same way.

the entire night, in the glow of kenma's video games, kuroo seethed. there were so many chances, so many opportunities for him to have said something, made any kind of move. and now it doesn't matter. that night, he decided that he was going to put all of his focus on volleyball and studies. but still, he never stopped being your friend. he would never admit it, but every new years, every time he saw a shooting star, and every single other time he was given the opportunity to make a wish, he would wish for you.

high school flew by, as did college. the three of you stayed in close contact, calling every week, visiting each other every chance you all in town during your college years. you even went on a trip with kenma for a couple days for one of the events he was invited to. you remember that entire trip, all you wanted was for kuroo to be with you. that was the first sign that you were ready to leave your high school boyfriend.

the two of you had been together for five years now. things were great at first, as they always are. flowers, special dates, notes passed through classes, stolen kisses in crowded hallways. but, as soon as the honeymoon phase was over, you began to see who he really was. a man who put everything else first, keeping you to the side until he really needed you.

and you've had enough.

one night, after a particularly long shift, you had sat down in the kitchen to enjoy some takeout before your weekly facetime with your two best friends. right before the call starts, your boyfriend walks in.

"you're still talking to them?"

you tilt your head to the side. "what do you mean? they're my best friends, you know that."

he scoffs. "don't you think that it's time to grow up? you know, make some new friends?"

you feel your palms start to sweat, and anger starts to fill in your chest. "why would you even suggest that?"

he shoots you an annoyed look. "don't get all defensive, alright? i just think it might be time to move on from that twitch streamer and whatever his name is."

an incoming call appears on the screen from kenma, which you accept immediately. forgetting to mute yourself, you turn to your boyfriend one last time. "his name is kuroo, and maybe it's best if you just go home for the night."

he rolls his eyes. "whatever,"

as if it was on purpose, directly behind your boyfriend is a photo of you and kuroo at graduation. wide smiles, bright eyes, full of excitement for the future. when you look at the photo, you realize you haven't smiled that genuinely in months.

you want to be happy again.

"actually, i think it's best if we break up."

kenma sits on the other end of the call, jaw dropped while he watches the entire scene unfold. he knows you probably meant to mute yourself, but he doesn't have the heart to tell you. kenma has hated your boyfriend for years, truth be told. kenma also knows that his best friend is deeply in love with you.

that same friend should be hopping on the call any second now.

kenma watches your boyfriend stutter, mumble something under his breath that the mic couldn't quite pick up, and hears your apartment door slam shut. you let out a deep breath and grab your phone once more, letting a small gasp when you realize that you are in fact, not muted.

"k-kenma!" you cheer, voice shaking slightly. you wince. "d-did, did you hear that?"

he nods, pretending to be focused on his game. "yeah, i heard."

you groan and put your head down on your kitchen table. "please don't tell anyone."

he hums. "i won-"

"not kuroo, either."

he looks at the screen and nods. "i wouldn't. i promise."

feeling a little relief, you rub your eyes before picking up the phone again. "hey, kenma? i think i'm going to just head to bed. i'm really sorry. i'll call again in a few days, yeah?"

kenma nods once more and gives you a small smile. "you text me whenever you need to."

as soon as your face disappears from the screen, kuroo's appears. kenma chuckles, which earns a confused face from his best friend.

"what's that for?"

"she just left. she wasn't feeling to well, but said she would give us a call a different day."

kuroo was dying to see you, to see your face. he loved his job, it's a dream, but lately he is feeling stuck. he was really looking forward to this week's call. he knew your voice and pretty laugh could give him the boost he needed to keep going.

sensing kuroo's disappointment, kenma sends him an invite for the match he's about to begin. "wanna hop on?"

kuroo looks at the same photo you have from graduation, placed on top of his dresser, and lets out a sigh.

"yeah, why not."

-

it's been over a week since the call. you haven't talked to your now ex-boyfriend since that night either, or anyone for that matter. you've felt down, not because you miss your ex, but because you just feel alone.

kenma notices this.

hey, you doing okay?

you feel a little better after seeing kenma's name.

i'm okay. i miss you guys

kenma debates even saying this, but decides he can't take it anymore.

kuroo misses you. he's been asking about you for a week now.

your heart skips a beat at his name. you've been avoiding him, not because you don't want to see him, but because you can't stop thinking about him. you wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you couldn't help but think about how kuroo would treat you. he wouldn't scoff at you when you're having a good time. he wouldn't blow you off, night after night, just to hang out with his friends.

the buzz of your phone brings you out of your thoughts.

it's really annoying. you better message him before i drive him to your apartment.

you smile for the first time in days.

fine. anything for you

-

kuroo walks out of his last meeting of the day, exhausted and ready to go home. unfortunately, he still has two hours to go before he is free for the weekend. pulling his phone out of his pocket, he is surprised to see text notifications. he checks the text from kenma first.

you're welcome.

his face twists with confusion, but before he can respond, he sees your name in his notifications as well.

hi tetsu! i miss you

when can i see you again?

his heart stops. he feels like he could faint.

tonight. come over, ill be home by 6

he doesn't have time to worry if that text was too forward, not when his head is filled with thoughts of you. hugging you, seeing you, watching the way your nose scrunches at the nicknames he gives you.

-

your feet shuffle up to kuroo’s door, right at 6. you walk a little slower as anxious thoughts fill your mind. am i too early? is he just seeing me because he feels bad? what if it’s awkward, i haven’t seen him in-

“you’re here! come in!” kuroo exclaims, pulling you in by the grasp of his hand. as soon as you step into his apartment, he wraps his arms around you and spins you around, filling the room with your laughter.

“tetsuro! put me down!” you laugh, hands gripping the white dress shirt he still has on. setting you down with a chuckle of his own, you look him in the eyes for the first time in weeks.

you forget how to breathe.

somehow, he looks older. his hair is still a little unruly, but much better maintained than before. his eyes are full of love. you pout a little when you see how tired he looks.

“tetsu’, you look tired,” you sigh, looking at the dark circles sitting directly under his eyes.

he offers you a small smile. “works been kicking my ass, that’s for sure. but,” he sing songs, grabbing two cups for tea. “i feel much better after seeing you.”

what would normally be a friendly comment between the two of you, now causes your cheeks to heat up slightly. “how have you been, besides work?”

his fingers tap against the counter tops. a habit he picked up as a child that has stuck with him to this day. “besides work, i can’t complain,” he lies. “how about you?” he almost didn’t want to ask. his promise to himself to make you smile and protect you from hurt as a child is still true to this day.

“works been okay, it hasn’t been too busy,” your tone sounds convincing, but he can tell in your eyes there’s more to say. “i also, well, how do i put this,”

“is everything oka-“

“we broke up.”

kuroo’s jaw drops. “what!” he almost shouts, but when he notices how startled you are, he clears his throat. “i’m sorry, u-um, let me get you some tea,”

the two of you sit in silence for a few moments while kuroo pours tea in each of your mugs. he doesn’t want to rush you, by any means, but he can tell you’re hurting.

“you don’t have to talk about it, you know.”

you sigh. “but i need to. i’ve been keeping it to myself for a week now, and i know it’s not healthy to-“ you pause your rambling and look at kuroo. his eyes are swimming with concern and love. he hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked in, giving you his full attention. “i just decided it would be better if we separated.”

kuroo nods. inside, he is a nervous wreck. it’s been years since high school, yet he still can’t get himself to make any type of move. every time his mouth opens, he shuts it quickly, swallowing back the words.

he scratches the back of his head with a sigh of your name. "you can talk about it whenever you're ready. no rush," he smiles at you and nudges your mug with his. picking it up in both hands, you smile but set it down. kuroo raises an eyebrow.

"do you remember the night after graduation?"

he nods. of course he does. that's the night the two of you stayed up til 3, talking about the future, about college, your fears, and excitements. the two of you laughed until you cried, nearly falling asleep on his bedroom floor with tears in your eyes.

"why do you ask?"

a small smile forms on your face, but kuroo can tell there's some sadness behind it. "i think that was the last time i was truly happy."

he stands up and comes by your side, hugging you while you sit down. he doesn't say anything, but you don't need him to.

kuroo decides this is his chance. he takes a few steps towards his living room and loosens his tie.

"do you remember the work party i took you to last month?"

with a roll of your eyes, you stand up and walk over to his place on the couch. flopping down next to him, you begin to laugh.

"oh my god, of course i do. how could i forget tripping in front of your colleagues and spilling a drink all over myself and your boss?"

kuroo can't help but laugh. it was a sad sight, watching you trip over your own feet, spilling your drink and his all over his boss who happened to be right in your path.

"why would you bring that up!" you playfully slap his arms. raising his hands to protect himself, he takes a deep breath.

"you looked absolutely stunning that night."

your laugh trails off and you feel your heart beating quicker and quicker by the second.

"thank you, tetsuro," you mumble.

"you've always been so beautiful," he whispers and places his warm hand over your own. he almost pulls away, worried that he's scared you. shoving down the fear that bubbles in his stomach, kuroo grabs both of your hands in his.

"i'm in love with you."

you open your mouth to say anything, tell him anything that you can to let him know you feel the same way, but words don't come out.

"since we were 15, i-i just have always loved you, and i just needed to finally tell you." his eyes examine your face, trying to read any emotions that cross it. he's already in deep, so he might as well keep going.

"i remember when you started dating him, god, i was so angry. at myself. i let you get away. and it killed me to see you so upset and hurt. every call we had, i could see it in your eyes. and i just love you so much, i can't-"

"i love you too," you whisper, placing your hand on his cheek. the tip of your finger rests over his pulse, and you feel terrible at how quick it's beating.

"w-what?"

"i love you too. i have for a long time, i just-" you stop, and shake your head. "do you want to go out sometime? just you and i, maybe we coul-"

kuroo cuts you off by placing his lips on yours. his lips are soft, pulling away to linger right above yours. you close the gap again, pulling him closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. he only pulls away when he absolutely has to, taking a deep breath. he can't help the giddy smile that appears.

"i don't want to be that guy," he laughs. "but i've literally been waiting years to do that."

leaning into his warm body, kuroo holds you tight. suddenly he sits up, reaching into his back pocket for something. grabbing his phone you see him giggling to himself.

"thinking about the company dinner again?"

"no, no. this is much better. just a sec,"

kuroo snaps a quick photo of the two of you, arm wrapped around you, fingers intertwined. he giggles again and hits send. as soon as he sees delivered, he locks his phone and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

a text to kenma has been sent.

Attachment: 1 image

remember that bet we made when we were 16? i'll take my money now.

[purplepixel]

Rise fan watched and finished 2012 TMNT

Comparing the first episode to the last is like night and day to me.

2012 did not know who it wanted to be in the beginning but over the course of 5 seasons, it slowly found its footing and its identity. It is an incredibly flawed show both in writing and animation, but it's also really fun. And anytime jj Conway is boarding you KNOW it's going to slap. It does some god awful story choices (why do the characters hate each other at the beginning? why are we pushing karai/Leo? Why are the characters undereating/overreacting to this situation? Why is shredder the most boring villain?) but also does some REALLY COOL THINGS. So many insane plotlines occur and there are some great character moments.

Most people that follow this blog are rise fans, and I'm actually very curious to know how many of you have seen this show. It was initially a very jarring experience for me going from a fast paced, colorful show that KNEW WHO IT WAS AND KNEW WHAT IT WANTED TO BE to the slower paced show that fought wanting to grow and change its story and characters but also tried to hold onto a status quo.

While I enjoyed 2012, I would not recommend this show to anyone who's not a TMNT fan. Like imo, it does not hold a candle to shows like atla, Steve universe, gravity falls, owl house, etc. And also I refuse to be like "oh it gets better after you watch the first two seasons" like naaah. No one's got time for that. This show is one that I'll rip into mercilessly in terms of the writing but I'll also be the first to defend it. I have a lot of thoughts specifically on April. 2012 April defender but not for the reasons you think. The real villain was the writers. Anyway.

This show is honestly a testimony to how I am willing to critique something negatively but also still enjoy it for what it does have to offer. Maybe also a little of what it could have been.

I will say I am very disappointed that people got so mad this show ended that they slept on rise. Maybe its bc we now live in an era where shows get one season but are split in three and pretend to be multiple seasons, or really good shows that have so much story to tell get cancelled too early. But y'all ended on a solid note with season 5. I feel sad I finished 2012, but damn I thought 2012 was going to end on a cliffhanger or something with the way people were so upset that rise was replacing it. This was not a teen titans situation.

Anyways, 2012 is simultaneously the worst and the best. If anyone wants to talk 2012 TMNT, my asks are open. I have so much to say about this iteration of the turtles.

Shout-out to my bestie @cottoncandywoof for sticking with me on our weekly watching of this show. In Gavin Hignight we trust 😌✊

[steviestits]

Traveling, Seeking, Found - Part 1

Click here to go to the fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley Rating: T Summary: Steve Harrington is a former archeologist, who tanked his career after returning scarred from the horrors he saw when he was drafted into the Great War (WWI) and now more focuses on drowning himself in booze and gambling to forget while attempting to help boost Robin’s, his adoptive sister’s, career as she tries to make a name for herself as an Egyptologist. Eddie is a Medjai warrior, who let a French Foreign Legion soldier go, not expecting her to survive the harsh desert. Nancy defied his expectations, and now Eddie must fix his mistake before the mummy that his people have guarded for centuries is released. (Mummy/Mummy Returns AU, Steve is Jonathan, Robin is Evie, Eddie is Ardeth, and Nancy is Rick, Rick/Evie, Jonathan/Ardeth) Eventual Trigger Warning: Off-Screen MPreg in the Mummy Returns section

As Eddie and the other Medjai rode up to the cliff, he could see that the battle was nearing its end. The French Foreign Legion had been driven back by the men on horses all the way to a ruined city barely poking its way out of the shifting sands of the Sahara. They lined up behind broken pillars, aiming their guns as they prepared to make their last stand in hopes that maybe if they fought hard enough, they would make it out of the battle alive. Eddie didn’t care about the battle, though, what he cared about was protecting the ruined city of Hamunaptra from being disturbed and the vile creature held within it from being resurrected.

Everything started before Eddie was born in the city of Thebes, City of the Living, during Pharaoh Seti the First’s rule in the year 1290 BC. It was home not only to Imhotep, the pharaoh’s high priest and keeper of the dead, but also the pharaoh’s mistress, Anck-su-namun, who no other man could touch. However, for their love, they were willing to risk everything and devised a plan to do away with Seti the First to free Anck-su-namun from his grasp.

The two would lure Seti into Anck-su-namun’s bedchambers and show him that another had claimed his prize right before they stabbed him to death. Afterwards, they would claim that assassins came in during the night, knowing no one would question them as they were who the pharaoh trusted most. Except the pharaoh’s daughter, Nefertiti, witnessed the murder and alerted the Medjai who stood guard, ruining their carefully laid schemes.

Imhotep was forced to flee into the night without is beloved as he was the only one who could resurrect Anck-su-namun from the dead. Cornered, she took her own life before the Medjai could descend upon her, assured by her lover that he would do anything to bring her back, which he did. He broke into her tomb with his most loyal of priests then stole her body, bringing it here, to Hamunaptra, City of the Dead and ancient burial site for the sons of pharaohs.

To revive Anck-su-namun, Imhotep would anger the gods he had previously worshiped by traveling deep within Hamunaptra where he stole the sacred Book of the Dead that was housed there. As Anck-su-namun had been mummified, her soul had already been sent to the underworld and vital organs separated into five canopic jars, but they were still fresh. It became a race against time for Imhotep to revive his beloved before the organs shriveled and decayed. Imhotep did manage to complete part of the ritual, only to be abruptly interrupted when the Medjai finally caught up with him, and thus, Anck-su-namun died again.

As punishment for their crimes, Imhotep’s priests were mummified alive, while Imhotep himself was sentenced to undergo the worst of all ancient curses, the Hom-Dai. He would be bound to the mortal realm so his spirit could never know peace in the afterlife then he would be placed in a sarcophagus with flesh-eating scarabs, so they could consume him alive then continue feasting on his soul for all of eternity. There was a downside to this curse, however, since if one read from the Book of the Dead, his body would once again merge with his bound soul, making him an immortal undead creature that would bring plague and ruin to Egypt then the rest of the world.

Because of this, the Medjai setup guards who would meticulously watch the ruins of Hamunaptra and stop anyone who threatened to disturb the beast. Eddie’s squad was one of these groups of guards. His had been put together rather recently to help aid in keeping watch as English and American treasure hunters started desecrating the sacred tombs of the pharaohs in a frenzied fervor to discover what was once lost.

Some brought them to their native museums, claiming ownership of them without the Egyptian government’s consent, but most ended up in the hands of private collectors, which led to all sorts of unscrupulous people combing the desert. It was only a matter of time before one of those groups happened upon this ancient resting place, and even if they didn’t wake the beast, moving him overseas could have equally dire consequences. Not only because of security, but if one nation learned of the Hom-Dai ritual in its entirety, then they might foolishly recreate it in their vain attempts to seize power from each other, feeling the curse was a blessing since it granted immortal life.

Eddie was honestly surprised such an important task had fallen to him, as many considered him only half a Medjai due to his father being a white American outside the order. His superiors said that it wasn’t their decision but what the Gods had instructed them to do. It was his destiny to guard Hamunaptrua, what he had been born to do. Though Eddie wasn’t quite sure why the Gods deemed him important, he had no choice but to accept the assignment. Not because he believed he had a destiny beyond himself, but because if he didn’t, it would dishonor his mother’s memory and spit upon her beliefs.

They allowed Eddie to choose his own men for the squad. The first he chose was his best friend, Jeff. Like Eddie, Jeff had been born into the Medjai order, and they’d been stationed in America taking back stolen artifacts from the various profiteers. There was no one Eddie trusted more than him (besides maybe Eddie’s pet messenger hawk, Sweetheart), and would leave him in charge if he ever needed to separate from the group.

Next in the chain of command was Grant and Gareth. They were abandoned in different Egyptian orphanages when they were children and were recruited by the order from there. Eddie met them during his few return trips to the main headquarters, where they worked desk jobs filing away recovered artifacts before they were returned to their rightful home. It was easy to strike up a friendship with them, and they did good work, so Eddie was happy to have them as a part of his team.

The rest of the members were fellow outcasts in the order, one who had been overlooked for one reason or another. Maybe Eddie was too kindhearted and should’ve picked the best the Medjai had to offer, but he remembered what it was like to feel like an outsider, both in the order and in America, so he couldn’t turn his back on them. And while they weren’t as strong as the other squads that were also tasked to guard the beast, Eddie thought they were doing a good enough job keeping an eye on the city.

Even now, they all stared down over the ridge at the woman limping away from the former battlegrounds. She must have sensed their eyes on her since she looked up and gave them a mock salute before she gripped her side and continued on her way. Eddie had to give her one thing as, for whatever reason, she was strong-willed, ready to face the harshness of the desert even in her condition. It honestly was a shame that they couldn’t aid her to reward her for her tenacity, but if he did, then he’d let down the order, and shame his mother in the afterlife.

“Should we kill her?” Jeff asked him.

Eddie shook his head. “No, the desert will do it for us.”

If Eddie knew then what a mistake it was to let the woman go, he probably would’ve still chosen to let her go since he didn’t want innocent blood on his hands, but he would’ve hesitated for at least a moment longer before giving his answer. Maybe that would’ve been enough for someone else to act before him. Eddie didn’t know, however, and felt confident in his decision, completely unaware of the chain of events that would soon take place because of it.

Masterpost ~ Part 2.1 (Coming Soon-ish)

[iamjustrobin]

1, 2, 3, 13, 15, 24, 17

1. The character everyone gets wrong.

Any minor character who doesn't have much to play in canon. Not actually bc they are misinterpreted, but for the fact that the fandom takes advantage of this empty jars to insert their OC's and pretend it's an expansion of that character.

2. A compelling argument of why your fave would never top or bottom.

I'm almost sure at this point a big part of the fandom agrees on pony being 100% a bottom, so let's move onto bottom Dallas💀.

The main reason of why I can't see him in certain ships like tally it's bc Dallas is the type that I can only seen as protective and dominant. Dallas with men who are similar to him it's something that just doesn't work in my mind.

3. Screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on Tumblr.

✨ I don't have a screenshot, but that take of this unpopular person in fandom who was arguing that johnnyboy shouldn't be shipped bc they have an age difference and johnny forgot he was already 14 instead of 13, which means he still saw him as a kid. Godammit, I swear sometimes this fandom just look for excuses to make you feel bad about shipping the characters and their age differences.

✨ HISPANIC SHEPARDS. As an hispanic at first I was all "oh this could be nice" but after seeing the fanon pursuing more stereotypes than actual research I gave up.

Shot out to ROTPL bc they gave me the best portrayal of hispanic-americans in the 50s💖.

✨ And not from Tumblr, but that time I saw someone tagging Marcia on a fic with the white passing argentinian label💀 I'll never overcome that one and this is what I mean about not doing actual research.

13. Worst blorbofication.

Steve maybe? I don't even seen him as a character but as an extension of soda as a character. Whenever I see this takes where everyone claims that he is underappreciated and how we deserved to know more about him I can't take it seriously.

15. That one thing you see in fanart all the time.

Johnny wearing dal's jacket. Please don't, I've made this rant before about how not even if they were canon Johnny would wear the jacket.

Also curly shepard as a goth/punk kid. That portrayal of the character in the TWTTIN adaptation is the only thing the fandom is relying on about him.

17. There should be more of this type of fic/art.

I agree with you in JUST MORE FANART IN GENERAL. It breaks my heart when I found fanartists in this fandom who are just going through an outsiders phase to throw it away in less than a year😭.

And time to add my self indulgence here: FANTASY THEMED FANART/FIC. Do you know how sad it is to be an amateur illustrator who has to take the wheel on this? I love fantasy/fairytales and I would love to find that type of au in the outsiders🥺✨.

24. Topic that brings the most rancid discourse.

"Sylvia/Cherry/Angela did nothing wrong".

Yes, we have a lack of female characters on this story, but nope, that's not a reason to glorify and distort the events in order to victimize these girls to make a point.

I rather hearing takes of people saying they like characters like Angela Shepard with all her flaws and recognize that she did wrong than see distorted fanon to girlbossify her.

[cherienymphe]

The potential is there tbh! Bucky is literally so obsessed with the reader that he destroyed his friendship with Steve over it and Steve has found the love of his life and he's never letting her go so 🤷🏾‍♀️

Yes omg in your drabbles where she wants to leave to heal and find herself and Steve’s like, oh absolutely not. I’ve been patient, I beat Bucky up, I will help you heal. Now put your suitcase down. I nearly passed out. But he has some good points so I would be unpacking my bags immediately. But we would need to move because that house is tarnished. Meanwhile Bucky is plotting how he’s gonna get back in. Do they ever decide to share is the important question

If I ever did extend the universe, there'd be no sharing. Not consensually at least.

It would be one thing if Bucky came to Steve and talked to him about his feelings. The reader loves Steve and Steve loves Bucky so I think if Steve had brought the idea up to her, the reader would've been thrown and confused and maybe even disgusted at first, but it would've been jarring to find out that Bucky doesn't hate her but in fact opposite. Of course, the whole Nat factor would've come into play and the reader is a good friend but after finding out about the reality of Nat and Bucky's relationship + Nat's true feelings regarding her, Bucky and Steve might've used that moment to console her and make the opening for Bucky to slowly warm her up to the idea.

However, bc Bucky didn't do that, and instead violated his wife and made her feel unsafe in her own home + going behind Steve's back to harm someone important to him, there's no possibility of him getting over that

[patchworkgargoyle]

I was tagged by @rhaenyyras, @steves-strapcollection, AND @riality-check for this, I feel very popular! But finally I have filled The Jars.

This was so hard to do with a mouse. Also, kink jars below the cut 👀

Templates can be found here. Thanks @steviesbicrisis for making these, this was fun! Won't tag anyone bc I'm sure everyone's already done this, but if you haven't and wanna consider yourself tagged!!!

I see you lookin' at my kinks. Hi there~

[that-thing-that-feeling]

Tbh the writers made way too many mistakes in S3 that they have not been able to come back from it, and they will not in the next season. S3 destroyed Jopper for me. I found some relationships extremely jarring (wtf was Will and Mike fight i do not even want to think about it), Mike and El, Jonathan and Nancy were written pretty bad. Lucas and Max were also not great... they just used break up drama and cheesy joke moments too much to the point everything kinda became way too comedic relief. S3 is also the season where Dustin is pretty much entirely separated from the Party bc the writers had to include Dustin and Steve duo but in return Dustin's other bonds with his friends suffered for it. Will is pretty much forgotten by everyone (I guess it is highly ironic given that both the writers and the other characters forgot about his existence the moment he was not in definite danger). Jonathan is pretty much neglected, and it only got worsened in S4, and I just wish they'd at least focus on Jonathan's individual character if he's separated from Nancy in S4 but they just did not... many writing flaws in S3 did not get fixed in S4 and it only got worsened in certain aspects.

Also maybe it is just me but S3 overall feels pretty pointless, there is not even a new villain, it is just a rehash of S2 but with the meat flayer instead of the large mindflayer from S2. And i just wonder what was the point of S1 and S2 if all Vecna had to do was stealing El's powers in S3 with a meat flayer bite. Also why she wasn't even a primary target in S1-S2.

s3 was a mess; the duffers basically admitted it was a sandbox for them and filler before turning back to the real supernatural questions (for s4 and s5).

[longlive2023]

so i did not see the plot twist in the last episode

[berrymoos]

everyone talks about little robin+little steve duo but what about little robin and little eddie!?

they would constantly compare who has the best caregiver which would end in tears(usually eddie since he’s smaller) and nance and steve would have to tell them they’re both good:>

always getting into something whether it be the cookie jar robin’s set on opening or the baby powder eddie found in the bathroom(he may or may not came downstairs with white hair that he swore to god was snow) (>▽<)

robin and eddie are always getting told off because robin really enjoys chewing on her sleeves and eddie really likes his hair in his mouth but they still do it anyways because they know they run the house when they’re little o(*≧▽≦)ツ

when they’re napping instead of pillows they use each other and sleep in the most awkward positions(steve once walked in on them sleeping on the floor, all scrambled together with no blankets, just stuffies)

robin taught eddie how to master the puppy dog eyes because steve is weak to them:) now eddie has way too many band tees and a lot of stuffies in his room

i feel like eddie has a weak immune system and when he’s too under the weather to play robin will practically drag nancy to steve’s house so she can be “the bestest nurse ever” and make him feel better（´v｀）

robin plays with eddie’s hair while he rambles on and on about dnd:>

i hc that robin has a shellfish allergy and she came over while he and steve were eating shrimp and he felt bad so he made her a peanut butter sandwich so she wouldn’t feel left out<3

robin and eddie play in the family video break room when she’s having a bad day

thanks for listening *bows*

Oh. My. GOD. BEST THING TO WAKE UP TO THANK YOU SO BERY MUCH (≧∇≦)/

🍦🎸 HDVAHDHSHS AWWWW o(TヘTo) くぅ they're going back & forth comparing difference (& lowkey miniscule things) about their cgs & robin sassily goes "well nancy gets me ice cream aaaaall the time!" — she got her ice cream three times that week, each for a different reason — which gets eddie rlly sad bc :(( he likes ice cream too :(( steve hasn't gotten him ice cream in a while :(( & he just bursts into tears 😭 now nancy has gotta tell him how many times robin actually gets ice cream usually, why she got so much in particular that week, & steve's promising to take him out to get ice cream tomorrow

🍦🎸 HELROWJEEELDO the cookie jar & baby powder incident happened in the same day at the same time. nance & steve leave them to their own devices for one second for WHATEVER reason, & they come back to see cookie crumbs on robin's cheeks ("i thought i hid that!") & baby powder sprinkled all over the bathroom ("there's no way you thought that was snow little bud, we use that powder for you!") and all they do is giggle

🍦🎸 u got that right, they definitely run that house (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و they try giving them little chewlery toys & a few pacis, but they aaalllways gravitate to their sleeves & hair again. sometimes eddie will literally spit his paci out as soon as it hits his mouth & goes right back to chewing his hair. nance & steve lowkey find that super disgusting & if ANYTHING, they prefer him sucking his thumb ... but this is eddie munson we're talking about, ofc he chews his hair instead of sucking his thumb!! 💀

🍦🎸 that's the cutest thing ever what the heeeeck ≧﹏≦ in most cases it starts with eddie laying curled up next to robin while she kinda has him in a gentle yet protective hold ... then about 15 minutes go by, nancy goes to check on them, & they're SPRAWLED out on the bed. blanket is gone, their stuffies are all over them, they're all over each other — like robin has her leg on eddie's tummy, but eddie's hand is covering her face while his stuffed dragon is laying across his forehead & robin's swift heart teddy is clutched in her arms. nancy just shakes her head in that fond parent manner & recloses the door: "they're even a mess in their sleep."

🍦🎸 YEEEESSSS bc robin has the puppy dog eyes down PAT & eddie is rlly curious as to how she makes steve cave in so easily to her getting an extra cookie after lunchtime!! so she pulls him aside, makes sure nobody is listening, & tells him all about her weapon; the puppy dog eyes. after a bit of training, eddie runs to steve for a bit of "practice", as robin called it, & asks for a new metallica t-shirt! steve goes "eddie, you have like 60 of them...?" & BAM. puppy dog eyes in action. steve KNOWS what's happening & he KNOWS who taught him such ways, so he's able to stand up to it ... for about 35 seconds b4 he caves in: "we can go shopping for it later today, buddy..."

🍦🎸 WAAAAAAA ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ eddie hates how easy it is for him to get sick in general, but being sick while he's regressed is simply horrible! but with robin & nancy being there ... eddie will need a water & robin falls off the bed going to get it for him. he'll want his bat stuffie so robin catapults in its direction to retrieve it. not once does steve ever rlly need to move eddie from his arms to get something & nancy doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger bc robin is ON it!! she'll use igor & firestarter (the names of ed's bat stuffie & dragon stuffie) to put on plushie stories for him, she'll cut on the tv to find a nice movie ... eddie doesn't like being sick, but with robin, steve, & nancy? it's a little more bearable (*´˘`*)♡

🍦🎸 (((o(♡´▽`♡)o))) steve helps eddie with the pb&j sandwich (after they washed their hands, ofc ;~]) & even tho robin wasn't small at the moment & rlly wasn't bothered by them eating shrimp w/o her, she couldn't say no to eddie going "don't wan you to be lef out :((", gratefully took the sandwich & ate it .. & holy heck was that sandwich good askkdkajs

🍦🎸 i feel like they have an emergency set of toys back there if either one of them feels down in the dumps & needs a moment to regress. steve always notices when she's upset – whether it's abt something else or it's just been a grueling few hours – & sends her in the break room, even if there are customers still coming & going. eddie swings by (like usual), & he's like "is robin not here today?" so steve also sends him to the back & voila; there she is, playing with their toys. eddie ofc joins her so that way she won't be lonely, & later on when steve gets the chance, he goes in the back to see them giggling while they play ... some kind of game he doesn't understand, & doesn't rlly think he ever will bc the rules are ever changing. really, he's just glad robin is feeling better˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

🍦🎸 ^^ eddie will also swing by family video if he's not feeling too good himself. he'll come by, & robin n steve can see it all over his face, so robin brings him to the break room so she can work on making him feel more like himself :~]

(I AM ALWAYS WILLING TO LISTEN TO THESE MY FRIEND, THANK U FOR GIFTING ME WITH THESE WONDERFUL HCS <33)

[harrysgoldenline]

Can I request a fluffy bucky x tall reader where the reader is shy/introvert and doesn't really get bucky's flirting until bucky kisses her and tells her he wants her to be his.

Crush

You walked alongside Wanda and Natasha as you all walked into the compounds movie room, carrying different blankets and pillows as you all began setting up the room as the boys started gathering the snacks. Making sure each chair and couch each had some of their own blankets and pillows, trying to make the room as comfy as possible before starting the movie.

Once each space was covered, the girls began taking their seats, Wanda sitting in the loveseat and saving a spot for Vision before you and Nat sat on one of the long couches, curing their feet up and each grabbing a blanket, hearing the voices of the boys getting louder the closer they grew closer to the movie room.

Nat smirks at you after hearing the soft sound of a certain super solider and pops up, moving to your other side and sitting on a nearby recliner, “ask Bucky to sit with you” Nat whispers, quickly looking over her shoulder to see if they have entered the room yet.

“What? Are you insane?” You laugh out, face turning red and feeling your heart race at the idea, “no way-“

“Snacks have arrived!” Sam laughed boisterously, Steve and Bucky letting out chuckles behind him as they all carry in a variety of different drinks and snacks.

Wanda pops up, grabbing some snacks from Vision before leading him back to their spot, a smile growing on her face as he pressed a quick kiss on her cheek, both of them cuddling up under the blanket together. Meanwhile, everyone else got up and grabbed some various snacks and drinks before returning to their spots as Peter presses play on the movie.

"Can I sit here?" You hear a voice ask, quickly looking up from your spot on the couch and nodding as you see Bucky standing in front of you, offering you a soft smile, before sitting down next you.

You felt like your body was on fire and it was a struggle to focus on the movie when you were sitting inches apart from him and you wanted nothing more then to just simply move your head slightly to the side, lay your head on his shoulder and take in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

Suddenly, you felt his shoulder nudge yours, causing you to look up at him quickly giving him a confused look and he let out a soft chuckle, "sorry, what?" you asked, cheeks turning slightly pink.

Your face only grew redder as he scooted closer, an arm coming up around the back of the couch and he leaned in closer, "have you seen this before? I know it's only like 10 minutes in but I'm lost." he softly chuckled in your ear, pulling back and meeting your eyes and you found yourself getting lost in them all over again.

You simply shake your head, a soft giggle leaving your lips as you looked back to the screen and then back at him, "I don't really know what's happening either." you replied, giggling slightly.

You hope you kept your facial expression under control when you felt him pull at your shoulder, body coming closer to his as he replied, "glad I'm not the only one that's lost... maybe we can watch it over again sometime?"

Before you could reply, you both were suddenly hit with a pillow, causing your friends around you all to laugh as Sam sent you both a glare, "You two don't know what's happening because your too busy flirting! Pay attention!"

***

For the rest of the movie, Bucky had his arm resting around your shoulder, yours touching him just slightly from when he pulled you a bit closer to him, repeating the movement whenever he commented on something in the movie, making sure to talk quieter to try to avoid another pillow being hurdled your way.

Now, you were all gathered in the living room, sitting in a circle as you were all chatting together, sharing funny stories from the last mission that some of them went on.

"I'll be right back," You spoke to the group, "I'm going to go get another drink, anybody want anything?"

After a couple more requests, Nat decides to join you and you both make your way to the kitchen, grabbing drinks for yourselves and preparing some for you and your friends.

"You and Bucky looked cozy." Nat began, giving you a teasing glare, "I don't see why you don't ask him out, y/n, you clearly are into each other!"

"You're insane." You laugh in reply, shaking your head, "All he did was sit next to me! You and Thor were talking during the movie too but I don't think you two were flirting."

"Well, we also don't look at each other with heart eyes."

"Okay, now I know you're insane." you reply, laughing again and looking at your friend, "there's no way that he could ever like me back, we're just friends, Nat."

"I don't know, you're the only one other than Steve and Sam that he really talks to! Everyone else just gets the grumpy stare!" She explains, crossing her arms over chest as she tries to convince you, "and he gets you coffee all the time and he always wants to sit by you! All you have to do is make a move!"

"I-I don't know..." you shrugged, "it's just, why me? There's no way I could just walk right up to him and do something... I get way too nervous and I just feel like-"

A sudden knock on the wall causes you both to look over at the sound, seeing Bucky standing there, giving Natasha a nod as she looks over at him and then his eyes met yours, giving you a smile, "just wanted to see you if you two needed any help."

"Oh, we were-"

"Perfect!" Natasha interrupts you, looking at the two of you with a smile before grabbing a couple drinks and already heading out the door, "You wanna help y/n put together the last of the snacks? Thank you!"

The next thing you knew, it was just you and Bucky standing there in the kitchen together and he was standing next to you at the counter. You stood together in silence, preparing another snack platter and getting some drinks on a try to take out to everyone.

"y/n?" Bucky suddenly asked and you could still see his hands moving a few more moments before turning towards you and wiping them clean on a nearby towel and throwing it back on the counter, "I was wondering, I remember you talking to me about that new little antique store and I was thinking maybe would go and stop at the coffee shop nearby? Make a day of it?"

"Y-Yeah!" you squeaked, looking over at him quickly before shyly looking back down at your hands, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before looking back at him, grabbing the now prepared snack trays, "is that what you guys were talking about out there?"

Bucky sighs, looking up at the ceiling before back at you, grabbing the tray from your hands and setting it down on the counter, making a bit of a mess as he moves quickly standing in front of you, one arm on each side as he boxes you in.

His eyes met yours intensely, his eyes trying hard to analyze your face as he furrowed his eyebrows as you stood frozen, standing against the counter as he stood in front of you.

"I like you. I really care about you and I want you to be mine, y/n. I want to spend time with you, just you, not with everybody else." He whispered, "I thought that I was making it clear but... if you don't feel the same way I completely understand and I'll give you space, but I just... I want you to be mine."

You stood slightly frozen, eyes widened as you looked into his eyes, "R-Really?" You whisper back, heart racing as you try to convince yourself that this is real, "you do? I-I... I like too, Bucky."

You watched as he had a huge smile grow on her face, head falling forward a bit and he pulled his right hand back, running it through his hair as he looked at you, a huge smile covering his face and he stepped closer to you, his face growing serious again.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?"

You nodded instantly, biting your bottom lip as your chest rose and fall rapidly in anticipation, "yes." you whispered out, "yes, please.

His right hand comes up to your face in an instant his eyes staring into yours before leaning forward, his lips slotting over yours and you instantly melt into his body. Kissing him back, your hands coming up and rest around his shoulders as his left hand meets your waist.

You both stood kissing under the yellow kitchen lights, the kiss soft yet passionate, the both of you dreaming of this moment for so long and yet somehow, it was better than either of you ever dreamed of.

Pulling back, your eyes meet and you both give each other shy smiles and you cover your hands with your face, trying to hide your blush from him and his hands come around your wrists, pulling them away and he looked down at you.

“You're so beautiful..." He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a long kiss on your forehead before pressing another on your lips, "so... how about that date tomorrow?"

———————————————————————-

PLEASE READ THIS!!!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

[bucksangel]

welcome! here, you'll find all of my fics! you're always welcome to send me ideas that I could write about as well as ask questions abt my fics!

sit back, relax, and happy reading ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　tip jar　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

ᰔᩚ = suggestive | ✿ = fluff | ☁︎ = angst | ❧ = smut | ✩ = favorite | 𖤐 = dark

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

Beneath The Milky Twilight - sugarbaby!au (complete) ✿ ☁︎ ❧ ✩

Summary: Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation

General Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (each part will have specific warnings), a lil bit of jealousy, sugarbaby arrangement

word count: 32.9k

♡

run little bunny - softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!reader ✿ ❧ ✩ 𖤐

Summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

General Warnings: 18+, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, smut, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

word count: ongoing

𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜

Just One More ✿

Summary: Despite things needing to get done, it's hard to force yourself out of bed right when you wake up. Especially with a certain super-soldier demanding kisses in return for letting you leave his embrace.

General Warnings: fluff, kissing

Word Count: 828

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

don’t worry, darling ✿

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

word count: 3.3k

♡

Temptation ☁︎ ❧ 𖤐

summary: “I found some land in upstate New York, it’s a quiet, woodsy area, with no neighbors for at least three miles. And when I saw her I knew I needed to go through with it. So I bought the property and I’ve been building the cabin myself, I just need a few more weeks to finish it and then I can bring her there with me.” or - bucky’s trying to get his life back in order, but everything changes when he sees you. He’s going to make you his, whether you like it or not.

warnings: 18+ only, kidnapping, stalking, bucky is weird and obsessed and full on delulu but not violent, implied abuse/threatening abuse (from steve), stockholm syndrome, solo masturbation, panty sniffing, mental manipulation, bucky’s trauma is brought up, steve makes an appearance and is weird and Not Nice At All, brief mention of arson for like one sentence, don’t read if any of these warnings trigger you

word count: 12.5k

♡

The Blossom Tree Above ✿ ☁︎ ❧

Summary: Then, almost in slow motion, Bucky lifts his head, and he’s suddenly closer than he’s ever been. His face is mere inches from yours, he licks his lips and releases your hand from his face to place his on your thigh. Bucky’s face grows closer to yours, both of you breathing heavily as you prepare for what you’ve wanted ever since Bucky came to the tower. And just as you’re gaining the courage to kiss him first, a loud - Bang! Bang! Bang!

Warnings: sm-ut, 18+ only, tad bit of self-deprecation on Bucky's part, mild angst, mention of de-ath, or-al (f and m receiving), no actual penetration tho, so much fluff, sam and sarah are good bros, Bucky deserves happiness and he gets it finally, mild jealousy, pet names (plum, baby, sunshine (sam says this platonically))

Word Count: 8.3k

♡

Only An Illusion ❧

Summary: from the moment bucky laid eyes on you he knew you were the one for him. your sparkling eyes and shy smile coupled with your visible innocence awakens something primal in him, he needs to claim, take, ruin. the only thing standing in the way of that happening is the fact that you’re very much not single. and the lucky man to be with you? bucky’s son - a little shit with no idea how to treat a lady, much less care for a pure thing like yourself. but that’s okay because bucky is going to do anything it takes to make you his. Anything.

General Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mild manipulation, minor angst, fluff (if you could even call it that), bucky is a bit of a creep but it’s fine, fingering, oral (f receiving), allusions to penetrative sex, daddy kink, bucky babying reader, reader is hella naive, hints of little!reader

Word Count: 5.7k

♡

All You Want, the Stars and the Sun ᰔᩚ ☁︎ ✿ ✩

summary: “Lie to me.” The request is simple, softly spoken into your hair while his lips press themselves to the top of your head. There’s a long pause as you gather yourself enough to push through the inevitable, heart turning heavier with each silent second that passes. “Please.” And, fuck. The quiver in his voice does nothing to hide the clear pain in his soul, and a small teardrop slides down his cheek as you whisper softly. “I love you, Bucky.”

general warnings: 18+, angst, angst, and a little more angst, fluffy bits here and there, cheating (reader cheating on omc), unrequited love (not really), some crying and self-loathing, kinda toxic!reader???, allusions to smut, bucky needs a hug, modern!au, fluffy ending bc angsty endings hurt my heart

Word Count: 5.3k

♡

Do Not Fall in Love ✿ ✩

Summary: after becoming roommates with a virtual stranger - that stranger being the notorious bucky barnes - navigating living with him and an onset of feelings you refuse to acknowledge is working pretty well. that is, until, he gets injured far worse than you ever imagined.

warnings: fluff, a lil bit of angst, strangers to roommates to lovers

word count: 7.8k

♡

Awake My Soul ✿❧

Summary: “I’ll never be able to tell or show you how much I am in love with you. There are not enough words in any language I know to describe how grateful I am for you for helping me, and for showing me love and care when I refused to show it to myself. But I need you to know that I’ll spend forever trying to make you feel as happy and loved as you make me.”

Warnings: almost a tiny bit of angst but it's more like bucky being a lil self-deprecating, mostly happiness and love, smut so 18+, crying during sex (it's one of my kinks, sue me), that's all I think?

word count: 5.1k

♡

Give Me a Minute ✿ ☁︎

Summary: Meeting your boyfriends friends is always hard, especially when you're a young woman dating a 100 year old super soldier.

Warnings: everyone is alive and lives in the tower because i said so!au fluff, tension and angst interspersed, insecure bucky, insecure reader, the team (mainly tony, sam, and steve) talking negatively about reader behind her back/to bucky, bucky defending reader, fluffy ending, bucky likes new girl (the show), natasha is a good bro

word count: 3.9k

♡

Fall Leaves ✿ ᰔᩚ

Summary: After years of pining after Bucky, you're finally going on your first date with him. But will the scars from your past prevent you from moving forward?

warnings: none but absolute fluff and love, the reader being insecure, bucky having bde, lil bit of kissing and suggestive ending

word count: 2k

♡

The Spark ✿ ☁︎

Summary: James Barnes, the bane of your existence, the man you swore to stay away from. Though his naturally good looks and charming smile may fool many of the women around you, you refuse to fall into his trap. It gets harder to do with every interaction you have with him, and when Bucky gets taken by Hydra, you're forced to face your feelings or risk losing him forever.

Warnings: lil bit o' angst, fluff, 1940's!au, the reader is a nurse during the war, mentions of captivity, mentions of dead people/war talk, happy ending

Word Count: 6.5k

♡

Until We Meet Again ✿ ☁︎ ✩ ᰔᩚ

Summary: The Blip changed everything and everyone. With Bucky now gone, and a toddler to raise, you find yourself leaning on Steve for support, as he does with you. What happens when, five years later, Bucky returns to find his best friend and best girl raising a kid? His kid.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, passing mentions of death, grieving, a whole lot of angst to start off with, but then a whole lot of fluff, and then a sprinkle of more angst and then some more fluff, angst with a happy ending, mentions of smutty times

Word Count: 7k

♡

Good For You ✿ ✩ ᰔᩚ

Summary: Bucky Barnes, feared assassin and badass on the field, meets you, Natasha’s friend and tattoo artist. Suddenly he’s become shy, unable to merely function from the moment he sees you. But as long as you keep talking to him like that, he’d make a fool of himself over and over just to have your undivided attention.

Warnings: fluffffff out the ass, nervous/shy!bucky, bucky is bisexual because I say so, lil bit of subby!bucky, allusions to smutty times at the end, maybe a bit rushed?? idk please lmk, reader is cocky because Bucky is clearly in love and it’s precious, maybe a part 2 with an actual date and smutty times??

Word Count: 4k

♡

Delicate ❧

Summary: Bucky Barnes, known as the ‘king of New York’, is ruthless and powerful, running everything with an iron fist. He has no weaknesses, other than you. You’re his world, his soulmate, his angel, and he’d do anything and everything to keep you safe. What John Walker, an up-and-coming mobster with irrational tendencies, doesn’t understand, is that you’ll do the same for Bucky.

Warnings: sexy times so 18+ i stg, smut smut smut, kinda femdom!reader and sub!bucky, use of  pet names (good boy, angel), dry-humping, unprotected p in v sex (I STG don’t have sex with someone without being in a committed relationship and have been tested), reader is a total badass, minor/off screen character deaths, misogyny towards reader, john walker makes an appearance but not for long, mild plot but mostly porn

Word Count: 2.6k

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

Milk and Honey - poly alpha!stucky x omega!reader au ✿ ❧

Summary: Though Steve and Bucky are both alpha's, their bond and love for each other transcends designation. However, that doesn't mean they haven't thought of courting an omega, bringing in another person to their relationship. After several failed attempts with other omegas, they seem to meet the perfect one in the form of a shy artist.

or - alphas bucky and steve decide to bring in an omega into their relationship.

General Warnings: fluff out the asssss, reader is a little awkward, there are bits where it's just steve and bucky, 18+, will add more warnings as I upload

Word Count: ongoing

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

You Taste Like Suburbia - poly mafia!stucky x reader 𖤐 ❧

Summary: Your lousy boyfriend John Walker owes quite a bit of money to some pretty shady people. And since he doesn’t have the means to pay, he’s brought you along to a negotiation to meet them - and hopefully entice them into accepting a different form of payment.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con kind of, a tiny bit of stalking/dark behavior (it’s only hinted at), voyeurism i guess?, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), threesome, poly relationship, petnames (princess, kitten, beautiful), daddy kink, sir kink, unprotected p in v, a little bit of misogyny (not from stucky), not john walker friendly, mentioned verbal abuse, mention of murder (you have to squint and turn your head 90 degrees)

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

Come Morning Light ✿ ☁︎

Summary: Bucky is still healing, and Steve, ever the good husband, will be there to support him every step of the way.

Warnings: a bit of angst, but happy/hopeful ending, a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, bucky is sad but steve is here to make it better, mentions of depression, anxiety, and ptsd, fluffy bits towards the end

Word Count: 2.1k

[dameronology]

knowing me, knowing you {steve rogers}

summary: breaking up is never easy - but it's the best thing you can do (yes, it's based on the song by abba and no, i have no regrets)

warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing

i don't even know what possessed me to write this but? i've been neck deep in angst rn and sometimes, it's nice to explore a healthy break up bc shit happens. enjoy!!

- jazz xx

In the middle of Brooklyn, about twenty minutes away from the Bridge, there was an unassuming townhouse. It stood between several other identical brownstones, with a messy garden and unkempt tangles of bushes - you nor Steve never had the time to tend to do it, with your jobs and your lives pulling you in a thousand different directions. The inside, though? That was what had mattered. It was filled with years of memories - photos of you on the fridge, ticket stubs from your trips to the movies, clutter from so many Christmases and birthdays - that were all contained between the four walls. Home had been important to Steve, given how often he'd moved around. And it couldn't have been that home without you.

Now you were stood at the foot of the front garden, a pile of collapsed boxes resting in your arms. The last time you'd been here was when you and Steve had tried to talk it out -- it had ended with the door slamming behind you. The conversation had ended badly, but your relationship had ended even worse. And even though you had both tried to hard to blame one another, finding fault had been hard. You'd just...fallen out of love. It wasn't something either of you could help, nor was it something you could force. Your frustration and anger, and the shouting and fights, had never been at Steve, but rather the situation. He had always said that finding you, and simultaneously loving you, had come out of nowhere; it was something he had never sought out. You were just there one day, and it changed everything.

Sighing to yourself, you headed up the path and towards the front door. You'd been dreading this day for months -- moving out years worth of stuff, and trying through bleary eyes not to look at the photos on the wall or the millions of little reminders that your relationship had left behind in its wake. There was a dent in the hallway, from your first Thanksgiving in the house when Steve had gotten a little too drunk, and the massive crack in the kitchen floor from where you'd managed to drop the kettle. It was littered with memories and callbacks and evocations. The house was haunted with the ghosts of what was, and what could have been.

You could at least take comfort in the fact that you'd tried - several times, actually. There had been couples counselling and forced, romantic getaways in a last-ditch attempt to trigger something, anything, to get back your dying spark. It made it better and worst - better, because you knew that you'd done everything in your power to salvage things, but worst, because it had all been a waste. A sign that your relationship had gotten so bad that it had crossed the point of no return.

Sometimes, breaking up was the best thing to do. It hurt now, but it hurt much less in the long term compared to what could have been if you'd stayed together.

Placing the boxes by the door, you shut it behind you and quietly crept inside. There had been no communication with Steve other than a few horribly formal emails - after all, you did still work together - detailing your plans to sort the house out. It had been sitting derelict for months, your former home collecting dust. He'd sought refuge at Bucky's loft across the River, whilst you'd been hiding out in Natasha's spare room.

It felt odd being back; nostalgic and painful all at once. So much had happened in these four walls - good and bad, memorable and mundane - and you were feeling it all at once. It was seeping in through the cracks of your mind, the same way the tension had slipped through the cracks in the old walls and questionable foundations. It didn't matter that the place had been falling apart, because it had been so loved.

"I...I didn't realise you were coming today."

You froze at the sound of Steve's voice. He was stood in the kitchen, navy bomber jacket slung over one shoulder and a box of his belongings in his free hand. Hadn't you said that you coming today? Tomorrow was meant to be his moving day.

"Yeah," you swallowed. "I said in the email."

"Sorry, I must have misread it." He sheepishly admitted. "I was just gonna get my stuff and go."

"Me too," you nodded. "Figured it might take a while though."

"You do own a lot of crap," Steve gently smiled. "I just put the kettle on. Do you want a coffee?"

"Uh," your eyes fell to the floor, "I should probably just-"

"- it's just a coffee." Steve cut you off.

"Yeah, okay then."

You awkwardly took a seat at the breakfast bar beside him. God, was this really what it had come to? This time last year, you would have just been waking up and strolling into the kitchen, greeting your super soldier with a kiss as he prepared breakfast. You had a routine - you had a life. But that was exactly it, wasn't it? Life. You and Steve of all people knew how fucking unexpected things could be; how many curveballs and challenges could be thrown your way. In an odd way, your break-up had been even less expected than Ultron and Loki and HYDRA.

"It'll have to be black coffee," Steve said. "We only have coffee out the jar. No-one's been here for months."

"I know," you nodded. "I did used to live here, remember?"

"I think I'm having a hard time not remembering, to be honest," He said. "Being here is harder than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I get that." You took the mug out his hands, giving him a small nod. "All this feels a lot scarier than aliens and robots."

"Ah, well," Steve tried to brush it off. "I never noticed how badly we beat up the place."

"Do you mean the dent in the hallway, or the crack in the floor?" You found yourself smiling.

"I meant the hair dye stains in the bathroom and the smashed window in the basement," he shot back.

"That was both of us. You wanted to play football inside, remember?"

"Only because you had got me drunk," he countered. "I don't think we'll get our deposit back."

"Y'think?" You quirked an eyebrow.

An odd silence fell over you. It was the first time in months that you were talking - and now that the pressure of being in a relationship was suddenly off your shoulders, some of the tension had faded away. When you took a step back and brushed aside the ashes of what had once been, there was still...something. Not love, and not a relationship, but the same common ground and interests that had brought you together in the first place. It was worth holding onto.

"Do you remember that time that your parents came to visit and you forgot to tell me?" Steve recalled with a soft smile, "and your dad just strolled in on me in the shower."

"It's not any worst than the time you gave Bucky a spare key and he broke in in the middle of the night to get milk for his fucking coffee," you chuckled.

"It was a good few years."

"It was," your eyes fell down to the dark bubbles of the coffee in front of you. "Pride and all that aside, I'm sorry it ended how it did."

"Hey, it's okay," Steve gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, "it's no-one's fault. These things happen."

"I know," you said, "I just...we had a good thing going, didn't we?"

"We did, but we also did everything we could to try and fix things." He replied.

"And we couldn't," you recalled. "I know that breaking up was the easy thing-"

"- it wasn't," Steve cut you off. "But it was the right thing, wasn't it? Because we made each other miserable."

"As partners, yeah," you nodded, "but what about friends?"

Your eyes met again, and he smiled. "Yeah. I think we can manage that."

Admitting defeat was hard, but if it was what you needed to do in order to stay in each other's lives? It was the best you could do.

tags: @agent-catfish-kenobi

[pascalpanic]

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

-

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

-

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

[kyber-crystal]

here again || s.r

words: ~2k

summary: you & steve reunite in wakanda after two long years apart

warning: literally none, just fluff. also bad writing bc this is an old ass oneshot

a/n: so uh,,,this was apparently the result of me falling in love with nomad steve rogers all over again. IW was actually the first avengers film i saw and let me just say, hot damn...also i’m horrible w/titles i’m so sorry. if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be the first to know when i publish something new loml!

tags: to @wxstedhexrt​ ! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET AND SUPPORTIVE AND ALWAYS TAGGING ME IN STUFF ILY

Time flies, people told you. Make the most of every moment. Take nothing for granted. Appreciate those you have around you while they’re still here, because you never know when they’ll leave you. 

What they didn’t mention was what happened between those long hours, the immense pain that came along with missing someone you loved and held near and dear to your heart. The countless sleepless nights awake, wondering if they’d be alright, wondering if they were safe and not in danger. The countless nights hoping and praying they’d come back to you and crying yourself to sleep.

They didn’t tell you that sometimes, you never knew what you were missing until it was gone. 

In your case, your ‘what’ was Steve Rogers. 

Initially, you’d started off on Tony’s side. Not because you agreed with his argument - that wasn’t the case at all - but because you couldn’t stand the idea of turning your back against the man that had sacrificed so much for your sake. But as soon as you saw Steve on the other side of the battlefield, eyes soft and pleading, you couldn’t take it anymore. You caved.  

Being in love made people do strange things, you thought.

You were lucky enough to have found refuge in Wakanda. T’Challa was more than happy to let you stay, knowing you had nowhere else to go and wanting to make sure you were looked after at all times. The others - Sam and the rest of Team Cap, had been sent to the Raft - they weren’t as lucky.

You felt awful. Here you were, living out a peaceful life (well, as peaceful of a fugitive’s life could be), while the rest of your teammates were trapped within the iron fists of the government.

Two years passed, and you still hadn’t gotten a message, any sort of sign, from any of them. You began losing hope. Maybe they weren’t coming back...

“Miss Y/N?” a calm voice suddenly jarred you from your thoughts. 

You turned around to see T’Challa standing there with his hands behind his back. “How many times have i told you to just address me as Y/N?”

“My apologies, Y/N,” he nodded curtly, correcting himself. “Are you alright?”

“Just...thinking,” you hummed. 

“It seems as if you have a lot on your mind,” he guessed. “Is there something that’s bothering you?”

“No, no...”

“Miss- Y/N, you’ve been here for two years, and you think by now, I wouldn’t know when something’s up?”  The Wakandan king raised an eyebrow. 

“T’challa-���

“Hopefully, some good news will lift your spirits?” he offered. “I have received a call, they’re on their way.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“Captain Rogers and the others are due to arrive soon. War is coming, and we need to prepare.”

You froze. “D..did I just hear you correctly?”

“Indeed. Okoye will meet you outside your chambers in half an hour, so take some time to wash up and rest, will you? You seem exhausted.”

“You know me so well,” you yawned and stretched your arms in the air. “See you in a bit.”

After you finished washing up and drying your hair, you changed into a comfortable cable-knit sweater and dark jeans before opening the door to see Okoye and Shuri standing there. “Hi.”

Shuri came forward and squeezed you into a tight hug. “Hey!”

You chuckled lightly and ruffled her hair. “So, what’re we doing?”

“T’Challa’s already there, we’re going to see Barnes,” she explained.

“Bucky?” 

“The one and only.”

Okoye offered you one of her rare smiles. You’d formed an unexpected close friendship with the fierce warrior during your time here - she made an excellent sparring partner, and even taught you how to work her weapons.

You headed outside to meet T’Challa, and made your way towards the fields together. 

...

“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0,” Steve stated as he walked up to the pilot’s seat. Despite the calm tone of voice he had, everyone could tell he was on the verge of losing it.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap,” Sam said, “or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

“Nervous, Rogers?” Natasha nudged him gently in the side. 

“No.” But the look in his eyes gave it all away.

“It’s been a wild two years, huh,” she exhaled as she stared out ahead, the Quinjet passing through a camouflage forcefield into the Golden City’s valley, landing at the airfield outside the palace.

“Yeah...it has.”

“So when are you gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re hopelessly in love with her.”

“Natasha-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, I know you are,” she gave the super-soldier an accusatory look. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have woken up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare that she died, and it was only after talking with Sam for an hour that you fell back asleep. Which has happened multiple times before.”

“But, Natasha-”

“Come on..why can’t you just admit it? Are you afraid she’s gonna reject you? Because that should be the least of your worries. She’s head over heels for you.”

“What makes you think that?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. 

“Intuition. And the way she looked at you.”

“When you said we were going to open Wakanda to the rest of the world...this is not what I imagined,” Okoye commented as she and T’Challa walked side-by-side.

“And what did you imagine?”

“The Olympics. Maybe even a Starbucks.”

The Quinjet’s back gate dropped open and its occupants disembarked. Steve and Natasha stepped down the ramp first, followed by Bruce and Rhodey, with Vision and Wanda in the back.

“Should we bow?” Bruce whispered into Rhodey’s ear.

“Yeah,” he replied, dead serious. “He’s a king.”

“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve said as he and T’Challa shook hands. 

Bruce awkwardly bowed. Rhodey pretended to look shocked, but there was a hint of an smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa motioned with his hand. Bruce shot Rhodey a look, and was just answered with an amused grin. “So how big of an assault can we expect?”

“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault,” Bruce replied as they began walking back into the administrative building.

“How we looking?” Natasha questioned.

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“A semi-stable, 100-year-old man,” Bucky finished with a wide grin as he walked towards his best friend. The two men exchanged a tight hug. 

“How you been, Buck?”

“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “But I think I’ve been holding up better than she has.”

“Who?”

“Everyone’s favorite retired Olympian, ex-nurse, and fugitive electrokinetic hero.”

“What-”

Before he had the chance to answer, your familiar figure stepped out from the shadows.

“Y/N?”

“Steve?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat and froze on the spot. He still had that same lean, muscular figure that any girl would swoon over, but his hair had grown out from years on the run and a rugged beard now covered his sharp jaw. His suit was darkened from dirt and grime and the star in its centre was torn out. But he was still absolutely breathtaking - bright blue eyes shining through the coverage. 

His expression immediately softened upon seeing you. After many nights praying to see your face again his vision had finally become reality - and he had to keep pinching the inside of his palm to remind himself that this in fact, wasn’t a dream at all. He wasn’t dreaming. You were real, and you were standing just a couple yards away. 

You felt your chest ache at the sight of him - it had been two years since you heard him speak. And it didn’t seem to matter how long you were apart for, because his voice would always make you weak at the knees. You hated him for making you react the way you did - or was it yourself that your hatred was directed at more?

But then all feelings of resentment and frustration starting to bubble up to the surface suddenly evaporated. You snapped out of your temporary trance and broke into a sprint, running as fast as your legs would carry you and launching yourself towards him, flinging your arms around his neck. “Steve-”

You slumped against him and broke down, your body trembling from your sobs. He pulled you closer against him and circled his arms around your waist. You didn’t know whether you were crying out of frustration or relief - but the feeling that was brought upon you by being held by him was unlike any other - you’d never get tired of it. You felt so safe, so protected in his tight embrace that you didn’t want to think about anything else. You didn’t want to think about the inevitable war on your way, you didn’t want to think about the past nor the  future, you just wanted to live in the moment - with your head on his chest, his chin on top of your head. That was it.

Steve felt his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. You were crying. You never cried. You never cried and now you were breaking down - because of him.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hair. “God, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I left you-”

“It’s okay-” you choked out, “I’m just glad you’re alive-”

You lifted your chin up slightly and he rested his forehead against yours, so close that there were only a few millimeters that kept your lips from touching. That’s when you realized he, too, was crying - tears streaming down his face and you swear there’s literally nothing that could make him look any less handsome. You felt your heart stop momentarily. A strange feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. If it weren’t for his steady gaze, you’re almost 100% sure you would’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief, inhaling the fresh scent of roses in your hair. It’s been two years since he was last able to hold you like this - and two years later, he still believes you fit perfectly together and that you were made to be held by him, and him alone. 

Then you were overcome with a sudden surge of confidence and quickly cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his, closing the gap. 

It was like fireworks were shooting through your veins as he deepened the kiss and pulled you closer - if that was even possible, given that you were practically pressed against one another - your heart racing at what felt like a million miles per hour at the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his hand between your shoulder blades and on the small of your back. He tasted like everything between euphoria and heartbreak, salty tears and berries and warm coffee, and his touch was electrifying.

You probably could’ve gone on like that for hours on end. It was only when you heard someone cough awkwardly that you broke apart, eyes still glassy with tears, your faces flushed, and lips swollen.

“Are you and lover boy gonna keep up the baby-making or are you gonna say hi to the rest of us?” Sam interjected. “Just a friendly reminder that you aren’t the only two people here.”

“You’re gross,” you muttered as Steve released you to go greet the others. “Hey, Sam. It’s been a while, huh.”

“Long time no see,” he agreed.

“Well, well, well, I see you’ve finally worked up the courage to make a move, both of you,” Natasha smirked as she brought you in for a quick hug. “I’m proud of you both.”

“Nat! I missed you.”

“I missed you too. You know, Cap wouldn’t stop rambling about you the entire way here-”

“Shut up, Nat,” Steve cut her off. “I wasn’t rambling.”

“Not rambling my ass,” Bucky muttered, “you were talking my ear off that day we took the Quinjet. Wouldn’t stop worrying about her when she insisted she’d be okay.”

“If there was an Olympic sport of being passionately in love with your best friend and mutually pining over one another for years before finally breaking the through-the-roof tension, I assure you you’d win, Captain,” Shuri grinned mischievously.

“Oh, my God.”

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

the closest i’ve been to a bar was at ballet class

summary: just some smut building up to 🎟🩰(that’s a ticket and ballet slippers in case you aren’t reading this on mobile)

pairings: reader x natasha romanoff, reader x steve rogers, reader x carol danvers, reader x ...someone 👀

word count: a little under 12,000

warnings: everything. as usual, all kinds of sex in here. i can’t remember all of it. some is pretty rough so avoid if that is not your thing.

a/n: so...i may have added a fourth and bc i’m a jerk, i’m not yet tagging who... but i’ve been thirsting for this character so hard lately and idk why! i’m done tho, i swear! no more. none.

a/n2: so, obviously there is no show here and they have yet to find out about each other but i started writing that but this all happened first and it would have been like a billion words. so part 3 will be coming!

a/n3: part 1

Your ballet instructor was Natasha’s number one enemy. It had started almost instantly. As with her experiences in ballet, she felt that your instructor was someone who simply needed to be watched. She said ballet instructors were hardly ever completely honest, they always had ulterior motives.

You highly doubted your instructor—a 38-year-old woman with an amazing husband and three adorable children—was up to no good. But you couldn’t take another lecture!

Natasha liked to remind you that she had been at this for a long time. Sure, she was paranoid, sometimes. But other times, she was very much correct and that was enough for her. She just wished you would put your guard up sometimes.

So she claimed, anyway. And she was convincing, but at the end of the day, she was glad you weren’t jaded and cynical. It meant she got to take care of you. It meant that she got to protect you in all the ways she knew how—threats, murder maybe.

She was waiting for you at your apartment around noon after practice was over. Her eyes sought out any signs of stress. You knew you looked tired—a big show was coming up, that same show you knew was going to conclude this whole sneaking around thing you had going on. You also knew there was a huge bruise on your shin and arm that she would be furious about when she undressed you.

"Hungry?" she inquired. No 'hello', no 'I missed you', but Natasha liked to save that for when you were falling asleep. She really thought you wouldn't remember how sappy she'd gotten in the morning. You let her pretend because the alternative was no sappiness.

"Starving. Are we going somewhere?"

"Let’s stay in, I’ll make something."

You opened your apartment for her and she waltzed right in. She directed you to change as she headed for the kitchen.

You didn’t have the energy to try to hide the bruises. It was better to get it out of the way. Besides, were you going to say no when she wanted to fuck you?

You chose a tiny bra top and a pair of tiny shorts. Maybe your ass would distract her.

She was at the counter, waiting to see what you came out in. A box of pasta in front of her, a few jars and a saucepan off to her side. It wasn’t anything too crazy but you were okay with that, and at least she wouldn’t get to tease you in that restaurant she loved taking you to.

Concept: picture that scene from a movie where the rich, white man has his favorite restaurant that he takes his billions of too-young, way-out-of-his-league dates to and the staff is used to not mentioning any of the terrible things they see to his wife. Now, take that vision and place it on Natasha. Subtract all the dates and the wife and that Natasha was out of your league, and that had you sitting at her usual table of her favorite overpriced, noisy, terribly lit restaurant at least once a week. At least you were starting to make friends with all of the hostesses and most of the servers. But they weren't naive, they knew when Natasha was, in a sense, in a mood, and they knew when to be succinct but still helpful. That was what made part of The Incident possible—

"What is that bruise?" she demanded, startling you out of your thoughts.

You contemplated the innocent act for a moment, but you'd rather be dismissive. It was just quicker. "Nat, I'm fine—"

"Did you get that in class?"

"No."

"Where, then?"

You sighed. "When I was leaving class. I fell walking down the stairs."

"Because you’re so tired!"

"I am not that tired," you protested.

"Y/N—"

You sauntered over to her, sliding in between her and the counter. "I guess I am a little tired but only because I’ve had some trouble falling asleep lately."

She already knew where you were going, but she would never refuse one of your challenges. You weren’t in charge, she was, and you wouldn’t know that if she was too soft with you. She sighed, "why is that?"

"Because you haven’t fucked me in so long."

She rolled her eyes.

"When you tire me out, I sleep like a baby. Without you...I have to tire myself out and that can take forever."

She sighed, knowing she was not going to get you on a different path. "Forever, huh?"

You nodded. "I mean...I can think about you when I do it. Your mouth, your fingers... But it’s not the same."

"And how often, exactly, do you think about me?"

It was the closest she was ever going to get to asking where she stood with you. She knew there were others but she wanted to hear that she was special compared to the rest. She was, so special you couldn’t put it into words. But that didn't mean Steve and Carol weren't special in their way as well. You figured they were going to have a hard time wrapping their mind around that when they found out about this. A competition? Sure, they could understand that.

"Very often," you promised. "I missed you."

You craved them exactly as you had gotten used to having them in your life. The mornings had you longing to be with Natasha, staying in bed late while you thought about how she wasn’t going to be walking you to class or waiting for you after. Nights were reserved for Steve when you realized how empty your bed felt and wanted to have one of your under-the-covers conversations with him—a trend started in the winters when he would unintentionally wake you up because he was trying to slip out of bed, it was your way of keeping him there for just a little longer. Then there were weekends, random mid-days, and every Thursday night that Carol had you set aside just for her so she could take you to Maria's for dinner.

Natasha's hands settled on your hips. "I missed you, too. But that doesn’t mean I don't want to hit your damn teacher."

"Why waste time?"

"I’m nearly retired," she countered. "I have the time."

"No, you really don’t." You slowly removed your shirt and then shimmied out of your shorts before kicking them away. "All of your time needs to be spent on me, not worrying about my teacher."

Natasha always looked at you like she’d never seen anything quite so beautiful regardless of how little time elapsed from the last, but there was something different this time. For the first time since she’d met you, your skin was an unpainted canvas. Steve and Carol had been gone as well and that meant there were no bruises anywhere because there was no one else.

Natasha liked marking you up because Steve did—not that she knew that, but it was a possessive outlet for them both. Steve’s marks were always bigger, bigger fingers, bigger love bites, she’d known instantly that he was a man—random, inconsistent. Hers were smaller, healed quicker, but no doubt sent the message that you were fucking a woman. Something she wanted to be known to whoever else was sharing your bed.

She lifted you onto the counter, leaving your hips hanging over the edge as she dropped to her knees. Immediately, her mouth was set to your inner thigh where she nipped at your skin and kissed after. She never once took her eyes off you as she switched legs..

You wouldn’t beg, even after the eighth time she made that switch. You knew she had her plans and not even you could change them. That didn’t mean you weren’t dripping and squirming, cursing her for being so thorough, however.

She shoved your legs apart wide as she stood, dipping down to run her tongue through you slowly, just once.

You shuddered when she caught your clit. "Natasha—"

"Hush." She eyed your pussy, then the rest of you. "You are delicious, baby. I can’t believe I had to go so long without tasting you." She chose your hip bones to mark up next but finally, slid two fingers inside you. She didn’t move them, she just wanted to fill you up a little.

You clenched around them several intentional times and she didn’t bat an eye. She was trying to drive you crazy; she hadn’t said it but the second you tried to take, if you rolled your hips, if you grabbed her arm and attempted to rush her, she would make you wait longer.

She trailed up to your breasts, small kisses scattered without pattern before she started to bite and suck until your skin was numbly tingling. You knew her game was over when she pressed her lips to yours.

You wasted no time, opening your mouth for her tongue and moaning out of the sheerest need. There was just something about Natasha’s lips that could always get you weak. They were beautiful to look at but they felt even better gliding across your skin, kissing, sucking.

She was the one who pulled away, turning down to look at her fingers still inside you. "You are soaking my hand."

Now you grabbed her forearm, pulling her fingers in deeper. "Fuck me, please."

She acted as if she was thinking about it, arched her eyebrow and curled her fingers once, twice, and then yanked them away from you.

Your eyes widened up at her. What the hell?

"Go sit at the table while I finish making the pasta."

Your mouth dropped a little. "Um...?"

"Hurry up," she ordered.

She was serious, dead serious. You slid off the counter, leaning down to reach for your clothes.

"I didn’t tell you to get dressed," she pointed out. With her hands on your arms, she stood you back up and turned you around. You went to move away but she grabbed your ass and leaned down to kiss your cheek, then gently urged you forward. "Sit down, stop pouting. Be a good girl or else I won’t be fucking you, understood?"

No, hell no, not understood. At all! But you didn’t say any of that as you moved for the table. No, no, no way in hell.

Steve teased, even Carol had her tendencies to make you wait, but Natasha was different. After that first time in the studio, she had never again made you wait for something that you wanted. She gave and gave until you shamelessly flaunted how spoiled you were to anyone who would listen—mostly the ballerinas from class. It was that Natasha didn’t need to be as in control as them, it was that it didn’t need to be some power struggle.

Maybe she was trying something different, but that meant that you could do that, too. Instead of sitting in a chair like a boring mouse, you turned to her and sat on the table instead.

She was pouring the box of pasta in the pot, but she turned up to arch an eyebrow at you.

You lifted one leg, then the other, setting the arches of your feet on the edge of the table. You were obscenely spread for her and she acted as if that wasn’t unnatural.

You brought your hand down to your pussy, two fingers slowly tracing circles around your clit. You watched her watching you the entire time, there was never a break in her resolve. But you were too far now to just quit, besides that was more than likely was her feigned indifference was trying for.

She didn’t stop making the pasta either, but that was how you knew you were winning. She was trying to speed dinner along because she was going to remind you that she was in charge.

It was so cute that they believed that. You worried that she may not let you finish that night, so even if you wanted to give her that little bit of obedience you could manage, you weren't convinced it was in your best interest.

Your hand began to move frantically as you cried out her name because you were just mean like that. Your eyes closed and your head fell back as you took in two of your fingers. Your hips rose to grind against the heel of your palm, around that time you were almost certain you’d heard something clatter in the kitchen.

Your finish was little more than a show, an end you’d drawn yourself to many times in their absence but one that you played up. It felt as good as it could have but you needed them, nothing else could suffice. That didn't mean you weren't acting like it was the best orgasm you'd ever had.

You came down quickly and did so without a word or even another glance at her. You climbed off the table, sat in a chair, and looked at her once more.

She looked down at the counter in front of her and shook her head. Yep, you were in major trouble, but you deemed it well worth it.

After an uneventful meal, she took you to the bedroom where she edged you ruthlessly. She was trying to get you to apologize for misbehaving, but you refused. Well, until she told you that she wasn't going to give you the presents she brought you back from Paris. (Later, you opened a new pair of thigh-high boots and a diamond choker with a dangling charm of cursive letters spelling out angel.)

And finally, when you gave in and apologized, she herself was worked up beyond comprehension and set your cunt over her face so she could eat you out until you were crying and delirious. Thankfully, she didn’t stop even though you begged her to, not until she was satisfied.

That was the first night Natasha stayed over. She kept her arms wrapped around your bare torso to keep you pinned to her as tightly as possible. You felt her running her hands through your hair until you fell asleep, enjoying the sound of her breathing in the quiet room.

In the morning, you woke first. You were able to watch her sleep for a while, surprised by how peaceful she looked. And you were caught off by how good she looked in your bed, her red hair fanned out over your pink pillowcases, the sunlight filtering through the blinds and layering her in gold light. 

Her arms were slack around you, her right falling away as you sat up. You situated yourself on her side, crossing your top leg over her hip. You took her hand in yours, guiding two of her fingers to your already wet pussy.

You teased your clit for several minutes, careful not to wake her just yet. When you were ready, you slid down on two of her long fingers. Still, she was not woken by you.

You rolled your hips desperately, moaning every time your clit swept against her palm. You felt her fingers curl on their own and moaned louder, an attempt to get her conscious.

When her eyes shot open, they focused on you instantly. You continued to fuck yourself on her fingers, setting your head on the pillow next to hers and staring in her eyes.

"Fuck," she whispered. Then she was up and urging you onto your back. She spread your legs wide and slotted herself between them. She started slow, hands groping your breasts as she dragged her pussy against yours. 

She was deliciously slick, you could feel her cunt dripping onto yours. Wet sounds filled the room, along with the small, desperate noises that spilled from your open mouth.

When she knew she was close, she used your thigh as leverage, moving quicker. It was a breath-taking scene when Natasha got lost in pleasure. She shut her eyes, tilted her head back and her red curls lined her back, her breasts bounced hard because that was how she was fucking you. She didn’t stop until you were both screaming each other's name and coming.

She collapsed on top of you, mouth lazily seeking out yours. "That’s the best way I’ve ever been woken up."

You smiled.

"Turn over, let me see your gorgeous ass."

You waited until she stepped off the bed to roll over, eagerly sticking your ass out for her. She had never asked you to do this so you were excited to see where she would take it.

You heard her get back on the bed and then felt her hands gripping your ass hard.

"You have such a beautiful ass."

You smirked, glancing back at her.

She set her body flat against your back and you titled your head just so you could kiss her. She began grinding her cunt against your ass, nipping at your lips as she moaned. One of her hands slithered down between your pussy and the mattress, her fingers circling your sensitive flesh skillfully.

Her soaking pussy brushed over your ass desperately, you could feel her soaking you all the way down the back of your thigh. She got herself off on your skin, never once easing up on your clit even though you’d finished and were terribly oversensitive to her touch. Instead, once again, she stopped only when she wanted to.

And if you thought that would be the end, you didn’t know her very well. She sat up and brought you with her. She took your hips in her hands and situated you over one of her thighs, her front pressed to your back once again. "Come on my thigh, baby, don’t stop until I tell you to."

You leaned over, using your elbows to keep your balance. You rode her thigh hard, making sure to give her quite the show of your ass. When you were reaching your end, you grabbed one of her hands and set it over your ass. She took the cue immediately, grabbing you, digging her fingers in.

When you finished, she shoved you flat onto the mattress. You were only half aware of what she was doing behind you, still floating from your orgasm. You snapped right out of that when you felt her lips against your ass. She kissed you several times before you felt her tongue against your hole.

You startled, hands fisting in the sheets. You were definitely surprised, you guys had never even approached this topic. But just as soon as you had felt her, she was gone. She turned you back over, kissed up your body, stopping only to worship your breasts. When she reached your mouth, she gave you an out-of-place chaste kiss and sat up. "Seriously, we need to get out of bed or I'm never going to stop fucking you."

When Carol opened her apartment door for you, things quickly changed. She gripped your arm and walked you to the couch where she forcefully sat you down. One thing was clear: she was in no mood to hear you speak.

"Stay." She headed to the kitchen where you heard cupboards being opened and slammed shut, the fridge a few times. Mostly, she was just walking around.

Perhaps you should have been scared, but you were just wet. So fucking wet.

She came back with a beer, glanced at you, then began pacing. "You’re..." she trailed off and shook her head before taking a long drink from the bottle in her hand. "I mean, I can’t even..."

It was definitely a mistake to laugh.

Her eyes widened and she turned to you, a clear warning, but one that you would not heed. "Just try to make me understand," she finally settled on. "What possessed you?"

"Well, you were gone for quite a while."

"So, you missed me?"

"Of course."

"So, you decide to be a brat?"

Was that supposed to make you regret acting out? It was a somewhat humiliating thing for her to call you but you didn’t dislike it. "Well, you weren’t paying enough attention to me."

Again, that sharp look that you were sure was supposed to make you backtrack. "I only pay attention to good girls, girls who behave."

You hummed, standing. "I suppose I should go home, then."

"Sit down," she growled.

Instead, you tossed your purse on the couch and slowly removed your jacket. Nat had left you covered in marks but she was secure enough in her place with you that she didn’t need to do so in a way that would inconvenience you. She understood you were a ballerina so she left your neck, shoulders, and chest mostly untouched. Your breasts, stomach, and thighs were another story, but you were still in a tiny ass skirt that allowed Carol to finger you in the car before you’d arrived at another little gathering Maria was having—who had more parties, her or Tony Stark? She was giving him a run for his money.

Which was where you’d started acting out. Carol had picked you up around noon and you were as sweet as could be. But around 3, you were suddenly hit with the realization that you wanted to be fucking her more than anything else. It started with a text about how you had taken off your underwear. She was having none of it, she told you this was not happening. You let her know that the scrap of lace was in her purse.

You sent a picture 30 minutes later. She warned you to stop. You sent a video showing her just how wet you were for her, then told her all the things you wanted her to do to you. All the things you had missed while she was away.

In total, you sent her 27 texts, 2 videos, and 7 pictures. You’d received 4 responses, but the final one was completely out of place. Show me your ass. You obliged but then nothing. She said nothing, she requested nothing further.

Did you feel as though you'd gone too far? Not exactly. Carol was definitely into the most public shit, making possible for the second part of The Incident. You still blushed thinking about that day.

She rolled her eyes at your display of disobedience, bringing the bottle to her lips once more. "Strip."

You didn’t need to be told twice. First, it was the shirt, and you paid no mind at all to what Natasha had left you with, but you noticed Carol's lingering gaze. Next, you pushed your skirt down and stepped out of her pumps you’d borrowed. You loved wearing heels when you were out with Carol, she was taller than you without and sometimes it brought you to her level or made you just a tad taller.

She made her way closer to you, setting her bottle on the coffee table off to her side. Abruptly, she grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you closer to her. "If you wanted me to get rough with, princess, all you had to do was ask."

You didn’t have time to respond before she was kissing you, greedy and demanding. But just as you reached up to touch her face, she yanked back and turned you around with her hands on your shoulders. She grabbed your hair once more and forced you down toward the table.

You were on your knees, bent over the edge, your breasts flat against the freezing glass. Your cheek was pressed so hard against the solid surface you almost couldn’t open your mouth to speak. "Carol—"

"Silence."

It was a while before you heard her move, she got down behind you and kept one hand on your head as the next began to feel through your folds.

She slipped one finger inside you, pulled back, then added another. She curled up against that spot that always made you buck your hips wildly, even though now you were digging into the sharp wooden border of the table she’d bent you over.

"You know how to drive, right, princess?"

You paused for a moment, confused.

"Answer me."

"Um, yes?"

"You know that when you reach a traffic light, green means go and red means stop, don’t you?"

"Yeah..."

"So, right now, bent over this table, your soaking cunt filled with my fingers, you are...?"

She was speaking slowly as if you were a child that could barely comprehend this conversation. Never mind that you were definitely getting lost and her fingers were turning your brain to mush. It was another humiliation tactic and you felt yourself blushing. She’d never been quite so...formal. "Green?"

"Are you asking or telling? Green means that you are still my desperate little whore that needs to be fucked hard."

"I’m green," you assured.

"And if at any point you feel like you need me to slow down or you are beginning to get worried or uncomfortable, if you need any verbal communication, you’re yellow. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you understand if you need me to stop, if I’m hurting you or you don’t like what’s going on, you can tell me you are red and you know I won’t get mad at you?"

"Yes."

"One more time, what are you?"

"Green."

She pulled her fingers from inside you. "Arms on the table."

You hurriedly obeyed, gripping the edges hard. Carol never really spoke to you like this, it was all spoiling you in attention and affection. This was something else, something you hadn’t anticipated when you started this game.

She brought her hand down on the right side of your ass, your hips stuttered forward and your gasp and the echo of the smack filled the room. Your cheeks burned and your eyes filled with tears. It didn’t hurt, she was experimenting, but you knew it would eventually.

"And what are you now, princess?"

You swallowed, willing your voice to stay even. "Green."

She finally let go of your hair and you tilted your head a little just to get the pressure off your cheekbone. She repeated the slap on the opposite side with just a bit more pressure.

You shuddered and blurted out the same color. Your skin was stinging but you felt yourself growing wetter, your slick running down your thighs now.

She had you in this cycle until she found enough force that it was barely manageable. Tears were running down your cheeks, landing on the table and she had to hold you up on your knees because you no longer could.

She hummed. "These marks are going to be pretty in the morning."

You realized then where this came from. Had you come to her with the same attitude but without all of those marks Nat left you covered in, you probably never would have pushed Carol to this point. They had both officially found their ways to be just the slightest bit possessive.

"You sorry?"

You snorted. "No...are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You should have fucked me at the party if you really wanted me to stop sending you pictures and videos."

She rolled her eyes. "Stay here. I'm not joking."

You smirked as she stormed off to her bedroom. You knew what she would be coming back with. She returned naked, save for her strap. A smooth red dildo hung between her legs, one of the larger ones she owned.

You went to stand up but she clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Crawl over here."

You lifted your eyebrows—crawl? Hadn't she just called you ‘princess’? But you could be a ‘whore’ since she called you that, too. On hands and knees, you made your way to her.

She reached down to grab your hair, pulling you up to stand on your knees. She said nothing else as she used her other hand to press the tip of the dildo against your lips until you opened your mouth. A struggle that ended with the sounds of you choking on the piece of silicone down your throat.

The rest of the night was spent on the couch. She made you ride her strap until you physically couldn't continue, which ended up being a bit after two in the morning. She didn't tease or edge, she allowed you to come as many times as you wanted to, in fact, she ordered it—unstated, but the threat that would come from not playing her game was clear.

She didn't help, however, she stayed still underneath you and didn't say a word. She just watched you, watched as you pathetically attempted to get her to break. You would kiss her, take her fingers and suck on them, place her hands over your breasts. A few times, you even got up, turning your back to her before sinking back down on the dildo, knowing that she would love the sight of your battered ass.

Steve understood your love of ballet.

Sure, Natasha knew what you were talking about and related to you somewhat, but she also had her opinions about ballet and sometimes she was a little closed off about your dancing. And hell, Carol would support you doing anything. Tap, softball, book club, Broadway, murder, she just wanted you to be happy.

With Steve, well, he sort of understood interests that left you a little battered and bruised. His new obsession (TM) was patching you up through those unanticipated injuries and wrapping your feet before you practiced at home to prevent injuries. It was a careful 20-minute process where he was utterly focused on making sure you were completely protected. And either he paid tremendous attention to you—his skills at quickly prepping your feet was enviable—or he had a thing for ballerinas. You were okay not knowing.

When he called you and told you he was coming over, you noticed something in his voice. It was different, not that usual sweet and doting tone, but you'd heard it before. Steve was always confident and assertive, but this was...something else. Something more. When he told you that you needed to get dressed in nothing more than a leotard, you wanted to be a brat and flat out refuse, maybe just tease, but you didn’t. You had enough sense to know that it wouldn’t get you the results you wanted.

You also had reason to be nervous. Carol had left you some nice marks. They didn’t really hurt anymore, but they were there. There was also no false illusion about what they were. Steve would know and you just weren’t sure how he would feel about them. Most of your ass was covered with what you were wearing but there were still the especially dark areas that could be seen through your one-piece, and there were a few bruises that extended the cut of your outfit. Not to mention, there was no way to hide what Natasha left on your upper thighs.

But you just decided to act like it wasn’t an issue. He was the one who said he couldn’t be your boyfriend, right? He couldn’t get upset over others leaving marks behind. At least that was what you kept repeating to yourself as you walked toward your barre in the corner of your apartment living room.

You began going through your usual warm-up routine, only glancing at him when you felt you wouldn’t be caught. He was laid out on the couch, eyes following your legs as if he hadn’t seen you do this a dozen times already. He was already hard, made more noticeable by the one leg draped over the edge of the cushions. His hand was on his thigh, fingers twitching just barely. The control he was trying to maintain was clear on his face, through his sharp blue eyes, his set jaw, and furrowed brow.

It was silent the entire time and your nerves were growing. Eventually, you would have to turn around and he would have the perfect view of your ass. He’d already noticed your thighs, you saw him eyeing you when he was prepping your feet for the pointe shoes. But he didn’t say anything and he wouldn’t, because he wasn’t allowed to. Right?

With a finishing soutenu turn, you were facing the opposite direction. You heard him sit up but then it was completely silent, minus your breathing and your shoes brushing along the floor.

When you were done, you stayed put. You’d gone as far as teaching him a lot of ballet vocabulary because he knew what he wanted to see and after your warm-ups, he would often direct you. It was always somewhat thrilling—apparently, you both shared this depraved ballerina kink. Maybe there had been role play—maybe he was the casting director and you were a desperate ballerina auditioning for a role, willing to do anything to get it, and maybe he pretended he had a million and one critiques for you, and maybe instead of having the talent, you got the role after you sucked him off.

“Face the barre. Run through your pliés.”

You turned to your side, pretending to be focused on keeping your hips squared and your pelvis locked. You could do pliés no problem, but the alternative was meeting his stare in the mirror and you were too nervous to do that. You completed the demi-pliés slowly and the grand pliés much the same. Normally, he would speak during this step, knowing that he wasn’t going to distract you, but nothing.

You waited for more instructions but they never came. You felt his arms wrap around your waist and you startled—you hadn’t heard him get so close.

He just held you for a moment, pinned your back to his chest as he kissed the side of your face. His hands began to squeeze your breasts and you melted into him eagerly. But soon, gentle touching became rough grabbing and all you could do was watch him in the mirror. He looked at you like he was starving and he touched you like it had been ages.

One of his hand dropped down and grabbed your ass. You held on tighter to the barre, shuddering. "What do you call him?"

Because you just didn’t know what was good for you, you laughed. "Are you jealous?"

He gripped you harder, bringing down his other hand to join. "I don’t need to be. What do you call him?"

'I’m not fucking another man," you informed, amusement still clear in your tone. Steve Rogers jealous, you never thought you’d see the day.

"Then what do you call her?"

She had you call her captain, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that. "What do you want me to call you?" you purred. "Sir?"

"No."

You hummed. “Master? You don’t strike me as the type, but you’re weird enough that I wouldn’t be surprised."

"No."

"Then I’m not sure what you want, Steve." You did know, you’d always had the suspicion since he liked to take care of you and loved calling you baby girl.

"I won’t ask you again," he finally said. He didn’t much care what you were doing with other people, but he did have a special liking to your ass. Maybe he was just mad that someone was spanking you before he was.

When it came to Steve, you knew how to get under his skin. You always knew just what to say to shock him and he could pretend all he wanted that he didn’t love when you would say the filthiest things to him, but you knew better. And after he just handed you this, how were you supposed to resist? "I don’t think I’ll have enough time to answer."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, are we on a clock?"

You shrugged, leaning back to set your head on his shoulder. "Well, yeah, if you want to fuck me before mom gets home."

He scoffed, averting his gaze forward.

You knew you’d caught something though, his hands tightened on your hips and his jaw was doing that thing.

"You are sick."

You snorted. "And you’re hard, so."

He turned you abruptly, pinning you between his body and the barre. "Fine, what’s the story?"

You hummed. "You met my mom in a bar, you liked her, you started this all with the purest intentions. But then you stayed over one night, and there I was. You’ve tried fighting it—"

"But you don’t make it easy," he sighed.

You smirked. "I’m sorry, daddy. Really."

Any last reluctance he had was destroyed when you called him daddy. "Well, baby girl, daddy really isn’t okay that you’ve been letting so many other people fuck you."

You shrugged. "Maybe I was practicing."

He scoffed, fully aware of how you were intending to turn this. "Practicing. For what?"

"You. I just wanted to make sure I was good when you fucked me."

He hummed, turning you away once again. "And are you?"

"Good?"

"Mhm."

"The best," you promised.

"Baby, I don’t know how I feel about sharing you. What if I wanted to be your first?"

"I—"

He brought his hand up to your neck and you fell silent. "Daddy is really disappointed."

Rarely did Steve commandeer your scenes. Mostly, he pretended that he was just humoring you, then he fucked you well enough that you weren’t in the position to tease him afterward. It was a great system. But you weren’t complaining that he was suddenly changing things.

"Are you sorry for letting me down?"

You nodded quickly. It was surprising how naturally he could commit to this character.

"How are you going to make it up to me?"

"I’ll do anything," you promised.

He took his other hand, palm sliding over your ass. "Have I ever told you how much I love your ass?"

"No."

"I do... you ever had your ass fucked?"

That was a huge no. The men you had been with up to that point, prior to Steve, did not meet your standards that well. There was lacking trust, skill, most of them couldn’t define 'foreplay' if their lives depended on it. And after, well, Carol was the only one who liked straps so much and she’d never brought it up.

"No."

"No?"

You were about to repeat the answer when his hand came down on your ass. It (illogically) was the last thing you were expecting and you pathetically squeaked before you could stop yourself.

"You know what I want you to call me. Correct?"

"Yes, daddy. No, I’ve never been fucked there."

"You want daddy to fuck you there?"

"Will daddy forgive me?"

"Maybe."

Pouting, right now? Steve Rogers knew no bounds. "Yes, daddy, I want you to fuck me there."

"Spread your legs and hold the barre."

You hurriedly did as he asked, watching his face in the mirror. His eyes were focused on your ass, the way you moved, the way you were teasing him by leaning over just a little.

First, he moved your suit aside and buried two fingers inside you. You were obscenely wet, something he chuckled at.

You would have blushed, had you not already been. He pumped his fingers in and out, ordering you to watch, even though you couldn’t see much with your leotard in the way. When he added another finger, you squirmed a little, trying to get more comfortable.

"Does that hurt?"

"A little, daddy." It always hurt, taking Steve was always an adjustment process. The first few times, uncomfortable, an orgasm without his fingers rubbing quick circles around your clit was impossible. You were getting used to him, it was still a stretch, you’d just grown to like that ounce of pain because you knew how much pleasure was going to follow.

"Well, imagine how they’re going to feel in your ass. Then imagine how my cock will feel. Worried?"

"No, daddy. I like it when you hurt me."

He thrust his fingers a tad indelicately and your hips jerked.

Ass—obviously you’d said that to get a rise out of him, but still, rude. You had completely soaked through your thick suit by the time he pulled his fingers out, and not a single finish to show for it. But you figured he knew what he was doing, he’d probably had experience with this before so you were fine letting him run the show.

He pulled the material over your ass so he could watch you take his fingers.

"Take it off, daddy," you pleaded, voice all weak and breathy. You were pathetic.

"Can’t, baby. If your mom walks in, you can’t be naked."

You whined unintelligibly. Was he serious right now?

"Don’t misbehave," he warned. "I don’t want to have to punish you. Understand?"

"Yes, daddy." You set your forehead to the bar, angling your head so you could still see his face.

"Are you ready?"

You nodded slightly. "Yes, daddy." You startled a bit when you felt his finger, taking a breath when he told you to. The first finger didn’t hurt but you felt impossibly full—he was right, how were you going to take him? There was a sting when he got to his knuckle but he told you to relax so you tried.

His opposite hand reached through the suit where he pressed his fingers flat to your clit and began to massage them over you, back and forth, with a toe-curling pace and pressure. He pumped his finger in and out of your ass until you were crying out about your approaching orgasm. His finger felt different now, better, and you weren’t sure any finish had ever built up so intensely.

Before you could find out, he stopped touching your clit, dipping his first two fingers down to tease your entrance. It was then that he decided to add another finger to the one working on opening your ass for him. He was quick about it, slid one finger out, shoved two in.

You threw your head back, moaning loudly.

"Starting to feel good, baby?"

"Yes, daddy." Maybe just the looming promise of the right kind of pain, but not necessarily good. Not yet.

He continued his pattern of edging you until he had four fingers inside your ass. Your legs were shaking and his other hand was completely soaked. He never stopped talking, telling you about all the times he had thought about fucking you like this, how he touched himself during these fantasies, how he was going to make you feel better than you’d ever felt.

Steve wasn’t the most forthcoming man. He didn’t lie, never, but sometimes he kept things so completely to himself and you never had a clue. When did this obsession with your ass start, and how? And if Carol had never spanked you, would he even be doing this now? What other fantasies was he keeping to himself?

"Do you want to go to your bedroom, doll?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want your mother to catch us?" he joked.

You snorted. "Maybe I do."

He leaned over you, kissing the side of your face. "You know, I’m just saying, if you really did have a mom and I was your stepfather and was trying to fuck you on a clock, we would have definitely been caught by now."

You couldn’t possibly refrain from smiling. "You’re such a dork, Steve."

He smiled a little. "You think you’re ready?"

"Yes."

He arched an eyebrow at you. "Don’t drop the act now, baby girl."

You scoffed. "Yes, daddy. I’m ready." You watched him in the mirror as he moved his pants out of his way, something he eventually had to remove his fingers to do. You immediately missed that full feeling.

He adjusted your leotard out of his way once more, opposite hand leading his cock to you. He pressed in just barely, allowing you time to adjust or to protest if this was a failed experiment. You guys had had a few of those. Beyond handcuffs, he did not like tying you up. You guys actually weren’t overly into public sexual situations, save for the final act of The Incident. And phone sex was something that only occurred in times of true desperation. This would not be making the same list.

He folded his hands over your hip bones, pulling you back further on his cock. Your mouth dropped and your eyes slammed shut. It didn’t feel natural, it was like your body was trying to push back at him but well, Steve was nothing if not stubborn. He just kept pushing and pushing until your ass was flush against him.

It felt like an eternity when he started to pull out and then another eternity when he thrust back in, but you enjoyed every second. You felt high by the time his hips were moving easily, steadily. It was this maddening feeling like you were on the edge of something really good but he wouldn’t touch you anywhere else and it just wasn’t enough to finish. You suspected he knew that.

His hands moved up your hips and your waist until he could grab your shoulders. He stood you up, his hips stilling, your back flat to his chest. Just when you thought you he couldn’t get any deeper inside you. He pressed his hands up until he closed around your breasts. He pinched your nipples through the material, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

"Let’s go to the bedroom."

He would have a much better angle to watch, of course. Two months prior, you were days away from a huge audition so you were either at the studio or at home practicing. One night when you arrived home at nearly 10, it just felt like something wasn't right. Like someone had been in your apartment, nothing looked off. You just felt it.

You didn't lock the door behind you, just in case. You kept hold of your phone. You hadn’t spoken to Natasha that day and you worried she wouldn’t answer, she didn’t generally stay awake so late. And well, it wasn’t like Steve was a stranger to your AM calls or texts. But Carol lived closer and would have been there in a second if you’d needed her.

You made yourself move, tomorrow was another busy day. You flipped on your bedroom light, nearly sprinting straight back out when you saw flowers on your bed. But fear was quickly replaced with all sorts of confusion.

It looked like an expensive bouquet and there was a card right next to it. And see, these were not roses or daisies, these were dahlias—dark red, full, extra flowers. And who was more extra than... As the card read—ding, ding, ding. Steve Rogers. 

When you’re not so busy, we’ll try it out. 

Fear soon returned. Oh no, you thought to yourself. What could he have possibly done? It took you only three more seconds to find a full ass mirror over your bed. At the moment, you were stunned, but once more, pulled yourself out of it with your insistence of sleep. You did not have time for this.

However, when you were in bed, your phone charging next to you, you just couldn’t fall asleep. Of course. You had to call Steve. He’d broken into your home, or allowed others to break into your home, without your permission. All to put a fucking mirror over the god damn bed? He was insane, you realized.

"Hey, doll."

He sounded so smug. "You’re sick."

"Hmm, does that mean you don’t like it?"

"That means what I said: you’re sick."

"Take your clothes off."

You snorted. "Who said I’m wearing any?"

As mentioned, this wasn’t your usual routine with him. Steve loved seeing you, feeling you—phone sex just didn’t cut it. But who knew when you would have time for him next?

"There are many toys in your bedside table, pick one now."

You eagerly obliged, spreading your legs and fucking yourself with a vibrator he’d used on you several times. He told you to watch, to not take your eyes off the mirror.

The mirror added to discovering that Steve Rogers liked role-play had been some of the most pleasant surprises of your life. It was fun for both of you, never a question about when or where. When either of you wanted it, the other was always up for it. You’d thought it was just a one-time thing after the ballet incident, but then he found handcuffs in your room, which believe it or not, you hadn’t actually been using for sex. They were sex handcuffs, but they were just part of your costume to the Valentine's Day party Carol had taken you to, thrown by the lovely Maria.

Regardless, he asked you about them and you dismissed them. He then “arrested” you for “being a brat”. That got you bent over the kitchen counter as he fucked you from behind. He had you beg him to let you go but didn’t stop until his cum was dripping out of you onto the floor.

Then he’d noticed you were struggling in one of your classes and offered a prize for doing well on an upcoming exam. Of 50 questions, you’d only missed 4. He laid you out on your bed and told you he was going to eat you out. After the first time, you attempted to pull him up to you, gasping about how you needed him inside you, please Steve. He grabbed your hands and held them down, ordering you to call him professor Rogers. 

Then there was the loose sugar daddy scene. He’d bought you a diamond choker on one of his trips away and it was stunning. You felt spoiled and wanted him to feel the same. You got on your knees and stayed there until you were sure your jaw was going to suffer permanent damage if you kept your mouth open that wide for much longer. It was three days later that he sent you a screenshot of your Instagram post about the diamond choker and told you to get dressed exactly how you were in the photo. So, in a rose pink wig, a tiny pink satin dress, a dangerously high pair of red heels, and the diamond choker. He didn’t use your name when finally got to your apartment, he called you baby and made you ride him, fully dressed, until you couldn’t sit up on your own.

Then there was the time Steve Rogers actually sent you the address to a sex shop and told you to meet him there. You’d had no idea until you pulled up to the building but you knew immediately that you were going to enjoy this. He asked you to help him find toys that his wife would enjoy—you told yourself you could play along, but you definitely needed to smack him upside the head later. When he got you in the car, after a little back and forth, you being somewhat mouthy, he placed one of the vibrators inside you and wouldn’t turn it off. His fingers paid attention to your clit the entire drive home.

Your payback for that was you dressed as one of his former chorus girls. A designer at the university that you’d met because she always made the costumes for the show was all too happy to help. You sent him a picture of the outfit then flipped the skirt up to show him you weren’t wearing underwear. The absolute last thing you expected was for him to show up in one of his suits. He was wild almost animalistic, he made you scream so loud that three different neighbors came to check if you were okay. Which had been a great source of pride to him.

Then you bought a stripper pole. It took 7 entire classes before you had any idea what you were doing. Though he appreciated it, it was a requirement of patience that he did not want to execute. Natasha, though,

Natasha loved watching you dance. Carol had the same problem as Steve but if you let Natasha, she would watch you for hours.

When you woke up, it was because Steve was getting out of bed. You glanced at the clock, 4 in the morning. He was getting up for his run, then he'd head out to the tower for another day at the office.

He fucked you again before he left. He had you on top of him, chest to chest, his arms wrapped tight around your back, one hand on the back of your head to hold you to the bend of his neck. He liked to do this with the mirror. He liked holding you flat against him and then watching your ass as he fucked you fervidly. He had become wild and insatiable since the mirror's arrival.

Natasha liked to lay you down, tie your legs to the bedpost, sometimes your arms, and would spend hours teasing you with her mouth. Sometimes, when she knew you weren’t too tired, she would tell you to finger yourself and she would stay next to you and watch in the mirror for as long as you would allow it.

Carol liked making you ride her and you couldn’t deny that was a beautiful scene to watch play out from above. She also liked to turn you away from her, settle directly behind you, drape your leg back over her hip, and fuck you with one of her straps.

They had their shared interests, that was undeniable. You still blushed every time you thought about The Incident. It occurred four months ago. They’d been on a short trip; not even a mission, they’d promised, they’d told you it was more politics than saving the world. The first one you saw when they got back was Carol.

She had texted you while you were out with friends and asked where you were. You informed her that you would be shopping alone after lunch. She joined you because she had a present that she just couldn’t wait. It was a vibrator that she could control from her phone. She never used it while you were walking, concerned that you may actually fall and hurt yourself but if you stopped to look at something or sat down for even a second, it was on.

Natasha had taken you to the restaurant. She told you to go to the bathroom and take off your bra and panties and she handed you her purse to place them in. She made you sit down next to her, slipped the same vibrator inside you, then made you sit on her lap for the entire night. She let you watch her phone, let you know when she was going to speed up or slow down, and all she did the entire night was sip on her wine and keep a tight hold on you so you couldn't move away from her.

Two days later, Steve made you wear it to class. Not ballet class, actual classes where you would be sitting down. It was so random when you would feel it and it was terrifying as he wasn't there. You never knew when or where, or if you were standing up and reading! You wanted to hit him when you got back to your apartment and he was waiting for you. You didn't, but you were really upset. Mostly because he hadn't let you come the entire day.

You wanted to know why? You’d asked, but their answers were dismissive and it wasn’t like you could elaborate on what you actually meant. You weren’t just asking why, you were asking why all three? It was just one of those answers you weren’t going to get while you were still keeping secrets from them.

When Natasha showed up after Steve left, it was two hours before class. You were still in bed checking social media when she slipped under the covers and made you come with her mouth and fingers. You’d taken a shower since Steve left, fortunately.

She kissed up your body and settled on top of you. You undressed her, kissing her bare skin as soon as you exposed it, her arms, her chest, her stomach, her legs, her ass, her cunt. She wanted you on top, grinding against her as she watched in the mirror.

She walked you to class and you fingered her in the dimly lit hallway before she left. She picked you up afterward and made you eat since you simply did not have the time to before class. She walked you home, set up her phone on the table next to the couch, sat down, sat you on top of her, and made you ride her fingers. Sometimes, Natasha wanted videos.

In between your second and third lecture classes, the biggest gap in your day, Carol texted. She picked you up in her car and drove out to some hiking trails that she felt were empty enough. In the back of her car, she had you pressed down to the seats, ass up as she fucked you with her strap. She held the side of your face down against the leather, not so much that it would stifle your screams.

When you finished, she made you clean the seat with your tongue. You could distinctly tell the difference between her taste and yours. She watched you as she removed the strap, taking the dildo and fucking herself with it.

She laid back and let you on top, directing you to sink down on the dildo as it was still buried in her pussy. You didn’t stop taking it until your pussy was against hers, thankfully it wasn’t one of the longer ones in her collection. Leaning over, you used the side of the car to keep your balance. She rose onto her elbows, nipping and sucking at your nipples as you ground your wet center against hers.

This was a regular day, one you had grown to love, one you were completely obsessed with. You were scared. You felt that the likelihood of them all being okay with this was low. But you were not so scared that you would ever lie to them. Withhold information? Sure. Lie? Out of the question.

You'd finally confided in the ballerinas. They'd always known about Natasha because she was at practice all of the time, but you only told half-truths about Steve and Carol. You didn't actually want them to know that you were sleeping with three Avengers. Maybe it was because everyone was drunk, but they promised you that Natasha adored you and she wouldn't leave you.

Okay, but what about Steve and Carol? You were stressed, really stressed. During the preparation period for shows, when training was intense, the ballerinas often went out on Saturdays and got wasted and talked. This was why you were in a loud night club with dancing and alcohol, and no one who was going to stop any of you from getting in trouble.

You were impaired but you were not a bad friend. At the bar, you counted all of your friends. They would likely be leaving with someone as they had all found someone to dance with, you would make the rounds in a minute. It was a rule, if they wanted to leave with a guy, that guy had to give you his number. You would verify it right then and there by sending him a text, then they could be on their way.

It was one in the morning when the girls started leaving. You had a drink at your side and five new names (proven by ID) and numbers saved in your notes.

"That's sweet."

You turned to your left, eyebrows shooting up. Gorgeous blue eyes, long brown hair, and beautiful fair skin. Wanda Maximoff was either sitting right next to you at a bar or you were completely imagining her. Given your drunken state and your current obsession with her, it was possible.

"Well, they don't exactly agree...I read stories about guys and bars and how to avoid getting chopped up into little pieces."

She smiled a little. "Who makes sure you get home?"

"I live close."

She hummed. "Were you heading out?"

Yes, you should say yes. You should leave because this could not happen. You didn't know how to explain that you were sleeping with three of them! And Wanda was wearing this red dress that was really tight and so low cut, so, how would you explain four?!

"Maybe...after I finish my drink."

She eyed your glass for a moment. "I'm Wanda."

"I know. I'm Y/N."

"I think you're the first person who's recognized me all night."

"You're stunning. I don't know how anyone wouldn't recognize you."

She smiled slightly, turning back down to her glass.

There was something so wrong with you. Instead of leaving, you just wanted to sit there and drunkenly flirt, clearly.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

No, say no! "Sure."

It was two drinks later, technically three drinks later, since you finished your drink and then she bought you two more. Things were starting to get...closer. You guys were closer. You'd started out at a normal distance, at least you assumed, but the next thing you realized, you were centimeters away from her.

She had her hand on your arm and she'd stopped ordering drinks. She was ready to leave or almost ready to leave. You hadn't neglected your duties as the best friend. You had 12 names and numbers in your notes but now you were realizing that you were all alone and if you wanted to do something, you could.

You'd talked about yourself a little, the usual. You were a student, you were a ballerina. However, you left the part out about your apparent gambling addiction! She didn't share much and you didn't think that was odd, the others didn't for a long while. They had to be a lot more guarded than you. You completely understood.

Wanda glanced at her phone when the conversation died down, or when you stopped babbling like the intoxicated fool you were, before looking back at you. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Yeah." You should still be saying no. You should try being honest. You should say: I'm sleeping with three of your team members and I should go home. But god, she really was fucking stunning.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"I do. I have a boyfriend that I love very much...but sometimes, there are things that I want to try. Things that he doesn't want to try."

"Are you...referring to me?" That was a stupid question, you were almost sure. But was she? Was that what you were supposed to be picking up?

She scoffed. "In a sense, yes. I do think you are beautiful and you're nice, and really cute. I want to have sex with you, but it can't be a relationship. My boyfriend is offering me an open arrangement... I'm still with him, very committed, but sometimes...I would like to call you and meet you. Does that sound like something you would be okay with?"

Should you be offended by how many Avengers didn't want to be in a relationship with you at this point? You may end up dwelling on that later, but now, you were thinking about having sex with her. She looked soft and sweet, very unlike Carol, Steve, and Natasha. You weren't saying she was better or worse, it wasn't like you were comparing them to rank them.

You were just acutely aware of the fact that they were so dominant and you were not. Wanda didn't seem to need that so much, she seemed like she would be fine just having sex. Meaningful sex, but not too meaningful. Soft sex, but not boring. In fact, it sounded like she wanted to try something different, and maybe you wanted to also.

So, you said yes. Mostly because it reminded you that Natasha, Steve, and Carol all said they were not able to be in an actual relationship with you. You were getting ahead of yourself, maybe they wouldn't care at all. Maybe it would be a complete non-issue, and you shouldn't miss out on having sex with Wanda if you don't have any proof that they'll react negatively.

She kissed you the first time while you were both still sitting at the bar. After you'd given her your consent, she set her hand to your cheek and pressed her lips to yours. It was all soft lips and tongue, no teeth, no power play. She tasted like alcohol and lip gloss, at least her mouth did. You wanted to know what her pussy tasted like, which you didn't fail to whisper to her when she pulled away.

She immediately took your hand and led you out of the club. It wasn't terribly cold as you waited for the Uber she sent for. She was just a bit taller than you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders as she leaned down again to kiss you. Your hands started at her hips but soon began to roam, her ass, her waist, her back, her shoulders to pull her down closer.

By the time the driver showed, you were both completely flushed and very ready to find a bed. She was taking you to a hotel. You figured that was best, no need to add any more people to the list of individuals who randomly show up at your apartment without calling or texting.

She kept her hand on your thigh the entire drive there but didn't dare move it underneath your dress. Another point of difference between her and her teammates. Any of the others and you would have already finished at least twice.

Getting up to the room was a blur. Thankfully, she did all the talking. You weren't sure how to function under this kind of calm, steady build. It was always fast and immediately, but Wanda was taking her time and making sure everything was how she wanted it.

When you finally got into the room, she didn't bother turning on the light. She curled one arm around you, the other pulling your hair off to the side as she began to kiss your neck. She held you against her as she walked forward. There was a bed that you supposed was big enough, a small bathroom, a sad excuse for a kitchen, a huge window with dirty curtains shining light on the mattress.

None of that really mattered, anyway. She led you closer to the window, stopping only when she wanted to remove your dress. It hit the floor, she peeled the curtain away from the window, and her hands were all over you. "Is this okay? I like the moonlight tonight."

She waited for your confirmation before she ran her hands up and down your sides, a teasing touch before she grabbed your breasts. She was still kissing your neck, gentle and open-mouthed.

You turned your head upward, catching her mouth. She opened her lips for you instantly and you took full advantage of that with a slow but sloppy kiss. Her fingers trailed down from the middle of your chest, straight down your stomach, and all the way to your pussy.

She hummed when she felt you were wet. The brushes against your clit were faint but somehow it was enough, it didn't take long at all for you to unhurriedly fall apart. Your legs were shaking and your mind was even more blurry than before.

You turned to her to slip her out of her dress. You kissed across her collarbone, then over her chest, glancing up as you closed your lips around one of her nipples. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head fell back, and she opened her beautiful mouth to moan.

Your hands on her hips, you directed her to the bed. She sat down first, grabbing your arms to pull you down with her. Your naked skin was flush against hers and all you did for the longest time was kiss. Hands buried in each other's hair, quiet moans and gasps filling the room, all the while just building up to this intense scene.

When you sat up, she remained on her back. She pushed your hair over your shoulders so she could see your chest and your face. She was right about the moonlight, it washed over her so well.

You kissed her chin, off to the side of her jaw, then down her shoulder and arm until you reached her hand. You took it in yours, the same with the other as you lowered onto your knees on the floor, intertwining your fingers. There was no prelude, you simply took her with your mouth.

She cried out your name, arching her back and squeezing your hands. She tasted sweet, smelled musky and a little like vanilla. You kissed down the length of her soaking cunt, sliding your tongue into her entrance.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped. "Do that again."

You obliged, releasing one of her hands so you could rub her clit with your fingers. She took her newly freed hand and grabbed your hair. She pulled you down harder, rolling her hips up slowly, trying to get your tongue in deeper.

Not even a minute later, she was making you aware of her approaching orgasm, "I'm close, suck my clit--please, fuck! Suck my clit."

You ran your tongue through her as you brought your hand down, you closed your lips around her and began to suck hard. You pressed two fingers inside her and pumped them in and out, moaning when you felt her clenching around them.

She was shaky and smiling as you lazily licked her through her finish. She pulled you up as soon as her brain was working enough to tell her arms to pull you up. "And how do I taste?"

"Amazing."

She smirked.

You had to figure her boyfriend wasn't much for going down on her since she was looking at you like you were the reason the sun would rise tomorrow morning.

You laid on top of her but she quickly rolled over, legs slotting so you could grind against one another's thigh. Her slick center against your skin was almost enough to make you finish. Again, her mouth was on yours and nothing was hurried. You canted your hips, catching your clit on her soft leg, and she did the same.

Soon, your hips started to gain speed, you were close and could tell she was, too. The sounds of wet pussy slapping against thigh nearly drowned out the desperate screams and whines you both made.

You completely soaked her thigh with your orgasm. As she continued pursuing hers, she reached down, hand gliding between you and her wet skin. She brought her fingers up to her mouth, humming and sucking on them. "I can't wait to have you sit on my face." Then she closed her eyes, her hips stuttered, and your leg felt much hotter.

She didn't waste any time at all, she rolled back over and hauled you on top of her. Your hips jerked when you pressed against her, still sensitive from the last finish. She didn't seem to mind, she just placed both hands on your hips and moved you relentlessly against her.

"Hands behind your back, lean onto the mattress," she instructed.

You quickly did so, relieved to have some type of balance.

She loved watching your breasts bounce this way, loved watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. And she especially loved when you sat up again to grab her hands, an attempt to pull away from the overstimulation. She didn't allow it, she kept her grip tight and pulled you in faster as she rolled her hips up.