#like there is literally nothing in avengers 1 backing that up

[worstloki]

literally who looks at avengers 1 loki and goes "oh ya that's a healthy guy who wants to be here"

[endless-ineffabilities]

So High School (1/2)

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : the one wherein the reader and Bucky navigate the initial stages of falling in love, and well, it feels a whole lot like high school <3

themes : friends to lovers, slight jealousy, Bucky and the reader are Avengers, everyone is alive!

word count : 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n : inspired by Taylor Swift's So High School - that song makes me so fuckin happy I can't even begin to explain it... This fic is all giddy and warm, kind of like when you have a crush, playfulness and jealousy abound 💙

You are almost certain that you left your beloved leather jacket back on the quinjet.

The mission made you exhausted, like they always do, and you remember taking your jacket off and settling in for a nap on the ride back to the Avengers compound.

"FRIDAY, is the quinjet still at base level?" you ask aloud to the compound's omnipresent AI overseer.

She chimes in straight away, "Yes, the quinjet is undergoing routine checks downstairs."

"Well," you say to yourself, "I could use the walk."

FRIDAY speaks again, unprompted, "There is one James Buchanan Barnes heading to your door right now."

Bucky? "Oh, right now?"

"Yes, he'll be knocking in 3... 2... 1..."

And sure enough, he does.

You open the door to his sheepish, easy smile. FRIDAY would definitely be picking up on your vitals, noting your clammy hands and jumping heartbeat.

You desperately hope that she would shut up about it, otherwise you might just literally throw hands with Tony.

"Hi," he greets. Just that - just 'hi' - and he has you blushing like a schoolgirl. Damn it.

"Hey," you reply. Glancing down, you realise that he has just what you're looking for.

The jacket. You mean your jacket. Mind out of the gutter, you kick yourself internally.

"I, uh, think you left this back at the - "

" - the quinjet."

"Right, and I, well - " he stammers, and you don't understand why, when you're clearly the nervous one here.

"You're... here to give it back to me," you help him out, smiling.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling back at you. Leaning against your doorframe, he stays right in place, and you suddenly feel conscious by the way he's just looking at you.

"Uhm, Bucky?" you break the silence after a while, anxiously laughing.

"Yeah, doll?"

"My jacket?" you hold out your hand expectantly.

"Oh, here," he quickly hands it over to you, and you thank him. But he stays, rubbing the back of his neck, brows furrowed in thought. "Listen, I was wondering if - "

"There you two are!" Sam's booming voice startles you, and you spot him walking down the hall. "Debriefing time, kids, come on."

"Oh, right," you groan, tossing your jacket somewhere behind you. Shutting your door, you turn to Bucky, "Sorry, Buck, can it wait?"

"Can what wait?" Sam butts in, ears like a bat. He nudges Bucky with his shoulder, and you swear you see Bucky glare at him, while blushing all the while.

"Nothing," he mumbles and the three of you make your way towards the elevators. When Sam becomes distracted by some new panelling Tony installed recently, you catch Bucky's eye, and shrug as if to say - you can tell me later.

He simply nods. When the doors open, you feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you in. Just for the briefest of moments, but it lingers in your mind.

So much so, that Tony tosses a pencil at you during debriefing when you're spaced out and didn't answer his question.

"Daydreaming, princess?" Tony smirks.

"Leave her alone, Tony," Steve comes to your rescue, ever the considerate leader. "She's tired, just like the rest of us."

"Yeah, sure," Tony shrugs. "Or maybe Bionic Man over there is distracting her with all the staring he does."

"Shut up, Tony," Natasha protests, catching your surprised look.

"I'm not staring," you hear Bucky say.

"Oh, man, you stare all the time. At everything," Sam counters. "Especially at her."

"No. I don't."

"Yes, you do. Doesn't he, Steve?" Sam laughs, twisting around to share the joke with Steve, who just fondly shakes his head, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

Your mouth feels dry, face flushed from the suggestive bickering partially at your expense, and when you ask, "Alright, alright, what was your question, Tony?"

Tony cheekily smirks, and says, "Quick, Barnes, look away."

"Oh, god," you tilt your head back and stare at the ceiling.

It's a collective, "Tony!" that followed, likely from Steve and Nat. Possibly Bruce, too.

Tony asks you again, something about the safety measures in place for the civilians left behind.

When you answer his question, you can't help but feel a certain pair of blue eyes looking at you.

But that means nothing, right? Bucky's just listening to whatever you have to say. The mission had been important, after all.

Five minutes later, in the middle of Bruce's explanation, you feel it again.

So you look to the side, only slightly, catching Bucky quickly turning to draw his attention back at Bruce.

Oh.

"What are you smirking at me for?" you approach Natasha, while tightening your hand wraps. Some of the Avengers have convened for routine combat practice. You've been looking forward to it, mostly being cooped up in the two weeks after the recent mission.

Natasha sports her signature knowing look when she says, "You're paired with Barnes today, milochka moya."

"Bucky? And?" you clear your throat, and you clock Bucky and Sam entering the gym in your periphery. Is it just you or did your voice just crack? No, it couldn't have.

There's no reason to be nervous, no reason at all.

Sure, he'll get all sweaty and he'll have to get his hands on you and he'll get close... very close... pressed against...

"I see I've lost you already," Natasha is quick to note. "And we haven't even started yet."

Wanda joins you, greeting with, "Did you know you'll be paired with Barnes today?"

Oh my god. You exclaim, "Why is everyone making a big deal out of it?"

"Because," is all Wanda responds with.

"Thanks, Wanda," you nod sarcastically. "Thank you both. Can we just get this over with?"

"Guys?" you call out loudly, addressing everyone in the room.

"Yes, everyone. It is best if we start," Vision says, him being the supervisor for training today. Leave it to an all-knowing entity to be well-versed in every fighting art in existence.

He reads off the combat pairings for the day, and their assigned fighting style.

Clint and Nat, krav maga.

Wanda and Sam, aikido. Though to be fair, she doesn't really need to use her fists should it come to that. Wanda's powers were beyond your comprehension. This is mostly just a fun little exercise for her.

And finally, Vision says your name followed by Bucky's, with the fighting style of jiu-jitsu.

That damned close-contact sport. You're well-trained in it, thanks to your job, but it involves a lot of straddling and the opponent heavily breathing down on your face. It wasn't exactly your first choice out there in the field.

But here? Well, it seems like you don't really have a choice.

Well, you do. And would you really choose otherwise?

Close contact with Bucky?

"Hey, doll," he walks right over, all prepped and ready. Clad in a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. One look at him and you know you're not likely to survive this training session.

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" you cheekily say, as you to walk over to your designated area of the room with him right on your tail.

He smiles, mumbling something which sounded like, " - let you do anything you want to me."

"I'm sorry?" you blurt out, occupying yourself with the control panel for the instructional hologram.

"Nothing," he bites his lip. Oh, he just knows you heard him.

"Okay, so - " The hologram starts right up, showing faceless figures go through a standard combat routine. Ankle sweep. Closed guard. Arm bar. Back and forth until someone taps out. Then all over again.

"Fun," you remark, moving to circle him on the mat. "Give it your best shot, Barnes."

He makes the first move, trying to sweep your leg with his own and failing. You're too quick for that. As long as you don't get sidetracked by that shit-eating smirk on his face, you'll be just fine.

He rushes at you again, but you jump out of the way. You manage you hook your leg around his torso, and use your whole weight to force him down on the mat.

You end up with one knee pressed to his chest, your forearm applying the slighest pressure on his throat. It's an easy position to counter, and he should be propelling you off of him already. Maneuvering your arm out of the way. Something. Anything.

But the man just stares.

You'll be damned, but Sam was right.

"Bucky, come on," you snap.

Instead of a countermove, he hits you with something more disarming. "You look good up there," he says.

"What?"

"I like the view," he only adds, speeding up the rush of warmth to your face.

Your body goes slack, and your pressure on his neck eases. You struggle to think of something nonchalant, something blasé to say in turn, when he takes advantage of the moment and flips the two of you over.

He ends up on top of you, legs caging you in, hands gripping your wrists by the sides of the face.

"Shit," you curse when you realise what just happened. "Well played."

"Thanks," he responds. "I meant it though, you do look pretty. Like always."

"Another trick, Buck?" You attempt to play it cool. Maybe you can play off the obvious flush on your face as physical exertion. Not whatever this is. Not because of him.

He only smiles, getting back on his feet and extending a hand out to you.

"Not a trick," he says, as you both get ready for the next round.

"I'd say I'm flattered, if you weren't trying to beat me in hand-to-hand combat."

"Doll, I think it's safe to say that you won already," he says, his gaze softening.

What is he on about? "Uhh, no, that was barely anything. We're supposed to keep going."

His brows furrow, though his smile stays in place, albeit a bit strained. "That's not what I meant," he exhales, reaching forward to attempt a restricting hold.

His expression turns serious then, steely gaze boring into you, analyzing your every move. He lunges at you, and you block him. But he tries again and again, each move more precise and forceful.

He steps back to take a breath, and you use the opportunity to sweep his ankle, but he sees it coming. In a flash, he pulls your arm and twists you around so that your back is pressed to his chest. You wrangle against him, making him fall on his back, but he keeps his hold on you.

His metal arm encases your torso with your arms pinned to your sides, and his legs wrap around yours. Air rushes out of you in shaky pants, and you move your head to the side, the only part of you still mobile.

And he's right there, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek. The tension is almost too much to bear, because you feel all of him - the solid planes of his torso, the coarseness of his facial hair growing out - and for the love of all things sacred, you hope you don't accidentally wriggle your ass against his crotch.

Bucky wishes so too. He would never be able to live that down, especially if one of the others would come around and notice.

"Do you yield?" His voice is rough, commanding against your ear. Even though it's nothing more than an assertive whisper, a shiver runs through your body.

"Y-yes," you muster, "I yield."

He keeps his hold on you a moment longer, and before you can ask him if something's wrong, and why he's not letting you go yet, he releases you.

And it doesn't bring you relief, surprisingly. Almost as if you just want to go right back into his embrace.

As you two get back on your feet, Vision's sudden appearance almost makes you keel over, startling the living daylights out of you.

"That was good," Vision comments.

"What the - Vis!" you place a hand on your chest to calm down. "Maybe announce yourself when you show up please!"

"But I've been standing here for approximately 37 seconds," he expertly says.

"Okay, well - "

"You both did not notice me," he goes on, matter-of factly. "Perhaps it might have something to do with your sheer focus on one another - "

"Okay, Vision, thank you," you attempt to intervene, to no avail.

" - which is good. In combat, you do need to stay hypervigilant. Although, might I comment, that the sudden increase in arousal hormones is not really conducive to battle - "

"Vision!" you and Bucky exclaim in unison.

Thankfully, Wanda notices and comes to your rescue, "O-kay, Vis, why don't you come and check mine and Sam's progress, hmm?"

"Of course," Vision complies immediately and they walk away hand in hand. Must have something to do with his undying penchant for Wanda.

Wanda throws you an apologetic shrug, before her eyes get drawn downward to something else near you, and she has to bite her lip to hold back a giggle.

You feel Bucky's hand take hold of your waist, ever so gentle, and everything else is quickly forgotten.

"You okay?" he asks, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

He stands close, and you catch a hint of his scent, sandalwood and mint, layered beneath a musk that can only be undeniably Bucky.

You hum in affirmation. Shaking you head, you respond with, "Vision was just being... Vision. Can never keep his observations to himself." His thumb moves, caressing lightly at your waist, the movement seemingly instinctive for him.

"Yeah, well," he smiles to himself, before reaching up and tucking back a stray lock of hair from your face, "the thing about that droid is... he doesn't lie."

He steps back, rolling his shoulders, getting ready for another bout of combat. As if he didn't have you subdued already.

"He wasn't lying about me, at least," he smirks, before getting into a stance and putting his arms up.

Feeling brave, because there's no way you're going to come out of this interaction as the only one flustered, you respond with, "He wasn't lying about me, neither."

Bucky doesn't expect that, used to being the suave and cockier one out of this dynamic. His fighting stance loosens, and he barely croaks, "What?"

Gotcha.

It doesn't take long for you to sweep him off his feet.

When you're left straddling him once more, you hit him back with, "I like the view."

He bites his lip, and then laughs, flushed and impressed.

Still on the ground, staring up at you, he decisively ends the match, the final blow too much for you to bear. Because he settles for saying, "Still doesn't beat my view, beautiful."

After more than an hour of fidgeting around your room, clothes strewn everywhere and music blasted to calm you down, you were finally ready.

Bucky had asked you what you were doing for the weekend, and you said you didn't have anything in mind, but asked him if he wanted to watch a movie in the common lounge with you.

He eagerly agreed, before you two were interrupted by Sam mentioning something about new upgrades to Red Wing.

So you didn't get to clarify what the nature of the plan was. Likely it was just another hangout. It wouldn't be the first time you and Bucky watched a movie together, went on excursions on your motorbikes, or headed out to grab some sushi.

Save for Natasha and Wanda, he's the one you spend the most time with.

And none of those times ever was a date.

But you feel nervous as you walk down the hallway. You've been nervous all the while you spent getting ready, unable to choose the right top, and eventually settling for a V-neck cobalt blue shirt that he once said he liked on you.

You're nervous because tonight could be it. You've taken it upon yourself to finally ask him.

Ask him what exactly? Whether he likes you as someone more than a friend? Whether there is a reason to all that staring that he does?

Whether he wants to kiss you as badly as you want to kiss him?

So, something along those lines.

He's standing right around the entrance to the common lounge, and you immediately think at how sweet it is that he's waiting for you.

Until he broke the news.

"Doll, I - " Bucky says, right after you come into view. "Oh, wow, you look great."

Smiling widely, you look down like it was nothing, like you didn't just spend the last hour worrying. "Thanks, Buck."

"Uhh, I have something to tell you, actually. You remember Yori? The man from - "

"Of course I remember him," you nod, now confused at what he's getting onto.

"Yeah," he hesitates, not sure he wants to speak further. All he wants is to spend the night curled up in the lounge with you, but all that is gone when he continues, "he kind of set me up on a date."

"A date?" your stomach sinks.

"With Leah. You know Leah? The girl who works at the restaurant that we go to sometimes with Yori?"

"Yeah," you shrug and look away, hoping your expression doesn't give away too much, "I know who she is. So you have a date, huh?"

"Tonight," he confirms. "I didn't... didn't even ask her, really. But last night at dinner, Yori asked and she heard and said yes - "

"She's really lovely. This is good, Buck."

"Yes, but we made plans, and I didn't want to - "

"No, don't worry about it." you put your palms up, as if to show him that you take the situation lightly. It was no problem, after all. He has to go on this date. You can watch movies together any time.

"Doll," he sighs. "I was actually thinking that, since we had plans already, you could come with me? I'm sure she would understand - "

"Bucky," you laugh dryly, "I am not crashing your date."

"But - "

"No buts," you have to affirm. "You have a date, so it has to be just you and her."

He purses his lips, nodding. He tries to gauge your expression, whether you're pissed at him or anything, but he's only met with a reassuring smile.

"What time is your date?" you ask.

"In about 40 minutes," he replies, giving you a good once-over again, taking you in fully. You really looked good, and he wants nothing more than to just stare at you the whole damn night. If only he wasn't so polite. If only he had the guts to just turn Leah down.

His face falls when you say, "I guess you better go," with a hint of enthusiasm, not knowing that it's your attempt at putting on a brave face.

"What will you do?" he asks.

"I don't know," you shrug. "I'm sure I'll find something. The others are mostly around so - "

"Hey!" Steve rounds up the corner, still clad in his riding jacket, having returned from outdoors.

"Going somewhere, you two?" Steve asks, his signature congenial smile in place.

"Not me," you respond, smiling back. "But Bucky here has a date actually."

"A date?" Steve says, taken aback. Did Bucky not tell him about this? He looks between the two of you, trying to put things into place, "Do you mean - ?" He trails off, gesturing at you.

"No!" A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. Of course, not with you. You wish.

"Really?" Steve makes a face, like the thought of Bucky going on a date with someone else was ridiculous, but he quickly collects himself. It's none of his business, for now. But he'll surely grill his bestfriend on it later.

"Don't you have to leave, Buck?" you turn to him. "You don't want to keep Leah waiting."

"Yeah, I suppose I should. I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?" He says, taking a few measured steps back. Not wanting to turn away, and have you out of his sight.

"Sure," you smile, but it's weak and you know it is. Watching him walk away, you can no longer hide the disappointment you feel.

Bucky is still within earshot when you turn to Steve and innocently ask, "Are you busy, Steve? Care to watch a movie in the lounge?" Steve of course agrees, and lets his arm drape around you.

Bucky knows that you and Steve are just friends. Steve has gotten a hint of how he feels about you, and far be it from him to take his friend's girl.

But it doesn't quell that sinking feeling, when he looks back. He sees you smiling up at Steve, as the two of you disappear into the lounge.

It's going to be a long night.

[mad-maximoff]

We Met Again

Part 2 of When We Met since y’all asked so damn much! I just hope this one doesn't get censored too😅

Summary: You were on a 6-month-long mission with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes only to come back to the compound and face Wanda.

Warnings: G!P reader, angst, making out, unprotected sex, ejaculation , soft sex turned rough, hair-pulling, breaking the bed (literally😂),

Word Count: 3,702

Prt 1 Here

"Welcome back Y/n, how was your little adventure with the boys?" Kate Bishop stood behind the bar making herself a pink alcoholic slush of some sort. You were covered in dirt and soot from head to toe. You just got off a mission with Sam and Bucky. You were in Egypt going about looking for a highly classified terrorist ring. Thankfully you got to them before they started their reign. 

"Adventure my ass. I slept on the dirt while the boys slept in cozy beds like princesses. I tell you what I need is a shower and to take a well-deserved dirt nap in a real bed." You threw your weapons on the table halting at a chair and flinging off your boots. "I'll clean this shit up later Kat, I've been waiting for this." You turned to see Kate pouring herself a tall misshapen glass full of pink slush. "Sure thing Y/n, you and I are the only ones here I think. You want the rest?" She licked the side of her glass where she spilt. "Why not, might help me crash harder." You reached around Kate grabbing the whole blender. There was more than a mouthful left. You thought maybe it was strawberry daiquiri, so you thought nothing of it and chugged it. The first sip made you gag.

"Jesus Christ Bishop! Paloma? Really? What are you 40? You've been around Potts too long. Good lord.." You hated tequila, especially grapefruit. You polished it off not backing down leaving it on a table in the middle of the hallway. You knew there were empty beds not touched by any of the other Avengers. Basically new. It was funny really. Everything to you looked new but it was just the same as the last time you were down this hallway. Maybe it looked new because the last time you were here you were drunk with your pants around your ankles. Come to think of it. That table was new. You pivoted around noticing the table on further inspection. You saw a crack along the wall. Oh yeah, you remember. That was the spot. The spot where you and Wanda...

Yeah...Wanda...

You remember where her room was. You remember you crashed there after you both finished your fun in the hall. Curiosity killed the cat. You noticed the door was slightly cracked allowing light to shine through. But it was almost midnight, it wasn't natural light. It was from a light. Is she there? Did she forget to turn off the lights? Maybe. You pondered. Kate did say after all you two were the two here so it was bound she forgot. It's a common mistake. 

You tip-toed over to her room letting your fingers creep through the part between the door and the wall slightly allowing the length of your fingers to pry the door a bit more. Your strength got the hold of you as it flung open. Wanda was sitting at the edge of her bed in her room, with her leg raised to lean her elbow on her knee, underneath her chin. 

"Kate honey I told you for the third time today. We can drink and watch Sex and The City tomorrow. I don't feel up to it." She huffed watching the news. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes darting back and forth watching the live footage of whatever catastrophe happened. "So you're the one drinking Palomas huh?" You leaned in the door frame crossing your arms. You had to laugh. You never thought she was a cocktail girl. Though..you never thought she was the kind to give blowjobs either but you were surprised by both.

"Oh..it's you...no I don't drink that shit. She found Tony's recipe book for Pepper and his date nights and she's drinking like a fish...When did you come back to the States?" She was genuinely surprised to see me. Her leg fell from where it was prompted. Wanda stood up walking the length of her bedframe around to meet you.

You were shocked also. Maybe she wasn't showing yet? You swore you thought you'd come home and find her pregnant but unless she's super athletic or has it hidden she doesn't look like she's expecting.

"Ah 30 minutes ago. Um..stupid question.." You scratched your head looking down at Wanda then back up at her eyes. She laughed standing in front of you. Her hand reached to your cheek whipping the loose dirt from your undereye. 

"Haha no! Unfortunately, I'm not pregnant. I don't know how. I always thought that first tries always work. I even helped you out a bit." 

"Unfortunately? You wanted me to get you pregnant? Are you insane? You don't even know me and you want kids from me! I'm too young to have a family! Even with my powers...let alone, what gives you the right to choose for me!" You broke her hand away backing away. You had to leave or else there'll be bigger cracks in the wall. 

"Y/n please, I never meant to hurt you. I just got confused that's all. You were so nice to me and after I lost Vis 2 times and lost my boys I just felt you comforted me. That's all." Wanda reached again grasping your bicep. You pulled away again this time hitting the wood casing around the frame with your elbow. The wood casing flew off behind you hitting the hallway floor.

"No! Don’t you dare touch me! All you cared about was yourself! Just because someone showed you comfort doesn't mean you let them cum inside you, Wanda! That's really fucked up! I'm sorry you lost your family but you can't just use me to play house!" You growled noticing your rage was becoming the better of you. Wanda through your eyes was becoming tiny. Her body language was making her small. Curling her fingers into the sleeves of her black cardigan, crossing her arm over to her elbow. She looked down at her bare feet letting out a shakey breath.

"I'm really sorry Y/n...I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so used to having people around me. That it feels weird to be by myself." Wanda's head was bowed letting her newly brown hair almost cover her head. A tiny tear ran down her blushed cheek wiping it away quickly.

All you saw was red. Not by Wanda's magic. But for some reason, you were enraged. How could you be this angry over something you fully did with Wanda 6 months ago? Maybe you do have a tiny bit of an anger problem. Little? In this case, that's an understatement. 

You huffed feeling the hot pressure on your chest cool down to your stomach. You think seeing Wanda so visibly upset may have broken your cross attitude. 

"Get used to it, Wanda." You had to storm off. If the conversation got any more heated; one of you was going to end up in a wall. And it was most likely going to be you. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe if I get some sleep and a good shower I can speak to her more clearly. 

You thought gliding to one of the newly furnished rooms. 

Each room had its own bathroom. Tony is a playboy so obviously the bathroom was soundproof. The entire compound was all technology so a press of a button and the bedroom could be soundproof. You didn't need that tonight. You wished there was a switch to soundproof your head. 

How could I snap like that? I haven't done that in years! What the hell was I thinking to begin with?! You felt like you could stand under the hot water for hours. It took two layers of body wash just to scrub away the dirt from your body and finally feel human. Maybe you were scrubbing off your anger with it in a sense. You had your little outbursts but this one almost made you black out. Your lofa scraped at your skin furiously, leaving little imprints everywhere. Your back flexed in the mirror examining your clean body. Your hips were women but your shoulders and torso were the shape of a man. You had average-sized breasts. They were nothing special, they were nice to look at but nothing that could turn any heads. Perhaps you could say they were bigger than average but you never noticed.

You got out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your waistbone, as you inhaled walking to the foot of your bed your v-line showed every breath you took. You thought if someone was to walk in it would be less surprising seeing you topless instead of bottomless. 

"Fuck...you got buff little one.." You gasped in fright hearing Wanda's quiet voice coming from the chair hidden next to the wall. Wanda's makeup was smeared all over her under her eyes. She was sniffling back what little tears she produced. She was crying heavily, using the sleeves of her cardigan. "What the fuck do you want now? Can't you see I'm busy? I'm not giving in to your mind games." You turned to face your back to her loosening the towel from your waist to dry your legs. You reached around putting on a pair of boxer briefs. You heard a creek come from the corner of your room knowing Wanda got up. Her bare feet were quiet on the hardwood but not quiet enough for you to hear. 

"No mind games Y/n. I-I...wanted to apologize...you were right. I need to start learning how to be on my own. I deserve to be alone. I shouldn't have let you do those things to me." She held back a cry making her eyes gloss over. 

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I was actually going to apologize to you. I don't know what came over me. I lost my temper too quickly. I haven't done that in years. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Your hands lifted Wanda's chin to look at you, letting all of her hair fall back behind her shoulders. She looked like a baby raccoon. It was cute but you felt awful that she was crying because of you. "I'm so sorry Wanda." Wanda's hands placed around your hips, sliding herself closer to your body. You pulled her in deeper holding her close. Her head rested on your shoulder letting her finish her cries. Your hands caressed her skull, intertwining with her locs. 

"It's okay..please, please stop crying. You're making me feel worse." You sat her down on the foot of the bed still massaging Wanda's head. She buried her face in your chest noticing her sobs being muffled into silent sniffles. One of your hands dropped placing it on her chest, directly on top of her heart. Her beats were rapid on the first touch, but once you dragged your fingertips along her skin she settled. Your other hand finally dropped rubbing her spine. She was frail in comparison to your body. Every muscle you flexed made it seem more apparent. 

"Thank you," she sniffled, using her sleeve to wipe away her stained makeup. "Thank you very much Y/n. I feel like sometimes I can just go off the handle." Wanda wiped another tear with her sleeve again, the tears glossed in her eyes and made her pupils sparkle as she looked so passionately into your eyes. 

"It's fine Wanda. We all go off the handle some days. I did it on you earlier. We just need to relax a little. The both of us." 

                             ╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳

You and Wanda laid down together in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence however, it felt somehow to you a healing silence. You two didn’t need to talk, that’s what got you two into shit before. Just cuddling together. Wanda laid her head on your bare chest. You threw on a random stupid movie on TV, it was one of those goofy movies that two dudes probably smoked a joint and started filming. You didn’t like it; Wanda found it comical. She’d laugh at the slightest action or joke. 15 minutes later however she was silent. You peered down checking up on her. Her eyes fluttered, she was falling asleep. You twitched which made her jump. 

“Jesus…what’s happened?” She whispered. I knew she fell asleep for a moment. You could hear it in her tone. Groggy and low. 

“Nothing sorry. My leg just spasmed. It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.” Your hand ran down Wanda's thigh. Her skin was soft just like you remembered. 

“Shut up, I wasn't sleeping.” She giggled rolling her head the other way. 

“Oh I'm sorry, I just saw the stucco on the ceiling coming apart so I thought you were snoring.” You joked.

“Fuck off!” She laughed sitting up on your lap. “I do not snore!” Her hands grasped a fist full of your bare breasts in either hand. It felt good to be handled again. As soon as her hands touched you that way, you instantly felt you were getting hard. It wasn't an embarrassment any longer. You had another one-night encounter after Wanda that made feel 10x better about your appearance. 

“No, that's just loudly humming in your sleep isn't it?” Your hands tightened around her hips slowly moving them back and forth. Wanda sucked air through her teeth letting a little gasp. "Ohh-stop!" She laughed biting her lower lip. "You want something else don't you detka?" Her dress grazed the front of your boxers, just to tease you. 

"Perhaps. This time, it's on my terms. This time." Your hands pushed down on Wanda's thighs rubbing your forming bludge on the fabric of her panties. Her brows raised, turning her cheeks into a rose colour. "Really? Would you still want to? Even after everything I did?..."  

“Of course.” You freed your hands from her thighs, swishing a strand of her hair away from her face looking into her emerald eyes. She giggled again looking down at your chest. “You’re tits are huge Y/n.” Wanda’s hands clutched my full chest. "I don't think I saw them last time." She squeezed each handful. You whinced with her nails digging into your skin. 

"Ha! Well, I hope you remember something else's size." You joked lightly tugging at your boxers. “Hmm..I think I definitely need a refresher.” Wanda tugged the hem of her dress; pulling it over her head as her arms whisked it to the floor. Wanda’s hands jerked at the elastic band around your hips. Your fairly large erection greeted both of you with a fair shock as it bounced its way to freedom. “Oh yes, I remember now.” Her tongue folded against the tops of her teeth. Your hands held a firm grip on either side of Wanda’s panties ripping them off. “Seems you don’t need this huh?” She giggled letting out a small whimper. “Fuck-…can we stop all this talking Y/n? I really need you.” Your fingers trailed along her mound going further in her slit. Her inner core was silk. Your finger slipped inside effortlessly. Her little sounds became more low. “Oh…g-god.” Her head dropped down making her lips lay on mine. "Stop fucking teasing me..." She groaned as her teeth bit the bottom of my lip. "Okay, you asked for it." You flipped Wanda onto her back. The bed's feet raised as the bed made a thump. "Did you want condoms?" 

"N-no. No, Wanda, I can pull out." You bent down locking your lips with hers again. "Haha..sure, sure you can Y/n." Wanda's eyes glowed red again briefly. "Fuck no more games. Just let me fuck you by myself." Your fingers slid between Wanda's folds before slipping your cock inside. She gasped curling her fingers into the sheets. Your hands planted on the mattress on either side of Wanda's head. She uncurled her fingers from the bedsheets, moving them around your wrists. Her breaths were choppy trying to get ahold. You thought she looked so beautiful underneath you, the way her skin naturally glowed, her pearly white smile chewing her bottom lip, the way she looked at you. Not in a loving way just yet, in an adoring way? A needing way. 

"Go on. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, sweetheart." Your hips dove in feeling her walls coating you effortlessly. Wanda’s whines grew deafening, her eyes did not stop turning shades of red. 

“Oh shit…y/n…uh-…” Wanda's head rolled back on the mattress. Dropping her jaw open. You began to thrust with a heavy pace. Becoming quick with every moan that escaped Wanda’s lips. The bed frame formed a squeaking noise with each pump into the brunette. Wanda’s leg had a hard time trying to stay afloat around your hips, slipping every movement you two shared. You stopped pulling out briefly. 

“What-..Y/n? Why did stop?! Continuă…” Wanda cried out allowing her hands to fall scratching your biceps. “I will, don't worry. Go flip on your stomach, on your knees and bend over.” Wanda sighed a sly smile flipping onto her knees, arching her back letting her chest lay on the mattress. She glanced over her shoulder with her hair covering her face. Your hand traced her temple softly, leading your fingers into the brunette's long strands. Grasping a fistful of Wanda’s hair. You peered down watching your cock twitch in anticipation with Wanda’s ass sway in the same feeling of suspense. Your other hand grasped Wanda’s thigh sliding your shaft back into her slick folds. 

“Oh…fuck-” Wanda sucked air through her teeth tilting her head down with your hand still tight on her hair. You did begin to thrust slowly as you once did, you began to ram yourself deeply inside the witch as though you were pushing through air. Wanda's hand gave out mid-pump landing on her chest. Her hands gripped the bedsheets as she tried to move her head to a more comfortable spot. "Fuck...you have such a nice ass." You twisted Wanda's hair around your knuckles applying a forceful tug. Her head raised leaving a spot of drool on the sheets. "Uh-huh!" Wanda's head cocked further to watch you. Your hand jerked the fistful of Wanda's hair pulling her hair as hard as you could muster without ripping all of her hair out entirely. Her body lifted off the mattress onto her knees. Her back pressed on your chest laying her head on your shoulder. "Oh god!...Shit!" Your wrist could not take it anymore, you let go of Wanda's hair allowing it to fall behind your shoulder. Your hand relaxed on Wanda's thigh attaching every finger around the softest part of her leg. Wanda's arm flung around your throat holding herself up. "Shit...I'm going to cum..." Wanda's moans were silent as she took a small breath. "Huh? Good baby...me too." You sighed out feeling yourself climbing higher and higher up to your point of no return. "Do it Y/n." Wanda used her knees bouncing her body against you. 

"Do what Wand?" You groaned in her ear smelling her sweet perfume sweat off onto you. "Cum in me...please..." Her cheek heated on yours as you felt her jaw lock open not letting another sound out. "Y-you sure? I don't know." You did not want to take that chance again, you had some rendezvous with a certain green bulky woman in Egypt, knowing you mastered your craft of pulling out. If you did not get her pregnant 6 months ago, hell, you couldn't do it again right? 

"F-fine...you want me to cum inside you huh?" You huffed tightening your grip on Wanda's thighs, the wooden bedframe continued to rattle. The frame began to bell out with your knees ready to cave. "Yes! Yes!" 

"Yes, what?" 

"Cum inside me Y/n! Fill me!" Wanda's voice shrieked out letting go of a low-toned moan. "Oh god! I'm cumming!" Wanda grasped firmly on your neck vibrating her entire body. Her eyes glow red tracing red mists around both of your bodies. "Fuck!" The pressure within you exploded, you could not think if it was you that came or if Wanda had some help to speed it up. You felt your cock throb spewing out your cum in the witch. She tried her best to make her body stay still, her thighs would not stop fidgeting. You bucked your knees forward to have Wanda fall on her stomach as you fell with her. The bedframe finally gave way as the mattress hit the floor. You both hit a thump, Wanda chuckled under your body softly as she took a quick breath. "Well, shit. How do you expect to explain this to Tony?" 

"We'll blame Kate," You sighed wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. "She got too drunk and we found her jumping on the bed. Agreed?" 

"Agreed detka. Let's get out of here. We can go to my room." You arose to see the bedposts still standing but the wood beams holding the bed just fell. "Well, this was a great welcome back." You stretched out your arms above your head hearing the cracks of your shoulder blades. "I'd say so." You stood up from the mattress whisking your boxers off the floor. 

"Y/n? You don't need those." Wanda sat up on her knees running her hands through her hair. You bent over as you picked Wanda up by her thighs and wrapped them around your waist. "Haha! I sure do. I don't want to scare Kate if we run into her." You took hefty strides over to the bedroom door, making your way down the hall to Wanda's room. Wanda draped her hands around your neck giving a sly little smile as she looked over her shoulder. Her wrist flicked a red mist, you witnessed the red mist run down the staircase doing nothing after it left the stairs. "There. She won't bug us. I put her to sleep for the night. Now, we can have more fun." 

"Good. Let's hope I don't break your bed this time." 

"Well, don't promise that. I'd love you to ruin me." Her finger traced along your jaw down your throat. "Ask, and you shall receive." 

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian, mentions of CSA/trafficking, mentions of death, emotional repression of childhood trauma, Bucky nightmares, bonding over trauma, some fluff and comfort.

Word Count: 2.6k

Previously On...: You literally ran into Bucky in the hallway outside your rooms and bond over a shared love of Middle Earth like the fucking nerds you are. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

A/N: I know this part introduces some heavy backstory for our Dear Reader. Please know writing this for her has been a therapeutic exercise for me in dealing with trauma from my own childhood, which, coincidentally, has been shoved back into the forefront of my life recently, forcing me to re-evaluate things I thought I had processed. Please know that I'm not approaching this subject flippantly, and her reactions/attitudes have been based on my own healing (or rather, suppressing) journey.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic @marcswife21

Your friendship with Bucky only continued to grow from there. There was something about him, his quiet demeanor, his gentle sense of humor, that made you feel an immediate connection with him, as if you'd known him for ages instead of just a few weeks. You weren't one to open up to others easily; it had taken you over a year to trust that Tony didn't have any ulterior motives for befriending you, but with Bucky, it was effortless, as if you couldn't have stopped it even if you wanted to.

About three weeks into his residency at the Tower, you were exposed to your first instance of one of Bucky's nightmares. He'd told you he frequently had them, but you'd yet to experience one firsthand. You hadn't been able to sleep-- your own losing battle with insomnia--, so you were coming back up from getting a late night snack in the communal kitchen when you heard the muffled shouting coming from behind his door. At first, you were going to ignore it, sure that it was his television, but you heard him utter a single, desperate "Pozhaluysta," the sound of it so heartbreaking that your breath caught in your lungs. Please.

Crossing over to Bucky's door, you knocked softly. "Bucky? It's Pocket. Are you okay? I heard shouting." You waited for an answer... but nothing. Taking a step closer, you put an ear to the door, holding your breath. You could make out the sound of frantic thrashing, cries of "Net!" and then a whimper. He sounded like he was in trouble, like he was in pain.

"FRIDAY," you said to the AI that ran the tower, "open the door."

"I'm sorry, Ms. (Y/L/N), but Sergeant Barnes has locked his door for the evening."

"For fucks' sake, FRIDAY," you muttered. "Enact override protocol 346.78C." There was no point in being the Avenger's resident computer genius if you couldn't hack their home automation system, was there? You heard the click of Bucky's door unlocking. Turning the handle and hoping that asking him for forgiveness was easier than asking for permission, you stepped inside.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once you were able to make out shapes in the gloom of the darkened suite, you saw that the layout was relatively similar to your own. You made your way over to the bed, expecting to see Bucky writhing on it in the midst of his nightmare, but it was empty, stripped of all bedding, just a bare mattress.

Then you heard him, thrashing from the space between the bed and the wall. You shuffled over to the other side and found the super soldier lying on the floor, tangled in his sheets. A thin sheen of sweat covered his naked torso, a pair of sweat pants riding low on his hips. His face was contorted in agony as his head twisted from side to side.

"Net! Net!" he cried out in Russian, fighting off invisible assailants, "Pozhaluysta, ne nado! Eto bol'no!" No! No! Please, no! It hurts!

It physically pained your heart to see him struggling like this, so you did the first thing that came to mind-- you threw yourself across him, wrapping your arms around his body and holding him in place, whispering back to him in Russian: "Ty v poryadke, ty v poryadke. Ty v bezopasnosti. Nikto ne mozhet prichinit' tebe vred." You're okay, you're okay. You're safe. No one can hurt you. "I've got you, Bucky. You're safe."

It was a long moment before you realized that his thrashing had stopped, his heartbeat had slowed, and he had wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him as if you were a lifeline.

You pulled back, allowing him to sit up.

"Pocket?" he asked, voice laced with confusion at seeing you, as though he wasn't sure if he was actually awake or not. "What are you doing here? And... were you speaking Russian, or was I dreaming?"

Suddenly shy, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, avoiding looking at him. Jesus. He literally just woken up to you throwing yourself on top of him. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered. "I was walking by, and it sounded like you were having a nightmare. I was worried, so I came in to check on you. I'll let you go back to sleep. Sorry." You got up to go, but his hand reached out and encircled your wrist, gently holding you in place.

"No," he murmured, pulling you back down to the floor next to him. "You were right, I was having a nightmare. I... I told you I get them, sometimes. Memories, really. Of things Hydra... did to me. Things they... things they made me do. Thank you," he looked up at you, catching your eyes through the darkness and holding your gaze. "Thank you for waking me up, for taking me out of it."

You gulped, the night becoming far more intimate than you could have anticipated when you went downstairs to grab a pint of ice cream earlier. You forced a smile. "Of course. What are friends for?"

"Are we?" he asked, his voice suddenly low, causing a pool of warmth to collect in the bottom of your stomach. "Friends?"

"Of course, Buck." You gave him a concerned look. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because I'm a monster, Pocket." Bucky lowered his head in his shame. "I'm a murderer and a monster."

"Oh, Bucky, no." You took his chin into your hands and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "Sweetie, no, you're not. You were a victim. You didn't consent to a single thing Hydra made you do. I know that it's going to take you a long time to believe that, but it's the truth. I promise you it is." He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Pocket, do you think..." he looked away from you, almost shyly, "do you think you could stay? After a nightmare, I... Well, I don't really like being alone."

"And Rogers isn’t one for midnight cuddling, huh?" you teased, a playful smile on your lips. You couldn't see it, but you could practically feel the sardonic look he was giving you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, I'll stay. But Bucky, I have one rule--"

"I'll keep my hand to myself and be a perfect gentleman, I promise," he said solemnly.

"Pfft," you scoffed. "I don't give a shit about that. Be as handsy as you want. No, my one rule is: I am not sleeping on the fucking floor." Bucky rewarded you with another one of his genuine laughs. You couldn't articulate how happy it made you feel knowing that you were the cause of that laughter.

"You got it," he said, as he stood up and began to move his sheets and pillows back to the bed. "Nothing but the best for you, doll."

Your insides glowed at this new nickname, and you were positive he was going to notice how his words made you light up in the dark. You busied yourself with helping him make up the bed before crawling under the covers. You tried not to be too obvious as you inhaled the scent of Bucky on the pillowcase. He smelled like cedar and leather and something unidentifiable that was just so quintessentially Bucky that it had become your favorite scent. You wanted to bottle it up and use it like a fabric spray so you'd always be surrounded by it. 

The bed dipped as Bucky got in, pulling the covers up over himself. "Thank you for this, Pocket," he whispered.

You turned onto your side to face him. "Of course. Any time, Bucky; I sincerely mean that. I know what it's like; I have them, too."

"You do?" You felt him reach for you in the dark, taking your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours. "You can tell me about them. If you want to."

You nodded, before realizing he probably couldn't see you, so you hummed an affirmative. There was something about the cover of night that made you feel brave, safe in opening up to Bucky; you found yourself wanting to tell him what kept you awake at night. You took a deep breath.

"I... didn't have the best childhood," you began, trying to keep your voice steady. "My father took off before I was old enough to even remember what he looked like, and my mother was always more interested in getting high than she was with being a parent. I was in and out of foster care for a while when I was a little girl." Buck squeezed your hand in sympathy and you continued: "Then she got this boyfriend, Darren." God, even now, the taste of his name on your tongue was like bitter bile. "For a little while, things were… better. Mom got her shit together enough that Social Services sent me back to live with her. I could almost believe that things were going to be okay. I mean, we even stayed in the same place for more than six months. I went to school regularly. It almost made me feel like a normal kid."

"What happened?" You barely heard Bucky's whispered question. You let out a harsh, disillusioned laugh.

"Puberty," you told him. "I turned eleven, got boobs and suddenly Darren's paying a lot more attention to me." You felt Bucky tense in the bed beside you. "Of course, that's entirely my fault, right?" you continued. "At least according to my mother. They started fighting more often, and she went back to the booze and meth. Stopped giving a shit about everything. Going to work, paying bills, making sure I went to school, whether or not I even ate. Only thing that mattered was where the next fix was going to come from." You took a breath. This next part was the hardest, and Tony was the only one you'd ever told the entire truth of the matter to.

"And with Mom incapacitated, boyfriend feels he's got free reign," Bucky supplied for you.

"Yeah," you swallowed, grateful you hadn't needed to actually say it, yourself.

"Pocket," Bucky began, "that's aw--"

"There's more," you admitted before he could continue. "Darren liked to bet on horses but, like absolutely everything else he ever did, he was complete shit at it. Ended up owing some horrible guys a lot of money. There was no way in hell he'd have been able to come up with it, so he... proposed a trade."

"God," Bucky breathed. "Oh, Pocket. I am so, so sorry."

"Thanks," you said, wishing that was the end of it, but knowing that you still weren't finished. "Darren realized he had a valuable commodity that a, uh, certain kind of man would pay good money for, and he wasn't just going to let such a lucrative income stream go to waste. He was an idiot, but he wasn't that dumb."

Next to you, Bucky sucked in a breath. You could practically feel him vibrating with anger for your younger self. "How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Seven years, more or less. When I turned 18, I grabbed every important document I could get my hands on, hightailed it to Boston and never looked back. But the memories, the nightmares? They still haunt me. Even after all this time, they’ve never fully gone away. So, you know, I get it."

There was silence for a moment, but then Bucky cleared his throat and asked: "Where is he now?"

"He's got himself a nice little plot of land in Pensacola," you said, a smile ghosting your face.

"So, he got off Scott-free." Bucky's voice was a low growl.

"Oh, I didn't say that, you said slyly. "That nice little plot is a pauper's grave at Pensacola Federal Prison Camp. Bastard got himself shanked in the slammer about ten years ago. Happiest day of my fucking life.

Bucky's laugh was low and dry. "What about your mom? Please tell me she got what she deserved, too."

You shifted slightly, propping your head up onto your hand. "Honestly, I have no idea what happened to her. The way she drank, she's probably long dead by now, and I could honestly not care less. That's why I have everyone call me Pocket." Bucky moved to mirror your position, using a pillow to prop himself up instead of an arm, so you were laying eye to eye, only a few inches separating your faces.

"Okay, explain to me how that makes sense," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm breath fanning pleasantly across your skin.

His touch was gentle and you found yourself subtly leaning into it. "My legal name is (Y/N)," you told him. "It was my mother's name, too. I know that 'Pocket's a ridiculous nickname, but when people call me that, it's like I'm someone else, someone new. I'm not that scared little girl that had all those horrible things happen to her. I'm someone I made myself into." Your voice had dropped to barely a whisper as you admitted it to him.

He studied you for a moment before speaking, voice low. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Pocket." 

You let out a small laugh. "I think we might need to make each other some matching friendship bracelets or something after all of this sharing," you told him. Bucky laughed with you, and the tension that had been hovering in the air lessened. You hadn't meant to get so deep into your personal history, or to get emotional, but sharing your story with Bucky brought you a sense of relief; at the very least, you'd helped take Bucky's mind off of his own nightmares, even if it had meant delving back into your own.

You both fell silent for a moment, and then Bucky spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "Pocket, can I ask you something? A favor?"

You looked at him, noticing how his eyes glinted in the dark. "Yeah, of course, Bucky. What's up?"

He swallowed audibly, his grip returning to your hand. "I don't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, so maybe this is too much to ask, but… do you think…  maybe we could… I don't know… be there for each other? You know, when we have nightmares? Just... hold each other, maybe?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly racing with implications. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting? Did he want to… cuddle with you? Your body was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were to him, of the heat that radiated off of his body. You licked your lips before answering, your voice coming out a little huskier than you intended. "I mean… I wouldn't be opposed to that. If you think it would help, then I'm all for it."

Bucky let out a small sigh of relief, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "Thank you, Pocket. You have no idea how much it means to me."

You leaned into his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the gentleness of it. "I think I might. I mean, I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know what it's like to feel scared and alone."

Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered, "Neither of us have to be alone anymore. We'll be here for each other."

And then, without another word, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and the warmth that radiated off of him made you feel safe, taken care of. You wrapped your arms around him in return, feeling a new sense of peace and security you hadn't known in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[hainethehero]

A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

[mgnifique-tion]

— human reaction.

summary || ``you’re starting to wonder if attending work after your day-off was a mistake.``

pairing: 2012!loki x gn!scientist!reader song recommendations: tesseract - cix (p.s. check out seunghun on build-up rn!) lowercase is intended… part: 1/?

— themes and warning/s: open-ended, enemies to potential lovers (for sure, they will be lovers soon), NOT a stand-alone one shot ;) wink wink, bossy loki, y/n being somewhat a dumb human being (heroism)

— a/n: hi! back with another loki au this march and guys, this is not a phase– IT’S NOT A PHASE, MOM! (corny? i graduated with that course in the university of the cornyology – i’m not even done with g12 lmfao wtf am i saying) anywho, i miss him. i literally rewatched the avengers for him and i'm not even active w the mcu anymore. i actually have a lot of other pending drafts from my main acc (@mgnifiqueyoo - follow me there :3) and so many unfinished IMPORTANT work from real life but like i thought of a line and now, i just HAVE to write it or it's outta my head so here u go. lmao. enjoy!

[ total words: 1.9k ]

support me on ko-fi! ☕

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“... oh my god.”

that was all you could mutter under your breath the moment you saw the rest of your co-workers controlled by that thing the alien held in his palm. you didn’t show up to work yesterday since you were just taking the final steps in finishing that project of yours.

what was the project? the hypercryogenic station.

and now, after a long day of ignoring your texts and calls, you ended up going to work, which happened to be a terrible idea. better yet, a horrible mistake. “... excuse me?” you took small steps, nearing the towering male as he just stood still, not facing you. all of your friends were doing his commands without any questions and you knew that clint barton would never do any of this!

but he did anyway. and you had to know why.

“what did you do with them?” you asked, demanding for answers as you heard him let out an almost inaudible chuckle only to be followed by a deep, low snicker. the alien slowly turned around and looked you straight in the eye, sweat pouring down his face with a sharp glare while his teeth ground against each other.

he was just terrifying, how else could you leave the facility without getting killed?

“oh, is that supposed to matter?” the alien mocked, later glancing at the staff he held before looking back at you, his smirk disappearing little by little. “... you must be horrified, aren’t you?”

of course you were, who wouldn’t be horrified when they see something like this? 

but before he could even get closer to you, he suddenly stumbled. that wasn’t something you expected since you assumed that he was a powerful being out of this world after seeing that wardrobe choice but he showed… weakness? it’s hard not to take note of it for future purposes.

you then cleared your throat and asked, “are you okay?”

but he said nothing in return, tense and trembling with every step. he had a maniacal look on his face as if he couldn’t control his actions; he seemed like he was enduring something that was hurting him inside.

and that got you thinking what else was happening with the man in front of you. “so, that’s a no?” 

“you’re the expert,” he said, “you’re the one blessed with knowledge over what it is that’s happening to me now.”

you frowned. you definitely had no idea what was going on with him and you were planning on leaving him to himself when he surprisingly grabbed your wrist. “heal me,” he pleaded, breathing in and out rapidly as you felt the burning heat that surrounded his palm, which led to that moment of realization.

“i… i don’t know how–,” you were then cut-off by him tilting his head to the project: the hypercryogenic station. if you ever had a scanner around you, his heat signature would be all over the place because of how high his temperature was. “but the station hasn’t even been tested yet and it could be dangerous for you and for all of us!”

the alien shook his head frantically, not letting any excuses get into his way. “if you don’t help me right now…” his breath hitched as the tip of the scepter was pointed at your chest, right at your heart. “you won’t be living for long.”

and that made you take so many steps, assisting him in the station as you closed the door. “you can’t be in there for more than a minute, it’s highly dangerous and i’m telling you, we haven’t done any tests yet–��

“just begin with the process.” his voice had gotten lower, hoarser with every moment that passed as you felt your heart race quicker. you knew that if you made a mistake, somebody like barton would kill you; there was no way out.

so the gears started running and you watched how the glass windows of the station had fogged up. your life’s work was being used by an unknown entity who took over the minds of your co-workers. your friends.

you couldn’t help but cry silently, biting your nails while you stood a meter away from the finished project. how could a five-year plan get wasted? to this unreadable, tyrannic humanoid? you can’t even breathe well.

and once the process was done, the station’s doors slid apart, creating a path for the man inside. when he stepped out of it, he didn’t even seem affected by it. all normal and human-like as if he had only bathed himself in some snow and not in an actual blizzard.

but colder than his skin was his gaze toward you, the scepter staring back at you as well, watching the way you took a few steps away from him.

“who are you?” you asked, your eyes glued to the scepter rather than his face, which caused him to get agitated.

in return, the tip of the scepter’s blade touched your chin, tilting your head up so that you could look at him. “i am loki of asgard,” he introduced with a deranged grin as you heard the way his breath hitched, overwhelmed and proud with how he spoke to you. 

that was enough to make you take another step back but his hand grabbed your arm like a lock, fastened so tightly that it made everything worse for you. “what did you do with them?” you tilted your head to the blue-eyed agents now circling the entire room, which made loki laugh.

he truly was out of his mind. 

“i simply used them for a greater purpose,” he said back, letting out another chuckle as the scepter gleamed in response. it was in his complete control… they were all under his control.

how in the world can you run from this?

“let them go.” “oh, we’re getting heroic now, aren’t we?”

he mocked you shamelessly as if it wasn’t your invention that saved him from his visible misery – whatever it was that hurt him earlier.

“... well, i did save you.” you just had to let a bit of sass come out because it was true. however, loki didn’t seem to be fond of that and had read that as entitlement rather than a reminder of who did save him.

nonetheless, he lowered his weapon and laughed once more. “your little saving was merely necessary, mortal. i could’ve used that machine myself.” of course, he disregarded that tiny, little favour you did for him and decided that it’d be best to not even give out a little thank you.

but then, again, what do you expect from an aspiring alien tyrant?

“but you couldn’t because i programmed it for my access only,” you continued the conversation, stating the truth right in front of him. that was your life’s work… you still couldn't believe that it was firstly used by some tall man with a scepter and emerald drapes. “besides, that thing you used wouldn't be here if it weren't for me.”

there was long silence once again… perhaps, even longer than moments of silence you had earlier when your eyes scanned over the rest of the place.

almost the entirety of the facility was led by loki. horrifyingly brainwashed by that scepter.

“fair enough,” he admitted, “but you wouldn’t be breathing if i hadn’t given you the chance.”

“... do you want me to thank you? for this?” “giving thanks means nothing. i need something much more than that.”

you crossed your arms, gulping as you still tried to make yourself seem as if you had the upper hand. an imaginary upper hand, perhaps? although you had put on that mask, loki knew you were afraid of what he could do to you. 

if this is only a preview of the damage he’s capable of causing, just how could you survive while being opposed to him?

“i could…” he trailed off, smirking to himself as he circled the station, his palm touching its painted and carved surface while the scepter glowed in his other hand. “hm… i could do the same to you. put your talent to use like the others.”

and you readied yourself, closing your eyes as your once crossed arms dropped to your sides, hopeless and left without a sign of help. “but you have not attacked me once,” he said with a tone of interest, diverting his attention from the opportunity of just controlling you like a mindless servant and rather feeling positive about a different, riskier path. “and you’ve saved me. willingly. no control needed.”

he walked towards you, breathing heavily and letting out a low chuckle. “do you know what gift you have, dr. l/n?” he questioned, expecting you to know the answer as he tilted your head upwards again with the end of the scepter. one wrong push and you could bleed to death; he was being careful with you still.

after all, you were a great addition to his plans.

“humanity, l/n.” he proudly stated, now lowering his weapon as your heart raced. never did you fear death until now, especially when your life would fade to grey without the knowledge of what’ll happen next. to the world and the people around you. “you’ve got so much humanity in you that your best choice was to save a dying god. it’s foolish, l/n. how could you be so brilliant but foolish?–”

“are you done?” you had enough of it, still staring at one corner as you saw how your friend’s eyes still gleamed in blue, manipulated by the god standing right in front of you while the remaining lights of the facility shone over his prepped quiver, ready to attack whenever, however.

and of course, the god of mischief was indeed offended by that. “... you’re so brave, it’s idiotic.” he laughed, shaking his head as if you both had been joking with one another and you felt the heat rush up your head; you didn’t want this. you just wanted your friends to be set free – your world to be set free from this being. 

“what do you desire in return?” “for you to stop whatever you’re planning here, my lord.”

even though loki knew you were being sarcastic, he just admired the way it rolled off your tongue. “you do know that does not equate to what you’ve done for me and you might want to do something more for me if you’d want that to happen,” he said, denying your request with a snicker. “but of course, i still appreciated your service earlier so how about i offer you something else?”

he’s cheating, you thought.

“in exchange of your little saving, it’ll be guaranteed that not one of us would lay a finger on you…” he paused, hiding the scepter behind his back as you tilted your head to the side. were you even hearing this correctly? that was too low. “and you would be shielded from any harm as well.”

but can you do anything about it? no. “is that good enough for you, my little savior?”

you had to think about it for longer than a second. why only a second, you may ask? well, does it look like you still have enough time to decide perfectly? the world is at stake; you had to give an answer now or worse destruction could happen.

“fine,” you uttered, firmly extending your hand towards him as he only stared back at your empty, shaking palm. “i’ll do whatever it takes to free this world from you.”

“that’s laughable.” “we’ll see, your majesty.”

[ro-is-struggling]

Goodmorning Ro! I wanna send in a request for your event but don't have much in the way of specifics so I hope that's alright? Besides, I don't remember that episode and would love to see where you take it if you take it. Anyway hope you have a good day!

Prompt: 9 (Part 1)

Character: Dr. Strange (Character B)

Genre: Comedy/Fluff/Light Smut(if inclined)

OMG I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST IT! Life got in the way and I had to stop writing for a while, but I'm back now! Thank you for your patience and I hope this silly little fic finds you somehow after all this time anon💕

I loved writing this one! I tried my best to combine the above-mentioned genres as best as possible, but idk, I hope I did a good job. I feel like I wanted to make it more of a crack fic at the start but then I got carried away and ended up being more spicy. I literally had to stop myself from turning this into a full on smut lol I hope you like it anyways!

THE CALL || STEPHEN STRANGE X READER

Summary: During a girls night you are challenged to leave a dirty message for Stephen Strange as part of a game of truth or dare. You accept without much thought, the alcohol in your system stopping you from realizing that your relationship would never be the same after that.

Warnings: suggestive tones, alcohol consumption, attempt at humor, teasing, a bit of dirty talk, name calling (whore) implied smut

English is not my first language

Word count: 4300

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

The girls' night was Wanda's idea. After the stressful mission you had been through, hanging out together to relax and gossip was exactly what you needed to recover. Nat and you were a little tired, but eventually gave in after Wanda convinced Hope and Sharon, who happened to be in the avengers' compound when you arrived, too. So you all changed into your comfiest pajamas and, after kicking all the men out of the living room, you all settled down on the couch with a cheesy rom-com playing in the background as you chatted.

The tiredness and tension disappeared from your body as you laughed with your friends, joking and listening to their love problems. It was nice to switch off your brain every now and then and act like you were normal people, worrying about trivial things instead of thinking about the problems affecting the world. It kept you sane and restored your faith in humanity. There was nothing that improved your mood like hanging out with your friends just eating junk food and talking about stupid things.

You were having a good time, drowning in pizza and ice cream while laughing, but when Natasha started mixing drinks things started to go off the rails. With the alcohol levels in everyone's blood rising the conversation became increasingly more chaotic and wild, confessing embarrassing secrets and constantly telling one another how much you loved each other. It wasn't long before someone suggested playing truth or dare and everyone agreed, far too drunk to think about the consequences.

The first few rounds were uneventful, consisting mostly of silly truths and the occasional simple dare such as taking a shot or doing something to annoy one of their teammates. However, as the rounds progressed and the alcohol got into your systems, the game got out of control. And when your turn came you regretted your choice of dare as soon as the words left Natasha's mouth.

"I dare you to send Strange a dirty voicemail." The redhead looked at you with a mischievous smile. Her arched eyebrow challenged you, wondering if you would even dare to accept her proposal. She knew how you felt about Stephen, she'd had to listen to you ramble on multiple times about him and his perfect face that looked like it had been carved by the angels themselves. She knew you liked him, but she also knew you were never going to make the first move. So she thought the best thing to do was to give you a little push —well, it seemed small in her alcoholized mind.

"No way!" you groaned, refusing to participate in the game. You weren't drunk enough to ignore that voice in your mind telling you that this was a bad idea. 

"You can't refuse!" Wanda interjected. "That's not how it works!"

"If you do, you'll have to drink from the mystery cocktail and you don't really want to do that, trust me." Sharon said, remembering the horrible taste of the mystery drink Natasha had prepared as punishment for chickens who didn't complete the dares. She didn't know what the fuck she'd put in there, but it tasted awful.

"Fine!" You gave in to peer pressure. "But it'll be anonymous!" The last thing you needed at that moment was to have to face the consequences of such actions. What Natasha didn't seem to want to understand was that your hesitation to confess to Stephen how you felt about him didn't just come from a place of fear of rejection, it was much more complicated than that. You could handle rejection, what you couldn't handle was continuing to work with him after such humiliation. Stephen was an avenger, so before you did anything you had to consider how it might affect the team.

"That's fine by me!" Nat aceptó y las demás chicas la siguieron.

"But I'm going to need a drink before I do this."

You took a sip of the strongest drink on the table, feeling the sting of the alcohol as it went down your throat. You needed a lot of courage to do what you were about to do, to lower your inhibitions to the point of losing your sense of shame and self-control. You weren't as intoxicated as you would have liked to be —you were definitely going to remember this in the morning—, but you figured it was for the best. You still needed to be able to speak clearly and form coherent sentences, two things that would be impossible if you kept drinking. So you rested your now empty glass on the table and picked up your phone, ready to get it over with for good.

"It has to be good!" You heard Wanda say as your fingers awkwardly searched your contacts for Stephen's number, making sure to set your number to private and encrypt it before doing anything so he couldn't trace the message back to you. "You have to talk like you mean it."

"Yeah! If he doesn't get a hard on after listening to your voice then you failed the dare." Natasha added and you threw one of the couch cushions in her face.

"That doesn't make any sense! You can't possibly know the effects it might have on him." You complained, pointing out your friends' exaggeration. "He might not even open it."

"Oh I'll know," Wanda assured you, giving you one of those mischievous smiles that sometimes made you question her mental sanity. 

"Whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Any other requests before I do this? It's now or never." The girls shook their heads, giving you the green light to proceed. You took a moment to mentally prepare yourself, clearing your throat and blurting out a few words as you searched for a new tone of voice that sounded sultry yet different enough from your normal voice to throw Stephen off. 

Before tapping on his contact on your phone you tried to focus on him and how he made you feel. His cocky smile was the first thing that came to your mind, the one he gave you every time his plans worked out after you questioned them. That smile drove you crazy. His lips in general drove you crazy. You spent more time than you'd like to admit imagining what it would be like to feel his kisses on your skin, caressing every inch of your body. You wondered if his tongue was as skilled at pronouncing incantations as it was at bringing pleasure to a woman. The mere image of his face buried between your legs, devouring you like a starving man was enough to make your center drip with need. 

His hands were the next thing that popped into your mind, the way they moved in the air with precision each time he casted a spell. You loved watching him work, you got completely lost in your thoughts as you silently admired him, imagining how his hands would feel on your body, touching each curve with delicate sensuality. You were convinced that he really knew what to do with his hands to have a girl screaming his name in seconds, those skillful fingers of his were good for more than magic and you were dying to feel them exploring the deepest parts of your being.

Once you let your imagination run wild it was easy to find the right words to complete your dare. You didn't even have to think too hard about keeping a different voice, the low, sensual tone came naturally to you as you left a message for Stephen detailing everything you wanted to do to him —and everything you wanted him to do to you. You tried to control yourself since your friends were in the room with you, carefully choosing your words so as not to reveal so much about your true fantasies. But you made sure he knew how attractive you found him and how you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. 

The moment you hung up, all the girls burst into hysterical laughter, theorizing about what Stephen's reaction would be when he heard your message in the morning. You were buzzing with euphoria, too intoxicated to feel embarrassed, so you laughed with them. Your confused mind wasn't able to comprehend that you were the one who would have to face the consequences of your little game. That was a problem for the Y/N of the future and at that moment the next morning seemed to be far in the future. All that mattered to you at that moment was to relax and enjoy the evening, laughing with your friends. And that was exactly what you did until at some point you fell asleep on the living room couch.

When you woke up in the morning you regretted all the decisions you had made the day before, from accepting the first drop of alcohol to sleeping on the couch. Now not only did you have a headache that barely let you think, but also your whole body felt stiff due to the awful position in which you had slept on the couch. You grunted as soon as you felt Tony's voice, no doubt speaking louder than necessary to annoy you as he paced around the kitchen preparing breakfast. You hated the open concept building design more than ever at that moment, missing walls that separated the living room and sheltered you from the sound.

"I hate you." You winced when he came over to ask if you were going to have breakfast. He sounded so cheerful and amused while you were miserable that it made you angry. Your head was pounding and your stomach was upset. However, the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen forced you to get up, reluctantly dragging yourself into the kitchen where Nat, Wanda and Sharon greeted you with tired looks. 

"Seems like you ladies had quite a night." Steve said with a smile, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down next to you. His hair was still wet from the shower, probably because he had gotten up early to go for a run like he did every morning. You never really cared about that, but this time you couldn't help but look at him like he was crazy for daring to do such a thing. The very idea of moving at a speed faster than a zombie made you want to vomit.

"Remind me to never drink again." You grumbled, taking one of the pills Nat had passed you. Sharon agreed with you, complaining about how the world still seemed to be spinning around her.

"What the hell did you put in that drink?" She asked Natasha, but the redhead just laughed. 

"Shhh, can you guys stay quiet? My head is killing me." Wanda interjected, raising her head to give everyone a pleading look before plopping back down on the marble of the island. 

Everyone's condition improved considerably after eating a lot of greasy food and drinking a lot of water. It also helped that the medicine kicked in, although you were still feeling tired and slightly sore. When you regained some of your good mood and will to live you went back to the living room, settling down on the couch with a cup of hot coffee in the hopes of watching the tv until your energies were recharged. However, your plans were ruined when you discovered that someone was already there. And not just anyone, but Stephen Strange, who was talking to Tony while holding his phone in his hand. 

Memories of the night before came back to you in a series of flashes that replayed in your mind like a movie. You stared in horror at the men in front of you, wondering if Stephen had gotten your message yet. You sat as far away from them as possible, focusing on your coffee as you tried to listen to their conversation. Your strategy was to be discrete and play dumb if their eyes at any point caught on you, but when you saw Natasha walk into the living room you knew your plan was out the window.

"What are you guys talking about?" The redhead interrupted them, "Expecting an important phone call?" She added, looking at the phone in Stephen's hands with a raised eyebrow. 

"Our favorite wizard here got a spicy message from an encrypted number and he needs my help to figure out who this mystery person is" Tony explained with amusement in his voice and Stephen gave him a murderous look.

"Thanks for the discretion, Tony."

"Spicy how?" Natasha pressed the issue to see if she could get Stephen to give more details, especially about how that message had made him feel. 

"Oh you have to hear it, this girl did not hold back." Tony said and you choked on the coffee you were drinking. He had heard it! "She was really grateful to him for saving the world and wanted to give something back to him, if you know what I mean."

"We all know what you mean, Stark. You're not very subtle." Stephen rolled his eyes. "And give me that back." He snatched the phone out of her hands before she could pass it to Natasha to listen to the message. "Can you help me or not?"

"Why do you want to know who this person is?" Nat teased, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "You really liked it, huh?"

"No! I just... I'm concerned it might be a stalking situation so I want to know who this person is." Stephen tried so hard to sound confident, but even you were able to notice the hesitation in his voice. He was making excuses. He was at least intrigued by the message and that made you feel a strange sense of pride. Even though you were a little drunk, you had managed to get his attention with your words and your sensual voice. Sure, he didn't know it was you, but that didn't matter to you at the moment, the confidence slowly building in your system didn't let you think about it.

"Hey! No one is judging here." Tony spoke up. "If I were in your place I would like to know who this mystery person is too."

Stephen let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. "Just let me know when you get something."

He stormed off, leaving you with a million unanswered questions and a strange feeling in your stomach. Tony ran after him and Natasha took advantage of the fact that you were alone to give you a gentle push to get your attention. You moved your gaze from the door through which he had disappeared to look up at your friend, who was looking at you with a playful smile.

"He's crazy about you." She stated but you downplayed it, saying he was only interested because he didn't know it was you talking on the other end of the line. However, you couldn't help but feel a little flame burning inside you. You felt confident and for the first time since you had met Stephen you felt you had a chance with him.

The next time you saw Stephen was during an Avengers meeting to discuss a possible mission. You barely paid attention to what Steve was saying, too distracted by the perfect profile of Stephen sitting next to you. The sunlight coming through the large windows illuminated his face in a special way, giving him an ethereal aura that made it impossible for you to look away from him and those ridiculously sharp cheek bones he had. It was torture to have him so close looking like a Greek god and not being able to do anything about it. Your new found confidence hated it. It took all your power to control your urges, striving to calm your wild fantasies at least until Steve let you out of there. 

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't realize the meeting was over until you saw the other team members disappearing behind the door. Soon it was just you and Stephen in the large conference room. You gave him a quick glance and noticed that he was looking at his phone once again. You wondered then if he was waiting for another message from you, if he was as crazy about that mysterious voice on the other end of the line as he seemed to be. It was pretty hard to contain your urges at that moment.

"Any new leads on your mystery person case?" your voice alerted Stephen, who looked up from his phone to rest his gaze on you.

"No, Stark hasn't called me yet."

"Is that what you were checking on your phone while Steve talked?" You asked him, getting up from your seat to move closer to him, settling against the table right in front of his chair. "If Stark had called with any leads?"

There was something in your tone of voice that alerted Stephen, a sensual undertone he had never heard in you before and it made him wonder what you were getting at. He had felt your eyes on him throughout the meeting, he always did, but for some reason this time it felt different.

"Why do you care so much?" He countered, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm just curious as to what has you so distracted lately." You faked innocence, shrugging your shoulders. "Was it really that good?"

"Excuse me?" Stephen was surprised by your sudden audacity, though he couldn't say he didn't find it intriguing. 

"It seems to me that you're desperate to hear that voice again." You leaned closer to him, lowering your head to be at his level. Your eyes were locked on his, admiring the dark shadow in the icy blue of his orbs. He held your gaze as the tension in the air intensified, curious to discover what your next words would be.

"I can help you with that," you added, using the same low, sultry tone you had used in the message. "Even better, I can show you just how hot I think you are... how desperate I am to feel your hands all over my body, using your powers to restrain me and do whatever you want with me." 

If your voice hadn't already given you away, repeating the words you had said to him in the message definitely had. His eyes grew wide, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. You had never seen Stephen so perplexed and you had to admit that it felt good to be the cause of that. You were used to it always being the other way around. You used to be the one who was speechless every time he gave you a smile, it was nice to have the power for once.

Stephen was not an easy man to silence, even in the strangest or most stressful situations, he always found something to say. But now he was speechless, looking at you in complete astonishment as he tried to process the situation. It wasn't just discovering that you were the mysterious person he was looking for that threw him off, but also the confidence you exuded. He had never seen you act that way before, though he would be lying if he said he didn't like it. He couldn't stop his mind from running wild, imagining every detail of the message that occupied his thoughts but now with you. Never would he have imagined that behind your innocent look and shy attitude was an imagination as dirty as his.

"I can give you what you want, all you have to do is ask." Your warm breath would collide against her earlobe when you spoke, giving her goose bumps. Your perfume assaulted his nostrils with every breath he took, intoxicating his entire system with your scent. He felt dizzy, his mind clouded with desire and anticipation having trouble concentrating. 

However, when you turned away from him, walking towards the door to finally get out of there, his brain snapped out of it. Raising his hand in the air, he conjured a kind of glowing lace made of pure energy that closed over your wrist, stopping you on your feet. With a gentle push he managed to turn you around to face him as he used his other hand to close the door to the room and pull down all the blinds with a simple flick of his wrist.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet. We're just getting started." Stephen said to you with an arched eyebrow. You noticed a hunger in his eyes you had never seen before, the cool blue of his orbs almost completely consumed by the black in his dilated pupils. It ignited a flame inside you, a warmth spreading through your stomach as you carefully analyzed Stephen's body language, trying to predict his next move. All your arrogance and confidence disappeared under his intense gaze. You were like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in place waiting for his next reaction.

All he had to do was pull the glowing leash and you were forced to move closer to him once again. You would have lost your balance had it not been for his grip on your waist, successfully trapping you between his body and the edge of the table. You had nowhere to run, though you really didn't want to.  

"Who would have thought that behind that cute and innocent act there was such a dirty whore, desperate to be seen?" Stephen's voice was condescending, mocking, as his cold blue eyes pierced into yours. It made you feel small and insignificant in the face of his imposing figure, your cheeks heating with the blood that was quickly pooling there from the embarrassment of being so exposed. He finally knew the truth, you were a dirty whore desperate for his touch. 

"I never would have guessed you were the voice on the message saying those dirty things." He was barely touching you —his fingers trailing up your arms to your shoulders, following the line of your collarbones before descending through the space between your breasts—, but that was enough to quicken your breathing. And every time you inhaled, you breathed in his intoxicating scent, a mixture of his cologne and the aroma of his own essence that made your knees weak.

"I was hoping it was you. The first time I heard those words I closed my eyes and imagined you acting out those fantasies. I got so hard just imagining it." As if to emphasize his words, Stephen pressed his hips against you, letting you feel the bulge beginning to grow in his pants. You couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips, a pathetic whimper that put a smile on Stephen's lips. 

He was enjoying the growing anticipation, having fun with your suffering. He was torturing you as retribution for your mysterious little message that had had him going crazy all this time, forcing you to experience the same desperation he did, using only his voice to arouse you. You hated it and loved it at the same time.

"You have no idea how much I wanted it to be you...but then I thought it could never be, you're a good girl and good girls don't use that vulgar language." You looked down, unable to hold eye contact with him any longer as you felt the embarrassment taking hold of you. But Stephen didn't let you off that easily, taking your chin in his hand to force you to look at him. "Tell me, were you really so desperate for my attention to leave that message? Were you so desperate for me that you pushed aside your good girl attitude and manners to expose the whore you hide inside you?" 

His voice was a husky whisper against your ear, his lips almost brushing against sensitive skin seductively. The ghost of his touch was driving you crazy and his dirty words traveled straight to your core, that throbbed desperate for attention. You could feel his presence, the warmth of his body against yours, his imposing gaze, the subtle caresses of his fingers on your skin, but it wasn't enough. You needed more to satiate your need for him, much more.

"Yes," you managed to mumble. Your voice sounded much more pathetic and desperate than you expected, but that didn't really matter. On the contrary, Stephen seemed to enjoy it. "I'm tired of hiding it, I need you Stephen... I need to feel your touch." You were practically begging him, asking him to have mercy on you and give you something to calm the flames burning inside you. But he just laughed. His warm breath hit the sensitive skin of your neck, giving you goosebumps. Your hands ran up his chest, determined to get for yourself what you needed as he refused to give it to you. If he wanted to torture you, it was only fair that you retaliated. Two could play that game.

But before you could go much further, Stephen pulled your hands away from his body, binding them behind your back with the same magical bond he had used to draw you to him. It was tight around your wrists, but not too tight, just enough to make sure you couldn't move easily. He wanted control.

"Oh, I'm going to give you what you so desperately want, don't worry about it, darling." He murmured against your lips, brushing them with every word he spoke. "But first I have to teach you a lesson... you see, you have to be more careful about what you wish for, because it can become real."

[mymelodymia]

i'm still here // dad!thor odinson x daughter!reader

!!!ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!

Summary: your brought back after 5 years...

Warnings: literally a single cuss word from rocket, fear of being alone, crying, character death mentioned, overall fluff,

Age: 16

A/N: hope yall like this one too 🥰

+•°+*°•+pt 1 here+•°+*°•+

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You felt weightless, like you were floating. You gained physical consciousness soon after this. You were laying flat on your back on the forest floor, arms curled up as if you were trying to hold something.

You sat up and looked around to see more avengers also confused. You looked around and realized, your dad wasn't there like he was before you passed out.

"Dad?" You whimpered out, trying to find him. You whipped your head around as you heard sparkling behind you.

"Who the h3ll are you?" Rabbit asked (srry i love calling him that)

"Come on its been five years, we...the avengers need you" strange told you all. You blinked at him a few times in confusion, "its been how long!?" You shouted, eyes wide.

Strange helped you up and you all fell into the portal.

You had just started fighting the alien dogs. Not knowing what to do. You soon found yourself outnumbered by these dogs. You were trying to get them away but it did nothing.

You were pinned on the ground, they kept trying to get to you but tony flew by and blasted them for you. "Thanks!" You yelled at him, he nodded in response before flying off to the distance.

You stood up to brush yourself off, and your father was standing a few feet away from you, just staring in shock.

You gasped as you made eye contact with him, tears welled up in his eyes.

He pulled you Into a strong hug quickly. He squeezed you so hard you thought you might d!e.

He pulled away to look at your face, he let out a sad chuckle as he looked at you, innocently looking back up at him.

He held you to his chest as he sobbed. Yes, your father always acted like nothing and no one could make him cry, or even make him emotional. But when it came to you, he was a verryyy delicate flower.

"Im still here." He whispered to you.

He had lost everyone in his life, his mother, his father, his brother, his best friend, his lover, and the one person he couldn't let go of, You. But you, unlike anyone, came back to him. And healed his broken heart. He was the only person you had as well, after losing your uncle and watching it happen before your eyes hurt like no other.

Another space dog ran at you two and tony, once again, swept past and blasted it. "Second time! Not helping you anymore" he quickly spoke before flying away.

"We should help" you told thor. "Yes, we should" he smiled sadly, finally having something in life.

You both continued to fight together. You looked to your left after a while, to see tony, on his knees, with the stones.

Tony acted like your father when thor wasn't around, he was also your best-est friend, other then thor. Even once accidentally calling him dad. And though he would always deny it, he saw you as his daughter.

You gasped and covered your mouth as he said the words, "i.... am.. iron man" and snapped. You ran over to him immediately, Peter got to him before you. He sobbed out a small, pained "tony..." you held him as he cried.

You were the first one to Kneel before tony, a helpless tiny human, had saved the universe on his own. Everyone followed your actions.

You sobbed for days after this tragic event, your dad had to hold you up on his funeral because you were crying so much.

"Im still here" thor muttered to you as he held you close too him. It took a while to get over but eventually, it happened.

You found out through pepper that you and peter were the god parents for morgan 😭 thor was with every step of your healing, he thought leaving your side was a bad idea. Or he just missed you over the years lol.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover // @carellmcu

[bulbabutt]

ok. elephant in the room or shit i thought about a while ago but didnt post, my going theory on the rise cancellation which idk if its a theory more-so as reading the room and putting the pieces together.

it seems like playmates fault to me on account of the toys being shit and then cancelled outright. like waves of toys ready to go in 2019, none saw the light of day.

obvs a lot of them were shit, not the point. the point being theres up to 6 waves of toys on the table at 2019 toy fair, only 1 and 2 were made. compare to the last toyfair showing the mutant mayhem toys.

playmates made both of these era of toys. do you see how much more effort went into one than the other. you can say movies are more popular blah blah blah. but playmates has made ALL tmnt toys since they ever existed, and comparing the rise toys to even the previous shows toys it seems obvious where they put the money.

anyway my theory here is playmates got told (or given or offered or whatever) mutant mayhem. they immediately went. oh. yeah this will make us money. lets start prepping moulds for this now, lets get ready to sell a shit ton of different stuff. and they just left all those rise things on the cutting room floor. they didnt tell anyone on the team they were gonna do that. they didnt say "yeah it doesnt matter what you do cuz we have this NEW thing coming" they just abandoned it. they pretended theyd give it a chance to come back if their movie went well just to appease them and us, cuz they saw more money elsewhere.

the dumb shit about that is like imagine saying that about like. batman or the avengers or something. yeah we wont make this cartoon anymore cuz we have a theatrical movie coming in 3 years. like. you can have more than one iteration YOU DID IT WITH 12.

truly this is nothing against mutant mayhem by all accounts it looks amazing, my point here is that im sick of playmates fucking over each tv show with their stupid hunks of plastic. it has in fact happened each time, rise was just faster

87 was good, then there were the 90s movies that got popular enough that the show needed to be closer in style to.

03 was good, then it got dark, told to be more fun (cuz kids like ben 10 now) so they made fast forward, which was also good but in its own way, but then tmnt 2007 came out and playmates literally said "nope nope, we want to save on moulds so change your show to look like this movie" then 07 didnt go well cuz warner bros didnt fucking market it (what i heard from a podcast w nolan north was that they were super preoccupied marketing the shit out of 300 at the time. which. ok very weird choice for kids toys)

then we have 2012 after nick buys the franchise. and 12 has the weird tonal dissonance of dark stuff and kid stuff, with the most "designed to be toys" characters in it, clearly messing w things in the show itself while it was going.

then bayverse comes out along side it and once its over we get rise, where the designs clearly take inspiration from that movie (donnie and raph specifically)

then mutant mayhem is announced and rise just. fades out of existence. planned seasons cut and cancelled. planned toys disappear.

anyway. none of those shows are bad. none of the movies that come out along side them are bad. its just the dumbassery of like. not being allowed more than one iteration at a time, and its nOT on account of popularity or brand synchronizing like youd think, its literally to not have to make as many DIFFERENT SHAPED hunks of plastic! its fucking stupid. rise's downfall seems to be POOR FUCKING PLANNING on playmates part for THEIR shitty toys and then also being cheap/unwilling to have TWO DIFFERENT KINDS OF TOYS AT ONCE (proof being the 03/07 thing)

anyway. thats my theory or whatever that fills me with rage. i hate playmates and i think its insane that the downfall of rise literally comes down to two stupid companies and their desire to sell garbage to children.

[pauking5]

Addicting Taste ~ Chapter 1 ~

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: Enishi Yukishiro was on a mission to execute his piece de la resistance. A plan to avenge his beloved sister. Until you showed up, rattling open the icy closed gates of his heart. Will you be a part of his downfall or will you try to save him?

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, slow burn, a lot of fluff (later chapters), occasional smut, angst

Words: 3k +

A/N: I couldn’t hold back anymore and had to make a fic for Enishi. It won’t exactly follow the Rurouni Kenshin timeline for now but it will later develop into it. This is the first chapter in the series with more chapters coming. It is a reader insert as I couldn’t help but indulge myself in it completely. Powered by Mackenyu’s outstanding portrayal of Enishi’s character in Rurouni Kenshin: The Final, I hereby present you a story ripped from the figments of my mind. I hope you’ll love their story as much as I do. Enjoy lovelies, Paula.

Also thank you @eureka-its-zico for supporting me with this and getting me writing again 🫶

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Bonus Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

“Just how stupid are you?”

A loud smack echoed in the room.

“You thought you could just get away with it?”

Another heavy punch collided with his face making him drop to his knees.

“You’re a fool.”

An uppercut dug under his chin throwing him backwards. The force of the blow made blood pool in his mouth and he spat it out through clenched teeth. The man standing tall before him left his face full of cuts and bruises. But that was the least of Enishi’s worries right now.

Many months were spent tracking down the biggest shipment of weapons set to leave Shanghai for Kanagawa. Enishi’s men were supposed to rob the storage by the docks tonight before the ship set sail in the morning. But it turned out to be a harder task than it was intended to be.

The mission encountered several problems and it was nothing short of a total fail. It was also what led to his current position with his hands tied roughly behind his back, on the floor of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

A few hours ago

“These dumplings are amazing,” you sighed happily while munching on three baozi dumplings at once.

The lady vendor grimaced at your manners. You were practically inhaling the soft dough in your hands like a grizzly bear. Leftover crumbs were decorating the edges of your lips. You couldn’t help but forget all about etiquette when the food literally melted in your mouth.

A little boy was walking by with his mother when he caught sight of the dumpling cart. He stopped to look at the steaming dumplings in awe and adoration. But when he saw the way you were devouring the small pastry his face turned to pure disgust.

You were getting slightly annoyed by his staring, so you shot the little boy a threatening look and he started crying, running off somewhere in the depths of the street. His mother regarded you with a condescending look and followed after her child.

“Can you leave before you scare all my clients away?” said the vendor lady, irritated with the fact that you’ve been hogging her cart for the past half an hour.

“Listen lady. I could buy your whole cart if I wanted to. Just let me enjoy these,” you said with your mouth full.

“I’ll be the one leaving then. You might spoil my dough from raising if I stay here any longer,” she said as she started to put away the steaming buns away and gathered all her tools.

“Wait! You can’t just leave.” But by the time you yelled after her she was already gone. There went your only meal for the day. At least it was a nice filling one to last you some time. You patted your stomach in a comforting manner and sighed, turning to go on your own way.

The crisp air of mid-October made its presence known as a breeze blew against the sleeves of your dress making them flutter. Your attire was nothing short of inappropriate for the lingering cold season. The chilly weather made it harder to do any jobs and you weren’t requested as much either. You never knew where your next meal would be coming from most of the time, so you powered through with anything you could find. Though your money was running out you always made sure to keep some aside for your snack cravings.

The once bustling street turned awfully quiet. It was the norm in this part of the city. Vendors were quickly packed away and activity was slowly coming to a halt in the wake of the coming night. Any normal person in these parts would know that being on the streets when the last flicker of daylight disappears wasn’t safe.

Who would want to be out in the dark with the Shanghai mafia having a full blown war with the commander in chief on the streets until the early hours of dawn?

Clutching the rest of your dumplings closer, you made your way down the narrow pathways circling the outskirts of the city. The place you resided in for the time being was just a street down from the docks. It was a modest room at the top of an abandoned jewelry shop, furnished with a desk and a small wardrobe. It was not the comfiest nor the safest place in the world, but it provided a space to roll your futon for the night.

The buns you bought were all different flavours with all kinds of fillings you haven’t tried before. Just thinking of taste testing all of them made your mouth water.

Whilst getting lost in your pastry daydreams, you were shaken back to earth by persistent yelling. As you were making your way further down to the docks, more agitated shouting ensued. The growing commotion piqued your curiosity. It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look, right? It was in the way anyway.

Inching closer to the edge of the docks entrance you hid behind an abandoned fishing boat supported by empty crates. Tucking your petite form well enough so you wouldn’t be spotted, you looked over it to see what was going on.

Moving your eyes around you counted about twenty masked men. They were frantically rushing in and out of the storage holding cases filled with… guns?

As more of them came out you realised it wasn’t just guns. Long and short range artillery, fuses and all kinds of artisanal bombs. It was like heaven for pyromaniacs. Whatever these guys were planning was nothing short of mass destruction.

“We’ve secured all the weapons, Master,” a shushed voice spoke in Japanese from your right. He came closer to stand just in front of the boat you were using as a hiding spot. He looked about half a person in height. If a wild gust of wind blew his way he would most likely topple over and become dust.

“Good work,” said a deep voice from the left as he approached too. The way he spoke those simple words was enough to make tremors run down your back.

Trying to get a better view of the owner of the voice a tangled mop of white hair entered your vision.

Damn, this guy was long overdue for a haircut.

Trailing your eyes further down you took in his sturdy physique that was outlined through the clothes he was wearing. You could tell he was trained in some kind of martial arts. No one just had heaps of muscles like those. You could easily draw a map of the world between those wide shoulders… Snap out of it, Miyu.

The loud crash of crates rattling to the floor brought you back to reality. You needed to get out of there.

You couldn’t risk getting caught and brought in by the commander in chief. If he wasn’t alerted yet he sure got wind of things by now. That man definitely has mutant senses.

The last thing you needed was them catching wind of your location. You spent so long staying under the radar and now was not the time to advertise your whereabouts.

I am void. I don’t care. I haven’t seen anything.

I am not getting involved with this.

While repeating the mantra several times in your head in order to calm down, you had to figure out a way to sneak out as smoothly as possible without alerting anybody. Especially the strong muscular white mop of hair who hasn’t moved at all from his spot right in front of you.

After a quick scan of your surroundings you came to two choices: going left, straight through the docks and to your hideout located on just the other side; or going right, having to circle around the whole city to get back. It wasn’t hard to figure out which one was safer. You’d rather go around the whole city as many times as you needed if it meant staying away from whatever these people had planned. You just had to wait for the right time to make your way out.

After a while, the two men blocking your view headed towards the rest of their squad. This was your chance. All you had to do was get set, ready and sprint the hell out of there before someone caught you and made you fish food. If only things would play out like that.

In your rush to escape you missed a teeny tiny key detail. The dark brown fishing cord extending from the boat to the empty crates behind you.

You barely made it two steps before your leg tangled in it and you were falling face first to the hard concrete floor, taking the crates with you. The steaming buns you tried so hard to keep close spilled all over the floor in the process. I’m so fucked.

“What was that?” growled one of the goons.

Mophead turned around swiftly and locked eyes with you. Lifting your own gaze from your uncomfortable spot on the floor, you connected it with his. Eyes akin to predators that lurk in the dead of night pierced yours. They screamed murder. The ‘chop you apart for funsies’ kind of murder.

But something about them caught you off guard. The blue hue outlining his pupils. Something about them though eerie and giving you the eebie jeebies was so familiar. Where have I seen these eyes before?

He seemed to be stuck in his own reverie. A tilt of his head signalled his confusion to your presence. You don’t even know how long you were both stuck soul searching each other’s eyes as the deafening sound of gunfire descended down on the docks.

Breaking your staring contest apart you tried to locate where the firing came from. Then it dawned on you. The commander in chief was here.

Mophead set off in your direction to possibly grab you but he only managed to take a step before bullets lined up a few feet in front of him. With a low grunt, he spared you one last look before retreating back to his gang.

The bullets were flying closer and closer to your spot and the intense smell of gun powder filled your nostrils. This was your cue to exit stage.

You got to your feet, saved what was left of your steamed baozi and made a run for it. A few bullets narrowly grazed the ends of your dress but you quickly made it to the safety of a dark alleyway close by. Checking on your precious dumplings you saw most of them were unharmed and let out a breath of relief.

The pounding of guns suddenly stopped and you peered over to the docks from the corner of the alley. Assessing the situation you observed that half of mophead’s party was shot down by the commander’s force. Some of them managed to flee the scene when the firing started, but the rest were caught and put in restraints together with their leader.

Something felt off. Maybe it was the smug look on the commander’s face as he rounded up the thugs. Or the way most of his force came out from what looked like stationed places at the other end of the docks entrance. It almost seemed like they knew mophead and his crew were going to be here tonight.

No way. Was this a set up?

————————————

Back at the precinct

Enishi was fuming. It all went sideways too quickly for his liking. Someone talked and he was going to make sure they weren’t seeing the light of day. Once he made it out of the shithole he was currently held in.

“I’m going to ask you again. Why were you stealing weapons?” asked the commander. He was getting irritated and it showed in the way the veins on his neck strained. But he could press on as much as he wanted. Enishi wasn’t going to give him shit.

“Either you talk or your good for nothing squad will suffer in your place.”

“I don’t give two flying fucks about them,” spat Enishi.

This only earned him another punch to the stomach. The guards who were holding him let him drop to the floor, more blood dripping on the side of his mouth.

“I guess I’ll have to beat it out of you then,” said the commander, cracking his knuckles.

Bracing for the commander’s punishment, his thoughts kept wandering somewhere else. To the girl who was there tonight, hiding behind the boat. He wasn’t stupid. He sensed someone was eavesdropping.

You weren’t supposed to be there. You were a wild variable in his plan that he couldn’t have predicted. A handful of questions swarmed around in his head, but three of them stood out the most.

Why were you there tonight?

Who were you working for?

And where have I seen you before?

—————————————————————————

Ten armed guards at the front of the building. Another two securing the entrance from the inside. Five more moving around the halls. None on the top floor. Bingo.

Sliding open the glass window on the roof of the precinct you snuck in. You landed down swiftly, arching your heels to keep you steady. Stealth mode switched on in your head as you carefully inspected your surroundings.

Tightening the grip on your twin Remingtons closer, you advanced to the walls opposite to the railing overlooking the entrance. As you rounded the corners you spotted a staircase going down to what looked like a meeting hall.

Raspy shouting and what resembled the sound of slapping was getting louder as you descended. Someone was either receiving a beating or they were just into kinky shit.

You were on the last three steps when a guard passed by. Straightening up, you glued yourself to the wall, becoming one with the shadow. As he got further away you tilted your head towards the glass ceiling and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

This was a terrible idea. What were you even doing here in the first place? This was not your fight. But your conscience convinced you that you were somehow responsible for the unsuccessful outcome of mophead’s mission.

You weren’t supposed to be there tonight. It was just incidental. Your stupid craving for dumplings made you come out of your extremely comfortable refuge and one thing led to another as you found yourself in the middle of crossfire.

Without thinking too much of your bad choices for the day, you geared up to save mophead. You didn’t know why you were going this far for someone you didn’t know. But you felt needed for once in a while and like you finally had a job to do.

There was something else that bothered you about your encounter. The moment mophead locked eyes with you was scorched into your head. Your brain replayed it over and over again for no specific reason until it drove you crazy. Those eyes bugged you to the world’s end. There was something so addicting and familiar to them. But you couldn’t recall where you’ve seen them before no matter how hard you tried.

You needed to find out who this man is. So, like any normal person looking for answers, you went to ask him. As soon as you busted him out of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

—————————

In the meeting hall

“This would be so much easier if you just talked,” yelled the commander in chief.

“How about… fuck you. Good talk,” said Enishi with a sick grin.

“You son of a—,” the commander was cut off by the sound of shots being fired outside the meeting hall. Suddenly, everything turned quiet. Everyone’s ears perked up listening for what could follow.

A powerful kick thundered against the golden door to the meeting hall that made it come off its hinges and cave in on itself. The door fell with a loud thud and you stepped over it, the click of your heeled boots bouncing off the echo in the room. All eyes were trained on you.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” you chirped, enthusiastically twirling the guns in your hands.

“Who are you?,” asked the commander in chief.

“Let’s just say I’m someone you don’t want to mess with,” you said confidently.

“You’re just a stupid girl if you think you can just come in here —“

“This stupid girl just took out most of your guards on duty. It will be her utmost pleasure to take you out too,” you said with a smirk.

Enishi was watching the exchange, his head swimming with confusion for the second time tonight.

Just who exactly were you? And why were you crossing paths again?

You first show up as a hindrance to his plan and now you’re here to probably mess up more than you already have. He was also kind of blaming you for the situation he was in at the moment.

At least you proved useful in distracting the guards and the commander so he could work on getting his hands free of the rope tugging at his wrists.

Looking over at mophead you notice he freed himself. You haven’t worked in a team before so you threw him a look asking for guidance on what to do now. What he saw was more of a weird face that kind of creeped him out but he quickly caught onto what you meant.

He wasn’t sure whether to trust you but he didn’t have the luxury to audition for partners right now. So, sending a silent nod your way, you let the fun begin.

—————————

Mophead lunged for the commander in chief while you preoccupied yourself with the five guards in the room. You easily took out the first one by the couch at the side of the room.

Pointing your gun to the next one you pulled the trigger but nothing happened. You tried the other gun receiving the same response. You were left without bullets. Strapping the guns back to your belt you took a fighting stance. Hand to hand combat it is.

The guard lunged at you and your fist connected with his nose. A loud crack was heard and blood started seeping through his hands as he cradled his nose.

“You bitch—,” you cut him off by hooking your leg to the back of his neck, dragging him to the floor.

“Did your mother not teach you how to speak to a lady?”

He got back up and got ready to throw another snarky remark but you wasted no time in shutting him up with a nearby chair. The wooden chair broke to pieces as it made contact with him. Once he fell to the floor motionless you directed your attention at the other three guards. They started circling you from different sides. Showtime.

You let them come at you. The taller one came first, swinging a bat at your head. Ducking successfully to avoid having your head turned into a baseball, you went for a roundhouse kick to his head. He got projected to the other side from the force you put into the move.

The last two attacked you at the same time. One of them had a knife that managed to get a few cuts through the sleeves of your dress as he kept swinging at you recklessly.

“I just got this one,” you huffed disappointedly as you lifted a slashed piece to check the damage.

Getting annoyed with his incessant flailing about, you caught his hand just as the smaller one came from behind you. Kicking back your right leg into the stomach of the smaller one, you got a chance to take the knife throwing it away. You turned and elbowed the knife wielder in the stomach, directing another knee at his ribcage letting him fall flat to the floor. One more to go.

Standing face to face with your last enemy, you spared mophead a quick look. He was struggling with the commander as he was pushed face down on the big wooden desk. He quickly turned and got him into a deadly chokehold.

You didn’t even notice his outerwear was discarded and he was left only in a tank top. His huge biceps were flexing dangerously as he tightened his hold on the commander’s neck. Sweat was piling like rain drops down his arms and you found yourself drooling. You were suddenly digging the white mop of hair.

You were snapped out of your fantasies by the small garden goblin running towards you with a spiked staff.

Do these guys not have one normal weapon on them? Where do they get all this ridiculous stuff from?

You dodged his attacks until he got tired and his swings turned sloppy. Finding an opening you caught the end of the bat with your right hand and turned your left into an uppercut diving it to his chin. The impact was so hard he flipped back and landed in a star shape on the floor.

Just as you were finished with him, mophead finally squeezed the living daylights out of the commander and let him fall splat to the floor.

Sensing the ruckus, the guards from outside started piling up into the hall. You both walked towards each other until you were back to back. In other circumstances you would’ve loved the way your heavy breaths mingled and the way your shoulders shyly grazed each other. But now was not the time.

“Any chance you have a plan to get us out of here?” asked mophead. Guards were surrounding you from all sides and the only way to escape was fighting your way out.

“I’m guessing breaking some more necks wouldn’t hurt,” you replied hastily.

“You take the ones on the right. I take the ones on the left,” he directed.

With another nod you both got into position and watched as the guards descended upon you.

A storm of fists came your way. You tried blocking them as much as you could but five to one was too much to handle without a weapon. Mophead noticed your struggle and quickly tried to get rid of the three bat swingers in front of him. With a low sweep kick to their ankles they all fell over, hitting each other with the bats they were holding.

You were holding onto three bats with all your might, when two guards sneaked behind you ready to deliver a dangerous blow. Enishi intercepted them before they could carry out their plan, catching their arms mid swing and twisting their arms to an inhuman angle.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to hit a lady, especially from behind?” he said as they writhed in pain and scrambled to the floor.

You finally managed to throw the three men backwards, taking to delivering a kick to each of them. By the time you were done with them you were breathing heavily. You were a good fighter but your stamina was always holding you back. Mophead seemed to be more trained in that field though as you saw him cutting through the guards with ease.

Another five guards circled both of you.

“Give me a hand,” you said as you ran towards mophead.

He sensed your idea right away. Latching your hand with his you created enough momentum for him to pull you around in a circle to kick down all of the guards. Once you got both feet back on the ground you noticed the secured hand on your waist. Looking up at him you noticed he’s about a head taller than you. Feeling you tense in his hold he quickly dropped his hand from your waist and trained his gaze on the broken down door.

“We have to go before more come.”

“What about your crew? Are you just going to leave them here?”

“They can get out just fine by themselves,” he growled.

And with that he grabbed your hand and you made a run for it.

—————————————————————————

Next

Thank you for reading! Comments, notes and reblogs are always welcome :)

[mako-neexu]

smth smth rambles that are entirely my opinion and i could be wrong (so dont attack me) you know this chapter made guda, fuijmaru ritsuka with already Many Issues worse is because of "mash" or rather kyrie's death but ultimately comes back to mash...that dantes did for them.

we even see a while back how guda was already shaken by not knowing whether mash is safe during lb6 after that fog like their priority is mash. mash.

they were already frantic as soon as they remembered mash almost questioning everyone about her whereabouts and immediately got reckless just trying to reach her at norwich. and when only when they were together did the "narrator" emphasize on the sheer relief guda felt like-- wow the obvious signs in OC chapter 2 makes you realize furthermore that guda's sanity hangs on a thin thread named 'mash' asdfgh

yes guda loves mash!! yes they care about her!!! but look and read at how guda tells absolutely nothing to mash- and that applied the same to kyrie!

(more below)

kyrie wanted to know and ask her senpai about the situation like we see her really wanting it but ultimately backtracking in the end because she trusts guda and she's even supportive. and guda was grateful/relieved that she stays innocent about the weird things going on in their tokyo.

they do compromise at one point that if kyrie really demands on explanations, guda would tell her but...

guda doesnt tell her anything, (kyrie believes in her senpai so even when faced with death, kyrie didnt break under pressure) keeps her in the dark so no one comes after her. for her to be ultimately safe. so she remains...innocent, normal who stands alongside "mama" and "little sister" as they arent involved in the first place about whats been happening. and guda wants to keep it that way for their family. not a real family, but a family nonetheless that cared about guda. an epitome of normal- which mash kyrielight has attained.

and now you see guda, who, upon waking up asks mash kyrielight if she was okay. if she was alright. guda doesnt stop their questions until mash answered. and so mash answered.

"I'm okay, Senpai. My vital signs are normal... so I'm completely okay."

all the while guda had just dismissed being in pain literally one minute ago and just hugged her tight. they "save mash the trouble" to tell her about the pains they went through in the singularity so as not to burden mash. so they stuff their pain inside the corner of their heart again, completely satisfied with mash's safety and disregarding their own health. (you also see in section 23 that theyre cherishing the normal and small moments with mash.)

mash is normal. mash looks pure to guda, her heart filled with "color" in comparison to guda whose heart has become "transparent". an inverse character development which will ultimately destroy them both.

for mash, who sees her Senpai as strong and unwavering, the image of kindness and strength when they held her hand during part 1 crushed by a coffin which she continues to believe them to be that way until now.

for guda, who sees mash as someone who's become normal. one last remnant that reminds them of a past life lost, mash with that purity and normalcy becoming an ideal to protect (as if she was glass) because they no longer have their own. (and mash is also literally the only one left close to guda, who remembers all the events of part 1. which... adds more to how losing mash would break guda even further.)

(also we see guda say 'tadaima' coming home to an empty house, the loss of kyrie and their family still in mind, and a little later, the Avenger mindset comes back and settles in as they're plagued by bloodlust. then when guda comes back to mash, their home, mash is their home. do you realize that? do you realize what im saying? mash says: "welcome home, senpai." and that was enough for guda. that eased everything in guda's tumultuous heart.)

i remembered guda avoiding on telling "mom" that they and kyrie were near the "gas leak site" / britoalter's battleground so like.....of course their lying to medical staff about getting back to the battlefield would carry over here.

deliberately making sure the "normal" components of their fake high school life remain untainted is what we see guda do. they shouldered everything, terrifying as it is, just to protect them but ended up inevitably losing them in the process.

there's also that contrast in seeing a dead body between kyrie and guda. kyrie still stood strong against dantes and remained rational and calm while telling "ojisama" that this wasnt good for guda. meanwhile guda, while still able to think about calling the ambulance after seeing the da vincis absolutely lost their mind when it came to kyrie which their mind thought of mash- and i think guda thought of both as 'one' person so they went absolutely insane right then and there

during the conversation with amatsuka, thats the part where guda became finally stable. because its implied guda's mental state really broke at kyrie's death which their mind automatically thought it to be "=mash is dead". but ukelele-senpai saved the day by reminding guda where they are, if mash and kyrie were the same person, and helping guda calm down and think of seeing that blue sky with mash during the part 1 epilogue.

and augh guda you shit!!! you need therapy!! dont put mash in a pedestal!! dont treat her as if she's fragile!! dont treat her like porcelain meant to be protected while you take on everything for the sake of keeping mash safe because she is the only remnant of your past left, because she is the only "normal" person you have left!!! guda you need to understand that if ever mash gets hurt someday or dies and its out of your control, you need to understand that it wont be your fault!! you need to understand that because someday you will part ways with her as well and you need to be able to be ready to lose again. if you lose mash once and for all, what will you do!?!?!? this is not healthy guda!! gudaaa you hear me!!?? gudaaaaaaa

[fandomwe1rd0]

Why I think Morty is Rick's favorite person

We get confrimation in season 7, episode 7 "Wet Kaut Summer" and in season 7 episode 6, that Rick spoils Morty, we can also see that only Morty gets spoiled, since Summer expressed jealously at the fact that Morty gets whatever he wants and all he has to do is ask, meanwhile Summer has to do chores for Rick, Rick does say the reason why he has Summer do chores is because he sees her as an equal and respects her, but I still consider it sweet that he spoils Morty.

It's been confrimed that if it came down to it, he would sacifice himself for Morty, we see this most famously in "A Rickle In Time" where he sacifices himself for Morty by giving Morty his time collar and again in "Rest and Ricklaxation" where Toxic Rick basically sacifriced himself for Morty (This one may be more debatable, depending on your viewpoint it is called merging, but considering that toxic Rick would stop being his own person, I would consider that sacifrice) we also get that confrimination from heathly Rick in that episode, he says, and I quote "You've done nothing but complain about me being in charge, but if I ever gave you the wheel, we'd be dead in 5 minutes" (Or something similar to that, I don't remeber the full quote)

He chose Morty over Diane, in "Fear No Mort" Season 7 episode 10, Rick finds out that he could've seen Diane again if he went into the fear hole, so he runs in, looks at the hole, debating wether to go in or not, but just chose to put a picture of Morty (That he had carefully folded in the front pocket of his wallet mind you) and went back to spend the rest of the evening with his grandson. Keep in mind this is Diane, someone he could never replace due to her being erased through every dimension, someone who he made his car sound like, someone who he dedicated years of his life towards avenging her. And he chose Morty over her,

He is more protective over Morty more than he is over anyone else in the family. This may be because he adventures with Morty the most, so we see more scenes of Rick protecting Morty, but we see him protecting Morty a lot wether it's just by putting Morty behind him (As we can see in Morty's Mindblowers season 3, episode 8) threatening people who hurt him (As we can see in M. Night Shaym-Aliens! Season 1, episode 4) telling people to leave Morty out of conflicts they have with him (As we can see in Close Rick Counters with Rick Kind, Season 1, episode 10) or straight up killing people who hurt Morty (As we can see in Meeseeks and Destroy. Season 1, episode 5) using his body to stop bullets from hitting Morty (As we can see in Edge of Tomorty: Rick die Rickpeat season 4 episode 1) or getting angry when people insult Morty (As we can see in Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender, season 3, episode 4) He is consistantly protective of Morty, and he isn't shown to be this protective over anyone else.

He values Morty opinion of him, this may be more due to his ego than anything, but we see in Vindicators 3: The return of Worldender, Rick quickly became incredibly jealous when Morty admired someone more than him, and in season 6 episode 10 Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation, we can see that he replaced himself with a robot since he was upset with the thought that Morty found him boring, so much so he replaced himself with a robot

Morty is the only family member Rick didn't abandon. Now, I'm not talking about when he refused to abandon his family but then Rick Prime killed them, that obviously wasn't Rick's fault, I'm referring to the world he corenberged in season 1 episode 6, Rick Potion #9, he only brought Morty along when he could've very easily just left Morty there to rot, he could've just gotten a new grandson, there is literally infinite realities, heck after season 1 episode 10 Close Rick counters with Rick kind, we can see that he has a coupon for a new replacement Morty, why doesn't he just use that? He could easily get a more impressionable Morty who would just obey him and not question him, but he doesn't.

Morty is the only thing keeping him stable, while that certainly is not healthy, since Rick shouldn't rely on his 14 year old grandson to keep him stable, I feel like it's proof that again, Morty is his favorite person, while this is most obvious in season 7 episode 6 Rickfending your Mort with Morty pulling Rick out of a slump after he felt empty after defeating Rick Prime, if it wasn't for Morty, Rick would still be in a slump and would still just be drinking in the garage, but we also see this in Rick and Ricklaxation, Season 3, episode 6 as he completely broke down when Morty was gone for 2 weeks, he apparently would just drink and call Jessica, a kid he did not know beforehand, and would cry about how Morty was gone, and tried to get him back. That is why I think Morty is Rick's favorite person. This is why I wanna grab Morty, shake him and yell at him about how much Rick cares about him

[where-i-overanalyze]

Maka and Crona gay moment masterpost (part 2)

welcome back everyone. part 1 is here.

literally pain and nothing else

fellas, is it gay to threaten to kill your crush's mom in exchange for information of their whereabouts???

i feel like this definitely counts. when your friends know how much you care about one person that they immediately react to hearing bad news about that person is "oh man, they're gonna cry." kinda gay imo.

also, Maka literally sends re-brainwashed Crona into a panic. by Black☆Star and Tsubaki just mentioning Maka to them, they literally lose it and it messes with the brainwashing, experimentation, whatever it is that Medusa did to them so that by the time they've killed Medusa they can at least pull some of Maka's significance in their life out of the depths of the madness. UGH!!!! devastating,,,,,,

Maka trying to pinpoint Crona's soul wavelength?? her first instinct is to look for them as she remembers them, not what they've become. i'm emotional

the church

idk man, abandoning the order you fought for your whole life to make sure that you are able to spare and knock some sense into this person, who you know has been wrongfully manipulated??? these are kinda gay.

ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

the head cradling, the reestablished connection, and once again, someone Maka is close to is like "yeah, Crona means a lot to Maka, so we've been making sure to keep believing in you too"

and would it truly be gay without tragedy??? without redemption and devotion and sacrifice??? without the lingering devastation that one has to live without the other for the rest of their life??? understanding that, while people may somewhat understand how they feel, they will never be able to share this specific experience with someone else??? the mourning, the memory, staring at a reminder every night of everything that happened and a promise that couldn't be kept while everyone moves on with their lives.

literally devastating. is it that poetic because that's because it's the way it was written and planned, or is it because i've become extremely attached to these characters??? that's up to interpretation (not really, i doubt Ohkubo would do what i wish this all meant)

now, happy anime things to make this nice at the end!!!!

misc. homosexual anime behavior

okay, yeah, each of these scenes didn't happen in this order, but it's still gay.

i tried to upload that as a gif, but it was Too Big. fellas, is it gay to have a montage of all your memories as you avenge them, and then the montage is apparently too long to become a gif because you have all these memories with them???

thanks for joining me. haven't done a long post in a bit and this one is Long. if there are any other gay moments i missed, let me know and i'll edit this post and add more of them (or maybe just a part 3, but i hate making "parts" so we'll see)

(edit 1: found a better translation for the panels from Chapter 112, so i replaced the previous panels!)

[theconstantsidekick]

Tony Stark Is Like A Painting

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: I literally have no idea what genre this qualifies as and I personally have a wide range of what I consider genre

Summary:  Tony's being rejected from the Avengers Initiative. FUN!

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Very little Swearing (idk how that happened)

a/n: read Age Of Ultron for more information on Y/n's backstory

sidenote: if ya'll know about the rabbit in a snowstorm, HIT ME UP.

My Greatest Creation Is You (previous part) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (Ft. Static) | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | Static Verse Masterlist  | Iron Man 1 (ft. Static) | Bucky Barnes, the Boyfriend

“I don’t think I want you looking at that,” Fury says in a scolding tone as he enters the room and takes a seat opposite Tony. There are guards surrounding them and behind their table are holographic screens lit up showcasing footage of the… let’s call it recent peculiar events. “I’m not sure it pertains to you anymore.” Fury pulls the file titled, “Avengers Initiative” out of Tony’s hands. 

Ooof, she thinks. That’s gotta hurt. 

“Now this, on the other hand, is Agent Romanoff’s assessment of you.” Fury hands Tony another file. “Read it,” He urges him.

Tony does as he’s told. “Aaaah—‘Personality overview—Mr. Stark displays compulsive behavior.’” Tony looks straight at Fury, “In my own defense, that was last week.” When Fury does nothing but stares at him unimpressed, he realizes his joke has not landed. Moving on, he adds, “‘Prone to self-destructive tendencies.’ I was dying. I mean, please. Aren’t we all? ‘Textbook narcissism’?” He seems a little shocked at the observation. There is a pause. He even looks at Fury… who remains unmoving. So Tony says, “Agreed. Okay, here it is… aaaaah—‘Recruitment assessment for Avenger Initiative. Iron Man? Yes.’” He closes the file. “I gotta think about it.”

Fury commands, as unimpressed as ever, “Read on.”

So once again, Tony does as he’s asked, he opens the file and reads, “‘Tony Stark not—? Not recommended’? That doesn’t make any sense. How can you approve—me but not approve me? I got a new ticker.” Fury gets off his seat. “I’m trying to—uh—do right by—uh—Pepper. I—I’m in uh—a stable-ish relationship.”

Fury walks around and rests against the table by Tony’s chair, “Which leads us to believe at this juncture we’d only like to use you as a consultant.”

And you have to know, a man does not dress up in a flashing red suit of armor if he isn’t at least a little bit of an egomaniac. If S.H.I.E.L.D. does not want him, he doesn’t need to pretend to need them. He’s a little petty that way. 

Tony stands and offers his hand. Both men shake hands.

Clasping his other hand on top of Fury’s, “You can’t afford me.” He smiles. 

He goes to leave, but then he turns around again. “Then again, I will waive my customary retainer in exchange for a small favor.” Fury looks a little skeptical, so he continues, “Rhodey and I are being honored in Washington and we need a presenter.”

Yeah… see? Real fucking petty that way.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Fury answers.

Tony smiles, triumphant in his upcoming revenge.

Then he whistles, “You coming?”

Y/n steps out of the shadow where she had been leaning on the wall, “You head out, I’ll be right behind you. The Director and I have a few things to square out.” 

Tony rushes over, drops a kiss on her cheek, and heads out.

Both she and Fury take a seat. 

“So?” Fury begins. “What is your assessment of Tony Stark?”

Y/n pushes her chair back so it’s balancing only on the hind legs. “My assessment is that whether you like it or not, he is going to be an Avenger.”

Fury raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

His tone is so apprehensive that it makes Y/n smile. “There’s this painting I like. It’s called ‘Rabbit In A Snowstorm’. You heard of it?”

“That all white piece of canvas that you fancy folk like to call art? Yes. I’ve heard of it,” Fury replies, clearly interested.

Y/n smile some more. “You don’t like it, I take it…”

Fury looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world to dislike it. “It is literally all white. Now, I might not be the artsiest fucker out there, but come on, calling that blank canvas a painting is a stretch.”

Nodding in mild assent, Y/n shoves her hands in her pocket and throws her head back. “See, the thing about that ‘blank canvas’ is that it takes time. The more time you spend looking at the painting, the more of yourself that you invest into it, the more you see. You spend a couple minutes you see the texture, a more and you see the different shades of white and a couple hours in you can even see the brush strokes.”

“So, you’re saying Tony is like that painting?” Fury asks, mildly annoyed.

Y/n sits up. “I’m saying all the people around him have stuck around for a reason. And no matter how—unstable you think he might be, you have to admit the people around him are beyond trustworthy.”

“I cannot pick him to be on my team because I like his friends. This is not a game of charades in a shitty little house party,” Fury argues.

Shrugging, Y/n says. “Look, this isn’t me trying to convince you. I don’t really care if you put him on the roster. I just know he’ll find his way there.” Fury looks at her with a challenge in his eye. “What? You think the council will let you call in these so-called ‘Avengers’—” she picks up the file titles, ‘Avengers Initiative’, “—unless the world is on fire?” She scoffs. “No, right? So here’s my follow-up question; if the world is on fire do you think my brother, Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark will just sit on his ass and watch it happen?” 

“So you’re saying it’s inevitable?” Fury questions, brow raised in discontent.

Standing up, Y/n replies in indispensable nonchalance, “No, come on! I’m saying neither of us knows what’s gonna happen in the future.”

“Except for the part where Tony will be on the team,” Fury counters.

“Yeah, except for that,” Y/n answers, fixing her suit.

“How do you know that the rest of them will accept him?”

“I know because of the ‘Rabbit In The Snowstorm’,” she tells him and begins walking out. “It’ll happen sooner than you think. You’ll wake up one day and realize Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark are the best of friends.” She shakes her head, “It’ll be hilarious.”

“You’ve got yourself a bet, Agent Stark,” Fury challenges with a small smile in his voice.

“It’s Ms. Stark.” She puts on her sunglasses. “And you’re on, Nick.” With that she steps out, rushing over to her brother, who’s waiting patiently in his car.

“I’m craving donuts, you want some donuts? I think we should get some donuts,” Tony says as she gets in the car.

“I think Randy’s is open.”

With that, they drive off.

Find the series masterlist here. Find the Static Verse Masterlist here. Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

tag list :@aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @rockybutmakeitlame @romanoffswoman @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987

hit me up if you wanna be added to the tag list.

[thefiery-phoenix]

MY SLEEPING BEAUTY PART 2 (YANDERE PETER PARKER X READER)

Part 1

You woke up the next day feeling really fresh and energetic and you couldn't help but feel that during the night most of the times, something would hold you. But you had no idea that it was your friendly neighborhood spiderman Peter Parker who would hold you and fantasize about both of your lives together

Speaking of Peter Parker, he already started planning to kidnap you so he can have you all for himself. Finally all the days where he protected you and watched over you from the shadows were gone, you can be right in front of him where he'll always love you and smother you with his love. He knows it might take lot of time for you to adjust and get used to your new surroundings and life with him but it's for your own good darling! He's just trying to protect you from all the dangers in the world, and he as an Avenger and as Spiderman knows how dangerous and bad the world is for a pure kind innocent angel like yourself. He decided to take you the next night in your sleep so he won't get caught of kidnapping someone in broad daylight 

You couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling as the day passed while you were in school. You were really close friends with Peter and you told him about how you felt and how something warm was on your bed the other night and you actually had a good night's sleep for once. Oh yes, Peter DOES know about that and it's a good thing he held you in his protective arms and embrace otherwise you wouldn't go to sleep and you would've stayed up watching shows on Netflix and anime and reading fanfiction and whatnot. And Peter couldn't have that, what sort of boyfriend would he be if the love of his life couldn't go to sleep and gets tired the next day? He told you that he'd make sure nothing happens to you and you didn't think too much about his words. You thought he said them as a kind concerned friend but in reality, boi here is literally freaking obsessed with you 

You finally finished your day at school and went home and Peter followed you secretly without knowing. He kept an eye on you 'for your safety of course' and watched you through your window. He was mesmerized by whatever you did, everything you did drove him crazy. He loved the way you danced and hummed to the tunes of your favorite songs but he felt upset and wanted to hold you and comfort you again when you whined and grumbled in frustration while doing something difficult for homework. 'It won't be too long my love, I'll give you the life you deserve' he thought and watched you for some more time. Your mother called you for dinner later and you went down. While you were having your dinner Peter took the chance to look at your room in a more detailed manner and he loved the way you organized eveything so perfectly. He made a mental note to design a same room like this one when he takes you and he collected some little souvenirs for himself

When he heard you come back he quickly leaped out of the window. You saw the window open and you thought 'Strange... I thought it was closed. Meh, I probably left it open again or something' and you closed it. As you were getting ready for bed Peter got ready to take you for himself. It was now or never. He slowly snuck into your room after he changed into his Spiderman suit and picked you up carefully and gently bridal style. He brushed a few strands off from your face, gently kissed your lips and pulled back red faced and unable to believe he finally had you for himself. He'd finally take you to your new home where you don't have to get worried about school anymore. He was finally going to give you the life you deserved, of love and affection

[buckyismybicycle]

Title: the (pineapple) contract - chapter 1/3 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes/Escort!Reader (F) Tags/Warnings: Big Dick Bucky Barnes, Top Bucky, Dom/sub Undertones, Confident Bucky Barnes, Oral Sex (by that I mean Bucky eats you out like a starved man), Praise, Pet Names, Painful Sex, Crying/Crygasm, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Until You Black Out, no beta we die like thanos Summary: Well, the contract said Personal Care Attendant and technically, the Winter Soldier wasn’t on the active roster. Yet. But the point still stands. He more or less owned you now.

You take one last deep breath before knocking on the door.

Part of the "Bucky Barnes As..." series & Hot Bucky Summer 2023

hosted by @buckybarnesevents Week 3: "Where do you want me?" Kneeling | In My Lap | Bent Over

We'll be back for Week 6 (Chapter 2) and Week 3 (Chapter 3)

>>AO3 Link<<

The cheque in your hand has far too many digits in it — you’ve never seen two commas in the number, made out to you of all people. Hell, you wouldn’t have cared what the hell the job was, you would’ve said yes anyway.

You just never imagined that trying to pick up Tony Stark on Park Avenue would be a job interview.

“Name your price,” he had said.

You probably would’ve slept with him for zero, but when you had jokingly said a million dollars, you never thought he’d actually follow through. First came the NDA, then the contract and benefits package, and now…

Now, you stood outside a dull-looking door trying to calm yourself down about the fact that you were about to whore yourself out to an Avenger.

Enclosed for your review is a copy of your job description, benefits package, and the corresponding appendices. Should you wish to accept this offer, your contract and a questionnaire are emailed for your review and return. Upon receiving your executed contract and completed questionnaire, should your answers be compatible, we will reach out to schedule your start date.

Well, the contract said Personal Care Attendant and technically, the Winter Soldier wasn’t on the active roster. Yet. But the point still stands. He more or less owned you now.

You take one last deep breath before knocking on the door.

The man that opens it is not the man from the online articles and archives. He isn’t long-haired, dead-eyed and clad in murder gear (because there really wasn’t any other word for it). No, the person that stands in front of you is seemingly flawless, the sunlight from his windows surrounding him in a glowing warmth.

He quite literally takes your breath away.

“Can I help you?” He finally asks, shifting his weight ever so slightly.

Right. You clear your throat, offering your hand as you introduce yourself.

He studies you intently, his eyes obviously tracking you from head to toe, but doesn’t say anything else as he shakes your hand firmly. “Bucky,” he responds in kind.

“I’m, um, I’m here because…” Oh god, what if he had no idea?

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“I’m here as a… As your personal care attendant?” As soon as you say the words, you feel silly. Your cheeks start to flush, but it’s nothing compared to what he says next.

“Then you’re late, kitten.”

(4) Your duties will include, but are not limited to (a)Providing thorough, attentive care to the client within reasonable allowance, even outside of those covered in (5). (b)Receive and follow instruction from the client within reasonable allowance, even outside of those covered in (6) (c)Commence reasonable care should the client require it at your discretion, without infringement of (8)(a), (b) or (c) (4)(c)(i)The term “care” will include, but is not limited to… (ii)Psychological care as set out in Appendix I (iii)Domestic care as set out in Appendix I (iv)Physical care as set out in Appendix I, II and III

It was very evident that he wasn’t expecting you to take care of him so much as take care of him. His apartment was spotless, though the lack of furniture and possessions might be the biggest reason.

“So. You know what this entails.” It comes like more of a statement than a question, but admittedly, that does a lot for you. You looked at him, cross-armed and leaning against the back of his couch. Tugging at the bottom of your dress, you tried to remember how to simply act normal and nod, a little less shy, slipping into your role with a little more ease.

“Yes, sir.”

There’s a look of amusement on his face, so you make a note of that.

“Hard limits?”

“None,” you answer quickly.

“I find that hard to believe,” he fires back. “Everyone has limits.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking about his, though he reads your expression well enough.

“I have too many to list,” he says. “Which is why I prefer to just control the situation.”

God help me. It sounded too good to be true, that maybe — just maybe — he was made for you.

Or you were made for him, at least. His pleasure.

“That sounds good to me,” you say all too brightly. “Sir.”

He smirks at that, and you’re absolutely done for.

“You don’t have to keep calling me that,” he tells you, beckoning you to follow him. “Though I do like it.”

You decided right then and there that you would do pretty much anything with him. For him.

“So, about those limits —”

“Knife Play,” you blurt out once you reach his bedroom. “That’s — that’s the only one I don’t think I can do.”

He turns and gives you a look. “Why, because I’m the Winter Soldier, you think I’m automatically into knife play?”

“OH MY GOD!” You exclaim, slapping your hands over your mouth at your blunder. “No! No, oh my god, that’s not what I meant!”

You’re about to grovel at his feet when he starts to chuckle softly.

“Relax,” he says easily, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “That’s fine. I’m not gonna throw you into the fire just yet.”

Yet. You’re not sure if that was meant as a threat but it sounds more like a promise if you’re being honest.

“I can handle more than you think,” you say, pursing your lips.

“S’that right?”

The challenge in his voice has you nearly quivering and you’ve barely even started. You give him a little shrug before nodding, trying to give as good as you got.

“C’mere here,” he coaxes softly, hand outstretched. It’s stunning, the black and gold, intricate and precise — more sophisticated than anything you’ve ever seen.

You take it and ease yourself down on his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his hands far gentler on your waist than you thought they could be. The blue of his eyes is even brighter this close up, light with mischief and wide with wonder as he looks at you, like you were something to be discovered, explored.

“Safe word still pineapple?”

Looks like he read your questionnaire after all. You nod again, the energy thrumming just under your skin as his hands slowly travel up your sides and back before ending up at your neck. He can probably feel your small shudder or your thundering pulse. At the very least, he can certainly see the goosebumps forming under his fingertips.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

With that, he claims your lips, your body, your very existence as if it was his only goal. And god, does it work.

There is no part of you that doesn’t immediately belong to Bucky at that moment. His tongue parts your lips and moves confidently as he devours you, taking you apart. Each swipe of his tongue is firm and purposeful — designed to steal your breath away as his hands map out your body.

You can’t stop the gasp that escapes against his lips or the way your body tenses in his arms, muscles coiled to try and stop yourself from just dripping all over his lap.

It takes you far too long to realize the game you’re playing — well, that Bucky’s playing. You’re simply along for the ride as he catalogs all your reactions from each shiver of your body to every moan and shaky breath you let out. Within a few minutes, you’ve already revealed all your cards without even knowing that’s what you’re doing.

You’re embarrassingly short of breath when he pulls back to survey you.

“You make such beautiful sounds,” he says, nonchalant as if your heart rate wasn’t skyrocketing.

“You’re a damned good kisser,” you respond/

He gives you a cheeky grin that would’ve made your knees buckle if you weren’t seated on him. “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.”

You run your hands up his chest, marveling at how firm it was. For a brief moment, you forget who he is and just touch. As your fingertips roam upward, you memorize the arch of his clavicle that leads to the dip in the hollow of his throat underneath his Adam’s apple.

You shift slightly, getting ready to slide off and sink to your knees to service him.

“Like what you see?” He asks — except this time the cocky tone has a softness to it that you're not sure he even caught. As if there was just a bit of something behind that seemingly unshakable confidence.

“Yes,” you answer simply with a smile. “I really, really do.” It’s true, after all. He wasn’t just handsome, wasn’t just pretty, there was something about him that was so alluring, you found yourself forgetting your contract almost entirely.

It’s the right answer, apparently, because he flips over to lay you down in the center of his bed, throwing your plans to kneel for him right out the window.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of just how much bigger he is than you. He’s an imposing figure, there’s no arguing that, but when he had first invited you inside, it hadn’t been your focus. Now, with the cool, soft sheets at your back and his thighs settling between yours, you feel like trapped prey to the king of the jungle.

You knew that a serum pumped through his veins that made him infinitely stronger, but your history books always said that the serum wasn’t like Captain America’s. It didn’t shoot him up nearly a foot and slap on nearly 150 pounds.

No, these are all muscles that he had to work for and train for, that he has to maintain. The very same muscles that pressed against the inside of your thighs as he settled in above you, dwarfing you.

“Okay?”

It catches you by surprise. Really, you were his property, he owned you, and could do whatever he pleased with you. That’s what you had signed up for. Ever since signing all those papers, you had braced yourself for the worst of it — after all, you’d come across plenty of people who only ever wanted to assert their power over you because of what you were and what you did.

So this? The pause, the way his eyes search yours for a truthful answer, the way he asks so tenderly? All unexpected when what you thought you would receive was something harsh, sharp, and as cold as his moniker suggests.

From here, looking up at him, though? He looks like an angel. The overhead light isn’t too bright ad the soft, warm halo of light makes him ethereal — all smooth skin and eyes like the sky.

“Very okay,” you reply, your cheeks unusually warm. You don’t get flustered anymore — or so you thought. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you urge him closer, eager to kiss him again.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs as he closes in. This time, he kisses down your neck instead. His teeth softly graze against your skin every now and then as he makes his way to the centre of your chest.

That’s my girl. You don’t know if that’s just his sweet talk or if he’s finally asserting his ownership of you. Either way, it gets you all worked up, especially when his hands join his mouth in their exploration of your body, gentle but firm as he gropes at you.

By the time he reaches the hem of your dress, every inch of you is covered in goosebumps.

Expecting him to rip it off, your breath catches when he simply sits back on his haunches and runs his hands up your thighs. They disappear from sight under your dress but you can certainly feel their presence, skin hot and metal slightly cooler.

Your legs spread for him so easily it’s almost laughable.

(10) You are expected to carry out your duties with discretion, professionalism and a high level of enthusiasm. Criticism will not be tolerated.

“Pretty girl, are you already drippin’ wet for me, hm?”

You’re almost afraid to speak, knowing full well that a bunch of embarrassing noises are pent up inside you right now. Where you wish Bucky was right now.

You take a deep breath in. “Yes, sir.”

He gives you a look — a fond one that most people give their pets — and it inexplicably makes your heart race.

“You don’t mind if I have a little taste now, do you?” He asks, fingers already curling around your panties and tugging them down.

“Please,” you let slip, waiting for him to lower himself to the mattress.

Instead, you yelp when he suddenly hauls your lower half up by the hips. You figure you must look like quite the sight, tits jiggling with the movement as you find yourself nearly suspended with your legs slung over his shoulders.

You don’t even get the chance to speak before he lowers his mouth and makes your entire body come alive for the first time in ages.

“Oh!” You cry out, hands gripping the first thing they can find: his thighs.

He chuckles against your cunt, tickling you in the most intimate sense while your fingers dig into hard muscle.

Your legs automatically tense up, ankles loosely locking behind his back as he keeps working your cunt, tongue gliding up and down your folds easily. His tongue is a wicked thing, a sin all on its own, as it draws the most guttural sound out of you

Seemingly satisfied that you’re secured, he runs his hands up your thighs and slips behind to knead your ass, large hands cupping you perfectly.

“Bu…”

You lose your train of thought when he slips his thumb inside of you, tongue following closely, fucking in and out shallowly. “Oh god, fuck, fuck!”

“Sweet as honey, baby,” he purrs, licking a long stripe up to your clit and sealing his lips around it. His other arm wraps around your hips to support you through the involuntary spasms that wrack your body as he circles his tongue around you, torturously slow to draw every last breath out from your lungs.

“W-wait,” you pant out, flushed and warm all over. “This should - it’s about you —

The corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly as he smiles deviously, the coarse hairs of his scruff tickling you.. “Oh, it is, honey. I'm enjoying myself just fine.”

To prove his point, he presses his hips forward and along your back you feel a faint, long, thick heat.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, imagination already running wild with how good that’s going to feel inside you.

“Gettin’ there,” Bucky quips, returning to his task.

He’s diligent about switching between suckling you and curling that sinful tongue of his, flicking it over your clit just firm enough, just slow enough, that every drag feels like it’s breaking you open.

You feel yourself unraveling, like a runaway spool of thread and you desperately trying to hold on, hands clamoring for purchase as your body comes undone.

“Bucky!” You cry out, hands grabbing onto the arm wrapped around your waist. You’ve never whined the way you do right now, trembling in Bucky’s hold as he slows his movements, giving you just a moment of reprieve.

The look in Bucky’s eyes is predatory as he waits for you to regain your breath before giving you a final, harsh suck, teeth grazing over the sensitive nerves that nearly makes you come again just from that.

He finally lowers you to the mattress — a trembling, flushed mess — before undressing himself. It’s almost clinical, without fanfare, and that just doesn’t seem right to you when he’s unrevealing such beauty. As he strips, revealing all that gorgeous, smooth skin, you try to sit up even if you felt like your entire body was jello. You just wanted to reach out, to touch, and you were so enraptured by him, by his body, that when your eyes finally roamed south you gasped.

“Holy shit,” you blurt out. You think back to when Bucky originally asked you “like what you see?” not realizing just how much you would.

Your hand has never looked smaller than it does right now, wrapped around Bucky’s monstrous cock, hot and heavy against your palm. Subconsciously, you lick your lips as you watch precome starting to bead at his swollen tip.

You keep your grip firm as you give him a full stroke and your eyes drink in the sight before you — Bucky’s face, lax with pleasure, and the minute twitches of his muscles at your simple touch. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s been intimate with someone — if that’s why you were offered so much money to be for his personal, constant use.

“Your cock is gorgeous,” you tell him, hand getting used to the weight and length of it. “Want this inside of me, right now.”

Bucky’s face morphs into something even hungrier. He lowers his hips, cock nearly scalding against you. For the first time, his voice sounds less than perfectly in control. “I can’t catch or carry anything.”

You already knew that from the massive package of paperwork.

“And I can’t get you pregnant.”

You knew that, too, but again he sounds so clinical about it, you wonder if it bothers him at all.

“Yeah, handsome,” you nod, smiling dopily. “Rawdog me.”

Bucky makes a sound like a cut-off laugh, and you can’t help but feel victorious when a smile breaks out on his face.

“You’re somethin’ else, sugar.”

There’s a shift in the air, the both of you settling into each other like you’re not two absolute strangers as he presses his body to yours, cock sliding over your tender clit and across the slick of your folds.

You wrap your legs around him and dig your heels into his back as if to say c’mon, c’mon! Hurry up!

You thought you were ready. You’ve never had this issue before. But as Bucky starts to nudge the head of his cock in, you inhale sharply, your body immediately tensing to reject the intrusion.

He pauses to pull back and look at you.

“Sorry,” you say in a hurry, nervous and embarrassed by your reaction. You bring your hands to the side of his face trying to show him that it’s nothing he’s done. “You… You’re just, um…”

His eyes narrow slightly, eyebrow furrowing as he goes to pull away.

“Wait!” You keep your legs firmly wrapped around him, trying to trap him even though you were no match for his strength. “It’s not you. Well, sort of. It’s just that… You’re fucking huge, Bucky. I’ve never…”

His eyes widen in surprise, evidently not expecting your answer though you don’t miss the way his cock twitches between your legs. Then his look softens and he kisses you sweetly — more tender than anyone’s ever kissed you before.

“Roll over for me,” he commands gently.

As you do so, you watch him open the nightstand and to your relief, pulls out a bottle of lube. Natural instincts take over at that point — you prop yourself up on your knees, spreading them until you’re comfortable, and keep your chest to bed, arching your back.

He makes a pleased sound behind you. “Lookit you, babydoll. Bent over and spread open for me like a good girl.”

Your toes curl slightly at his words and your whole body tightens when you feel his fingers slip into you, the lube cool against your heated cunt.

“Relax, princess,” he coos, his other hand trailing down your spine. “Be a good kitten and just let me open you up, alright?”

You’ve lost the ability to form words so you nod against the sheets instead as you will your body to relax. Soon, you forget about your mission to take Bucky’s giant cock and start to lose yourself to the feeling of Bucky's fingers inside you. They’re just as talented as his tongue, expertly navigating all your sweet spots, some of which you didn’t even know you had.

“God, you feel you so good,” you groan, fingers curling in the sheets, clinging on for dear life.

“Oh, we’re jus’ getting started, baby.” His other hand returns to your near-overworked clit and you’re dangerously close to coming again.

You turn to look over your shoulder, intending to stop him. Instead, you jolt as he gives your cheek a lovebite, beard scratching against your ass while he curls his fingers inside you and pulls the orgasm from you. Your back arches as you scream out at the unexpected whirlwind of pleasure that travels through every vein of your body.

“Shhh, sh, you’re alright, sweet thing.” His voice is low and soothing.

You want to tell him that you’re more than alright, that you’ve never been pulled apart like this, that you’ve never come just from someone’s fingers, that you’ve never seen such a fat cock in your life. But all you can do is nod frantically, panting as your body comes down from the high.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. You let out a breathy moan as you reach back blindly for him. “Yes, Bucky, yeah. Gimme that perfect cock of yours.”

While you can’t see his expression, you hear a soft huff from him before the head of his cock is at your eager hole again. You feel him give himself a few pumps, slicking himself up with more lube, taking the time and care not to hurt you.

This time, you’re ready for it. As he enters, you exhale, your muscles loosening to let him in.

More than just let him in — welcome him, pull him in, making yourself the perfect fucking home for his cock.

“Goddamnit, sweets,” he murmurs, lowering his chest to your back, the cold metal of his dog tags on your spine. “Y’feel like a dream.”

“You’re one to talk,” you manage to gasp out, eyes scrunched as all of your attention is focused on the delicious stretch.

He brushes your hair to one side and for a moment, all you do is look at each other in the moment.

You reach out to trail your fingers along his wrist and he goes to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“M’gonna move, ‘kay?”

In lieu of a response, you clench down on him and grin when he hisses at the sensation.

“Watch it…” The low rumble of his voice only spurs you on, so you do it again, this time wriggling underneath him.

“C’mon, Bucky, please won’t you fuck me?” You taunt, your voice coy. “Put that fat cock of yours to use, huh?”

There are no words this time, only a soft clicking as you watch in fascination while his arm calibrates ever so slightly. You think you hear him mutter “you asked for it” but you can’t be sure because your own cries fill the room as he pulls back a few inches and thrusts back into you.

“This what you wanted?” Bucky growls before he gives your ass a light swat.

“More,” you beg him, despite the twinge of pain as your body tries to adjust and accommodate Bucky’s girth.

Bucky must read it as a challenge because he doesn’t go easy on you — after a few long, controlled thrusts, he must deem you ready.

You’re not sure anyone could quite be ready for the ravaging storm that is Bucky.

He fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to fuck anyone — determination and desperation wrapped up in superhuman stamina and strength. Without a doubt, you know you’re going to walk away with bruises — on your hips from where he grabs you, your thighs and ass from where he slams into you.

“Sh-shit,” you curse, panting into the sheets that you’ve bunched in your fists. Your hair sticks to your neck with the sweat building as your body tries to keep up with the assault. “So fucking - good, Bucky. Your cock feels so good — splitting me in half.”

Bucky makes an animalistic noise in his throat, yanking your hips back to him as he plants his hand beside your head, arm anchoring you in place.

Oh, fuck. As anticipated, he rails you within an inch of your life — you’re struggling to breath, heaving for air, and your eyes are scrunched shut to stop the tears from actually spilling.

“Okay there, sweetheart?”

Fuck him for not even sounding out of air. “Ssso goo-ood,” you slur, a litany of gasps and moans follow. “Love — that you’re — tearing me apart.”

Bucky’s voice is positively gleeful. “Yeah? You like getting fucked so hard you can’t even keep your eyes open?”

You make a conscious effort to crack an eye open and fire back. “Yeah. Fuck, you’re so deep I can feel you in my throat.”

“That can be arranged, honey,” he teases, hauling your hips up for an excruciating angle that makes you come so hard your vision turns white.

“Fucking gorgeous when you come,” he praises and you can’t formulate the words to reply.

“Ah, ah, nnngh, ah, f-fuck,” you babble, vision blurry as you tear up. It hurts but it’s beautiful, it’s brutal but controlled. It’s fucking perfect. You’d tell him just that, if had any air left in your lungs.

The last thing you hear is Bucky’s voice shushing you and telling you to rest before it all turns black.