#marvel fanfic

[nastybuckybarnes]

Date Night

Pairing: dbf!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky makes a big mistake.

Warnings: Angst, Language, yea sorry

Word Count: 1.7K

A/n: teehee whoops. im gonna have a ghost one coming out soon for you guys, and then maybe some more teddy bear picnic but we'll see

~*~

"Hey kid, wanna grab a beer and watch the game with your old man? Or are you too cool for that?"

You grin at your dad and slow your steps, glancing at the hockey game on TV.

"Where's Bucky? I thought he was your game night date? He finally realize hockey sucks?"

Your dad gives you an offended look then rolls his eyes playfully.

"Nah, he had to cancel last minute - he's got a hot date tonight."

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, unaware of the fact that those six words have flipped your night upside down and caused knots to form in your stomach.

You don't remember having plans with him tonight.

As casually as you can manage, you head into the kitchen, pulling out your phone and tapping a quick text over to the man in question.

'Not coming over tonight?'

It's read within the same minute, and then the telltale three dots pop up before his message spawns.

'Sorry baby, not feeling too hot.'

The knots in your gut are quickly crushed by the boulder that settles there, and you need to take a few careful breaths to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the kitchen.

~*~

"Everything okay, James?"

He huffs out a sigh and glances up from his phone, smiling weakly at the woman across from him.

"Listen, Dot... I can't tell you how grateful I am that you managed to make such a beautiful cake in such a short amount of time. And, while I'm flattered that you'd want to go out for dinner, I had you make that cake for a woman who means... quite a bit to me. I don't want to make things awkward but I do want you to know that I'm out with you tonight as a friend and nothing more."

The woman across from him blinks blankly a few times, then takes a sip of her martini, stands up, and leaves the table.

Bucky watches helplessly as she leaves the restaurant without another word, dropping his head back for a moment as he feels onlookers stare.

It takes a few minutes for the waitress to come back, but by the time she does, he's got a wad of cash ready for her and his keys in hand.

He all but runs out of the restaurant, a new lightness in his shoulders like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

Immediately, he grabs his phone and shoots a quick text off to your dad.

'Room for one more?'

It takes a few minutes for your dad to respond, which Bucky uses to put on his helmet and straddle his bike.

'Date not going well?'

Bucky chuckles softly.

'Something like that. I'll be there in five.'

He swipes out of the conversation with your dad and then clicks on the only pinned conversation on his phone.

'I'm feeling a bit better now, gonna pop by for a bit.'

With that, he locks his phone and brings his bike to life, eager to be in your presence again.

Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your pity party, and you frown at the text on it.

You turn your phone off and drop it face-down on the carpet, ignoring this text the way you've ignored the last three from him.

You can hear him downstairs chatting with your dad as if he's done nothing wrong. As if he wasn't out with another woman less than an hour ago.

Grinding your teeth together, you decide that enough is enough, and it's time for bed.

At the very moment you open your door to head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Bucky decides to raise his fist to knock.

Your eyes meet his and, for a moment, you forget that you're mad. You forget everything.

And then he opens his stupid mouth.

"Hey, what's with you tonight?" He asks gently, reaching forward to grab your hand.

You yank away from him and take a step back, levelling him with a steely glare.

"How was your date?"

You watch as he deflates, as his face falls and his shoulders slump forward the tiniest bit.

"Sweetheart, it's not what you think, I swear."

"Oh Jesus Christ," you murmur, pushing past him and heading downstairs to watch the game with your dad. At least down here he can't talk to you.

He can't try to justify him willingly going on a date with another woman.

Well, not until the game's over, at least. And it seems like it's only a few minutes before your dad is yawning, turning the TV off and heading upstairs to go to bed himself.

This leaves you alone in the living room with Bucky, tension building with every silent second that passes between the two of you.

"Honey, I had to," he finally whispers, breaking the silence.

You whip your head around, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

He holds his hands up, a desperate and pathetic attempt at pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.

"It was the only way for me to get your birthday cake. Dot is an old friend from high school and... she wanted a date as payment for the last-minute cake," he explains quietly.

You purse your lips, nodding as if it all makes sense now.

"Oh, I see! So, not only do you admit to forgetting my birthday, but you also agreed to go on a date with a woman who has had a thing for you since high school! Buck, that is so not okay on so many different levels!" You exclaim in a whisper.

The last thing you need is your dad overhearing any part of this conversation.

"I know. That's why I left. I told her I couldn't, that the cake was for someone important to me and that I was only having dinner with her as a friend."

You shake your head at him and rise to your feet, unable to stay still while he spews nothing but nonsense at you and expects you to forgive him.

"You shouldn't have even gotten me that cake if that's what she wanted as payment! You should've told her to stick it and then you literally could've gotten me a Starbucks cake pop. I don't need fancy cakes or expensive things, James, I thought you knew that." Your voice gradually loses its anger, disappointment and exhaustion taking its place.

"I know but... I wanted to do something special for you." He looks like a kicked puppy, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to hold on to your anger.

"My birthday was special. Even without the cake it still would've been special. Especially if I'd've known it would mean that you would be going on a date with another woman in order to get it."

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he pleads, reaching for you again only for you to shake your head and step away.

"No, Bucky. Sorry doesn't fix this. Can you imagine if the roles were reversed? What if I had to go on a date with a guy who's been wanting me for over a decade just for the perfect steak? And then, what if I lied to you about it and you found out from my dad that I was out on a 'hot date'? A date with someone that the general public would deem more appropriate for me to be with? Someone who would fit me better. How would that make you feel?"

He stands there silently for a moment, fists clenched tightly as he imagines everything you just said.

He imagines you laughing on a date with another man, a young man, a man far more appropriate for you to be with. He imagines sitting waiting for you, only to find out that you're out getting hit on by some young punk who wouldn't know how to please a woman like you. His imagination runs wild, to the point where he can almost feel steam billowing from his ears, but all he says is

"Shitty."

"Shitty?" You laugh, "Try worthless. Embarrassed. Humiliated. At least that's how I felt. And-and maybe I'm just reading too deep into this. Maybe this 'exclusivity' that I thought we had is one-sided."

"It's not," he interrupts quickly, taking a step forward only to pause when you step back again.

"Maybe I just thought things were more serious than they were," you continue, eyes stuck on the ground as your thoughts spill out before your mind has a moment to realize what you're saying.

"They are serious-"

"Maybe we should just stop... whatever this is that we're doing."

Silence hangs heavily in the air when you finish speaking, and you feel tears sting at your eyes when he says nothing.

You count thirteen heartbeats before he finally says something.

"Is that what you really want?" He asks softly, his voice discouraged.

Slowly, you raise your eyes to his.

"What even are we?" You ask breathlessly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. "What are we doing?"

"You're my girl."

You sniffle and shake your head.

"No, I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am. And I'm tired of it. I wanna be something you're proud of, not something you have to hide," you whisper, your chest aching with the weight of your confession.

Bucky's heart breaks at your words, and he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and kiss away any insecurities you have in your relationship. If you can even call it that.

"I am proud of you, sweetheart, beyond proud. I can't even put into words how I feel about you," he whispers, desperate for you to understand just how much you mean to him.

"Why haven't you told my dad about us yet?"

The silence that follows your question is answer enough for you, and you nod.

"I... I think you should leave," you finally whisper, hugging yourself and keeping your gaze locked on the ground.

He stays rooted in place for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting for you to break. When you don't, he takes slow steps toward the door, waiting, praying for you to change your mind.

But you stand firm.

Never able to deny you, he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, your dad peacefully asleep upstairs while your entire life gets turned upside down.

[olsenmyolsen]

Swimming Lessons

Art By: @1005__H on twitter! I commissioned them after having this idea! They're wonderful!

Art By: @auroraromaximoff They're looking for more commissions and loved making this art after hearing my idea! They're super nice. Please check them out and give them a follow!

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Non-Canon - Post Hawkeye - (Bishova)

Summary: Kate does her best to teach her former Black Widow girlfriend, Yelena, how to swim.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Yelena hates the beach, Married WandaNat, Lucky is a good dog

"Kate Bishop!" Yelena whined for the millionth time today. "I told you I don't know how to swim!"

Kate, still baffled by this recent revelation, dropped her girlfriend Yelena Belova onto her feet near the crashing waves of the private beach rented for the day.

"I still don't understand that! A part of me still doesn't believe you." Kate said through her sunglasses as she eyed the more petite blonde. "How does a former black widow assassin not know how to swim!?" Kate questioned as she threw her arms up.

With her arms by her side and green floaties on her arm, Yelena stomped her feet in the hot sand. "I told you I was a child assassin on a mission that week!"

"Ten bucks says Kate gets Yelena into the water before we leave today." Natasha Romanoff, Yelena's sister, said to her wife, Wanda Maximoff-Romanoff, as they watched the two from afar on the porch of the rental house for the weekend getaway.

Kate's pizza dog Lucky by their feet.

"Natasha!" Wanda gasped before slapping her wife's arm. "You can't do that!" She then shook her head and looked back to see Yelena lying on the sand, distracting Kate with a story about how she sniped a former secretary of state.

Wanda sighed. "Fine. You're on." Natasha laughed and sipped her iced tea. "Double or nothing?" She then asked with a coy smile. "Not a chance."

"Wow, how long did you stay in the crawl space of that apartment?" Kate asked, fully involved in Yelena's story as they slowly started building sand castles before remembering what her original plan was. "Wait- don't answer that- damn it, Yelena!" She sighed and scolded her girlfriend before standing up and shaking the sand off of her. "I'm teaching you to swim!"

Yelena looked down at the sand buildings before her and back up to her girlfriend. "But... but I'm busy." She said with a pout, making Kate grab her by her arm and hoist her up. Yelena stumbled. Always surprised by Kate's strength.

"Yelena, I didn't spend all the time putting sunscreen on you for you to not get in the water!"

Yelena crossed her arms over herself in her two-piece. The floaties on her arms making squeaking noises. "But what about sharks?"

"There are no sharks," Kate said, standing behind Yelena and beginning to push her into the sand. Yelena's feet dragged and made lines in the sand behind her heels. "You don't know that." Yelena countered.

"You don't know that either."

"Shit," Yelena whispered. "Okay but what if... what if you get swept out by a current!? I can't save you!" Yelena brought up a pretty solid reasoning in her mind.

But Kate would die trying to get Yelena to do anything. So if some all-mighty power thought that it should be because she's trying to teach Yelena how to swim, then so be it.

Although that would definitely traumatize Yelena for life.

Oh well.

"I won't get swept out, Yelena. I'm going to be with you the whole time. I promise." As those words left Kate, Yelena planted her feet into the sand and turned around to her dark-haired girlfriend. "Promise?" Kate nodded with a breath. "I promise." Yelena searched Kate's eyes for any doubt, but she knew she wouldn't find any. So she nodded, turned, and stepped closer and closer to the water.

"We can go slow," Kate said, step in step with the blonde as the tide rushed over their feet before being dragged out. Yelena jumped back. "Why is it cold!? It's in the sun all day!"

Kate couldn't help but think that that was a good point, and she didn't have an answer for Yelena. "I don't know, but it'll get warmer the longer you're in it."

Yelena looked up at her girlfriend's face before slowly lifting a hand for Kate to take. The taller of the two smiled and took her hand as her other one came to rest of Yelena's back.

Another wave crashed onto their feet, making Yelena laugh lightly as the sand was being pulled from under her feet. "That feels funny." Kate couldn't help but smile and laugh with her. "It does." She agreed as they walked further and further out.

"Damn it," Wanda said as she got up to go retrieve $10 from her purse back inside the house. Natasha watched her wife with a smile. "I told you."

"I told you." Wanda mocked back.

Natasha just shook her head and turned to Lucky, lying flat against the wooden porch. "Oof. Looks like I won't be getting any tonight."

Lucky let out an exaggerated huff from his nose before his ears shot up to the sounds of laughter coming from the shore, making him get up and run to Kate and Yelena.

Natasha watched the dog take off before her eyes found Kate holding Yelena up and over a wave.

The water now thigh-high.

"Ahh!!" Yelena screamed with joy as Kate set her back now and let a wave crash into them.

"It makes me walk funny," Yelena yelled with a smile as the wet sand below her feet gave out, making her stumble a tad. Kate nodded and grabbed the blonde's hand. "Come on, there's a sand bar a little further."

"Sand bar?" Yelena quietly asked before looking around. She didn't see any drinks or people. Yet she followed Kate as Lucky splashed into the water, swimming up to them.

Not caring about the waves.

"Oh, that's why it's called Doggy Paddle," Yelena said as she waded through the water behind Kate. The water slowly rising up her body with every step. As it got past her stomach and some faded scars that's when Yelena slowly began to worry.

"Kate, it's getting deeper..."

Kate Bishop opened her mouth to make a joke before her eyes saw the tiny ounce of fear Yelena had in them. Kate quickly moved to Yelena's side again as Lucky watched them as he swam by to the sand bar.

"Show off," Yelena grumbled, making Kate tilt her head disapprovingly. "Yelena, that's not very nice." Yelena kept her mouth closed as she slowly moved her arms in front of her with Kate's help.

Listening carefully to Kate's instructions.

Swimming more and more as, her feet began to touch the ocean floor less and less. The waves became calmer the further out they went, which helped Yelena and her nerves.

Until.

"Kate Bishop!" Yelena exclaimed as she no longer had her footing, forcing Yelena's mind to short-circuit.

This was it. She was going to drown. She was going to sink. Lucky was on the sandbar watching and was probably laughing at Yelena as she floundered her arms up and down like a mad woman. Yelena knew she had the floaties on, but amid panic, she couldn't think as her feet kicked nothing but water. She opened her mouth to call for her girlfriend's help, but the water went right down her throat due to her own body moving rapidly up and down.

(also, Kate was right there the whole time watching Yelena. Yelena made it sound WAY more dramatic.)

Yelena screamed and coughed up the salty water as Kate wrapped an arm around the blonde and moved her two feet back to where Yelena could touch again.

Yelena sighed and caught her breath again. "I almost died! That would not have been a cool way to die!" Yelena sounds almost disgusted by this. "I was right there. I had you." Kate said with a smile to Yelena, making the blonde swallow and nod while looking out to the ocean before looking back at Kate with her lips curling into a smile. "Thank you."

Kate nodded and swam beside Yelena, who floated with her arms lifted up. "Of course." Kate kissed the blonde's cheek as Lucky swan up to them. Splashing them, making Kate laugh before flicking a small wave of water towards Yelena.

Yelena narrowed her eyes after the initial shock. "Count your blessing, my widow bites are not waterproof." Kate laughs loudly at Yelena's unwavering tone before Yelena splashes Kate back.

Natasha and Wanda continue smiling while laughing and placing bets on Yelena and Kate for the rest of the day.

And when the sun began to dip in the distance, Yelena and Kate walked hand in hand along the beach.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[purifiedclitoris69]

Darkness and Chaos

A/n: I have no idea how long this been sitting in my drafts, but I finally finished it. Bit unedited, hope you all enjoy! Thanks :)

Wanda Maximoff x enhanced!reader

You had always been attuned to the dark—something about shadows called to you from a young age. You first noticed it in fleeting moments, like when the shadows around you seemed to shift with your emotions, with your father's yelling and your mother's crying and both their drinking. It was subtle at first, easily dismissed, until one day, the shadows responded to your will, protecting you from the poison your parents spat. A flick of your hand could send the darkness swirling, you could create solid constructs like weapons and shields, bind enemies with shadow tendrils, teleport through shadows, and even craft illusions to confuse foes, you were an unpredictable force.

It wasn’t long before your abilities attracted the attention of powerful beings—both good and bad. The team had first encountered you during a mission to stop some HYDRA experimentation. you yourself sat in a cell experimenting with dark energy. You had been held captive by HYDRA, forced to use your powers of shadow manipulation for the organization’s twisted ends. However, the moment the Avengers arrived, everything changed. Their mission that quickly spiraled out of control but you helped them without hesitation, shadows erupted from you like a storm, weaving through the battlefield with lethal precision, and taking out the HYDRA agents like you’ve been dreaming of for ages. Your tendrils of darkness restrained enemies, while walls of shadow protected the Avengers from incoming fire. Wanda, immediately sensing your potential, your desperation to be good, reaching out with her magic, she offered you a way out—not just from HYDRA, but from the darkness inside you.

The Avengers wasted no time putting your skills to use. Your shadow manipulation was unlike anything they had seen, with Wanda’s chaos magic, capable of rewriting reality itself, the two of you became the Avengers' secret weapon against threats too powerful for conventional means. Your darkness and her chaos were like a pair of loss lovers beginning to dance. You communicated without words, your powers flowing together. It wasn’t just your powers that made you a powerful duo—it was your connection. You had trained together for months, learning to anticipate each other’s moves, covering for one another’s weaknesses. Where your shadows needed precision and control, Wanda’s chaos magic thrived in unpredictability, giving you both a perfect balance of order and chaos.

In the heat of battle, your synergy was unmatched. Wanda would send waves of crimson magic crashing into your enemies, altering the battlefield in ways no one could predict, while your shadows weaved in and out, creating traps, shields, and devastating strikes from every angle.

Naturally you guys were an inseperable pair outside of the battlefield as well. You were best friendsand everyone on the team knew it. You spend almost every free moment together, whether it's lounging in the common area, cooking meals in the shared kitchen, or training in the gym. But for you, every moment with her is tinged with something more, something you can never quite bring yourself to admit. It’s the little things that get to you—the way she smiles when she catches you stealing the last piece of pizza, or how she lightly nudges you with her shoulder when you’re both watching a movie on the couch, curled up under a blanket. Her laugh, soft and genuine, makes your chest tighten, and sometimes, when she’s not looking, you find yourself staring at her just a little too long, trying to memorize every detail of her face.

You were falling in love with her, hopelessly and utterly in love—but you can’t say it. Not yet, not when it could ruin everything.

Your days are a mix of training, missions, and downtime. During training, the connection you share on the battlefield spills over. You’re so in sync, knowing each other's movements before they even happen. When you spar, it’s like a dance of power all over again, a delicate balance of strength and grace. Sometimes, when you’re caught up in the flow, you’ll catch her eye, and there’s this spark—something just beneath the surface that makes you wonder if she feels it too. But then it passes, and you’re back to being best friends, pretending that the tension isn’t there.

After training, you’ll both collapse onto the floor, breathless and laughing. "I’m getting better," Wanda says, teasing you with a grin.

"You’re still too predictable," you tease back, though you don’t mean it. She’s anything but predictable. Wanda is like a force of nature—fierce and compassionate, more complex than anyone you’ve ever known. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. But you’ve gotten good at hiding your feelings, laughing off the moments that hit a little too close to the truth.

in the evenings, you’ll make dinner together in the compound’s kitchen. Wanda loves experimenting with Sokovian recipes, and you’ve found yourself loving the process too, if only because it means spending more time with her. There’s always a moment when your hands brush as you reach for the same ingredient, or when you stand side by side at the counter, your shoulders touching. You’ll glance at her, and she’ll smile, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing inside you. Sometimes she'd ask you to just sit at the counter for the company and the insurance so that you wouldn't mess up her 'delicate process,' you'd act annoyed but, it always allowed you to study her more, how she scrunches her nose, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her hair framed her face, anything.

"You're staring again," she says one night, catching you off guard as you chop vegetables.

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. "Am I?" you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice comes out just a little too tight.

She laughs softly, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "You’re a terrible liar."

You laugh it off, brushing it aside like you always do, but every time you’re near her, the feelings only grow stronger. It’s in the way she looks at you with those piercing eyes, the way she leans into you when she’s tired, like you’re her safe place.

Sometimes, late at night, when the compound is quiet and it’s just the two of you sitting on the couch, you wonder what it would be like to tell her the truth. But then fear creeps in—the fear of losing her, of changing everything. So, you stay quiet. When she gets up to leave, she often lingers, just for a moment, as if she’s waiting for you to say something more. You wonder if she feels the tension too, if maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move. But then she’ll smile, say goodnight, and disappear down the hallway, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the feeling of her absence like a weight on your chest.

Every now and then, you catch her looking at you differently, her gaze lingering a second too long, her touch softer than it needs to be. You wonder if she’s trying to say something without saying it. But you’re too scared to ask, too scared to risk what you have, so you both continue the dance—best friends on the surface, with so much more bubbling underneath.

The rest of the Avengers don't seem to notice the tension. To them, you and Wanda are just inseparable. They joke about it sometimes—and apart of you feel like Natasha knows, Nat teasingly calling you "Wanda’s shadow" because you're always together. And maybe they're right. You follow her wherever she goes, drawn to her like she’s the only source of light in your world. But none of them know how deep your feelings were, how every laugh, every casual touch, every shared glance twists something inside you.

The hardest moments are when Wanda talks about her past—about Vision, the loss, the pain. She opens up to you in ways she doesn’t with anyone else. You’re the one she trusts, the one she comes to when the weight of it all is too much. And you listen, offering comfort the best way you can, but it kills you inside. Because no matter how close you are, a part of her heart still belongs to someone else. And no matter how much you love her, you’re not sure there’s room for you there.

The mission today is different, saving the universe different.

The sky is ablaze with kree ships, and the ground trembles as waves of invaders pour into the city. You and Wanda arrive together, side by side as always, with the rest of the Avengers already in the heat of battle. Steve's voice crackles through your earpiece: “We need backup—now.”

Your heart races, not just from the battle ahead, but from the proximity to Wanda. The mission is urgent, and your mind is focused, but there’s a constant hum in the background—your feelings for her.

You glance over at her, catching a glimpse of her eyes glowing red as she prepares her magic. She looks determined, fierce, and more beautiful than ever. You shake off the thought, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“They’re teleporting in from somewhere,” you say, scanning the battlefield. “If we shut down the portal, we can stop this.”

Wanda nods, and you can see the same determination mirrored in her expression. “I’ll handle the portal. Cover me,” she says, her voice calm but filled with urgency.

Together, you create a dome of darkness, your shadows rising from the ground and swallowing the battlefield in an inky void. The alien invaders stumble, confused, while Wanda floats upward, her crimson magic intertwining with your shadows. You stay close to her, shadows wrapping around your hands like armor as you dispatch enemies who dare to approach. Your abilities blend effortlessly, like they were made to work in unison. And in a way, maybe they were.

As Wanda’s magic tears through the dimensions, severing the invaders’ connection to their homeworld, you can’t help but steal another glance at her. She’s lost in concentration, her hands moving with precise, graceful motions, and it’s in these moments you’re reminded why you’ve fallen for her. It’s not just her power, not just the way you work together in perfect sync—it’s her heart, her kindness, her courage. You’ve seen her at her most vulnerable, and yet she’s never faltered.

With a final surge of magic, Wanda closes the portal, and the skies clear. The remaining invaders are no match for the rest of the Avengers. As you land beside her, the battle over, the battlefield is eerily quiet.

Wanda looks at you, her red magic flickering around her hands before it fades. She’s smiling softly, the exhaustion of the battle evident, but there’s something else in her eyes—something warm, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You did great,” she says, stepping closer. “We always do.”

You chuckle, trying to keep it light. “Only because I’ve got you watching my back.”

Her smile widens, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to blur. It’s just the two of you now, standing in the aftermath of a battle you won together, like always. But there’s something unspoken between you. You can feel it. It hangs in the air like the only shadow you can’t quite grasp.

Admist the two of your distractions, one of the Kree is able to use the last of it's strengh shooting you twice in the back, one going straight through your abdomen. Wanda's face pales as Natasha quickly finishes of the Kree and you fall into Wanda's arms. You can barely focus, but her presence feels like a lifeline. She cradles your face in her hands, her expression frantic, eyes wide with fear.

“Stay with me,” she pleads, her voice trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”

You can feel the warmth of her hands against your skin, and in that moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings spills over. “Wanda,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, “I need to tell you—”

“Not now, y/n” she interrupts, her voice rising as she tries to keep the panic at bay. “We need to get you out of here first!”

But you can see the truth in her eyes, the fear that lurks beneath her fierce exterior. “I can’t—Wanda, I can’t hold back anymore. I love you. More than you know," you force a pained smile as the tears and burning pain blurr your vision, "I'm in love with you."

For a moment, time seems to freeze. You can see the flicker of hope in her eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something else—fear, and with that your vision goes black.

"Hurry help! Please!," Wanda screams as the rest of the team rushes over.

"We need to get her on the jet now," Natasha says as Steve pick you up with ease, running you straight to the medical table.

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a haze of sounds and sensations. The dull beeping of machines pulls you back, and when you finally force your eyes open, the sterile light of the medbay greets you. Blinking against the brightness, you focus on the figure by your side—Wanda, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the monitors.

“Y/n?” she whispers standing up, her voice trembling with relief. You try to speak, but your throat feels dry and raw, she quickly hands you a glass of water. She’s leaning closer, her hand holding yours, warm and grounding. “You’re awake. Thank goodness.”

The memories rush back—flashes of battle, the sting of pain, and the way she cradled your face in her hands as the world around you faded, as you finally confessed your love. Panic surges through you. “Wanda, what happened?” you rasp, struggling to sit up, but she gently pushes you back down.

“You were hurt. A Kree shot you.” Her voice is steady, but her eyes betray the storm beneath. “Natasha took care of it. You’re safe now.”

“safe, yeah…” you echo, relief flooding through you. “What about you? Are you okay?”

She nods, but there’s a distance in her gaze, a shadow that lingers just behind her eyes. You want to reach out, to pull her closer and make her feel your warmth, but there’s something heavy in the air—a wall between you.

“Wanda, I—” you start, the urgency of your feelings pressing at the edges of your mind. But before you can finish, she interrupts.

“Y/n, listen. There’s something we need to talk about.” Her tone shifts, the seriousness making your heart drop. You search her face, looking for any sign of what she’s about to say, but all you see is a mix of determination and fear.

"Wanda, what I said, it's true," you gulped down your anxiety, "I justt—"

“I don’t feel the same way,” she says, her voice firm yet shaking slightly. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. “I’m sorry. I care about you, but not like that. We need to focus on being a team...we work better as we are."

Her words pierce through you, each syllable a shard of ice. You feel the warmth of her hands slipping away, and the connection you thought you shared shatters, leaving you raw and exposed. “But I—”

“No, y/n” she cuts you off, her voice rising with a mix of desperation and anguish, "I can't give you what you want. Not in that way, not after everything."

Inside, Wanda is fighting a battle of her own, her heart pounding in her chest. She wants to reach out, to tell you that she feels the same, that she’s been harboring feelings for you since the moment you became friends. But the thought of losing you—the thought of watching you slip away like Vision, like everyone else she’s ever loved—sends a cold wave of terror through her. She remembers the pain of loss, the way it consumed her, the ache that still lingers deep within her soul.

“Wanda, please…” you say, your voice breaking, and her heart aches at the sound. She can see the confusion and hurt in your eyes, and it shatters her inside.

You deserve so much more than a broken person like me, she thinks, forcing a smile that feels like a lie. You deserve someone who can be there for you completely, without fear. But I can’t be that person. I can’t be the reason you’re hurt.

“I just need you to understand,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “We can’t cross that line. It’s safer this way.” But as the words leave her lips, she knows they’re a lie. The truth is that she loves you—deeply, but she can’t let herself act on that love. Not now. Not when the fear of loss looms like a shadow, ready to swallow her whole. “I care about you, and I’ll always be here for you,” she adds, trying to keep her voice calm, even as her heart races. “Just… let’s keep it this way.”

You look at her, the hurt in your eyes a mirror of the pain in her heart. She watches as you swallow down the heartbreak and practically return back to the shell of the person they found at HYDRA. As she watches the acceptance settles in your gaze, a part of her breaks, knowing that she’s ultimately built your walls back up, she's pushed you away when all she wanted was to pull you closer.

What have I done? she thinks, her chest tightening as she sees the distance growing between you.

You nod slowly, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, your heart heavy with the weight of her rejection. And as you lie back against the pillows, the silence fills the space where the truth should be, echoing with everything left unsaid, "I think I'd like some space for a little," you mumble turning away from her as you try so desperately to keep the tears from spilling.

"Okay," she agrees quietly walking towards the door, she pauses looking back as she's about to leave, "I'm sorry, y/n," she leaves.

[purehypnotic]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧ 🎮𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔🎮୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒙𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

(𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒑𝒔𝒆)

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭, 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞, 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

"𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭" 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭" 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐈 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 - 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 "𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲" 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬.

𝐈 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞. "𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫?" 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭" 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. "𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞-𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭" 𝐈 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.

"𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?" 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬.

"𝐌𝐡𝐦𝐦" 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲.

"𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰," 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, "𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐲'𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰" 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬.

"𝐍𝐨, 𝐧𝐨, 𝐧𝐨, 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐘/𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮" 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 "𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞".

" 𝐇𝐞, "𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬" 𝐦𝐞? 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞" 𝐈 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝, "𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬" 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

"𝐘/𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞" 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬.

"𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞," 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚.

"𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞?" 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐣𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡.

"𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞" 𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲,

"𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫?" 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

"𝐎𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝," 𝐈 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩, 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫.

"𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲," 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞.

"𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬," 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 "𝐎𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞", 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐰����𝐲 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞?" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐮𝐛 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.

"𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬" 𝐈 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥.

𝐀𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭, 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬.

"𝐈 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫.

"𝐖𝐨𝐰, 𝐬𝐨… 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐭?" 𝐈 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝. "𝐈'𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐃𝐢𝐩" 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬. "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲" 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, "𝐎𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨" 𝐈 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚'𝐚𝐦" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠" 𝐀 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥.

"𝐖𝐨𝐚𝐡," 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐤?" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧,

"𝐘-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭" 𝐈 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬, "𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?" 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬.

"𝐃𝐮𝐡," 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬.

𝐖𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲.

"𝐍𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬," 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭.

"𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞" 𝐈 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲-𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡,

"𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, "𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲" 𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧, 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞" 𝐈 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝

"𝐎𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘/𝐧" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

"𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞," 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭-𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐢𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

"𝐎𝐤 𝐬𝐨, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭" 𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, "𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲" 𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞.

"𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩" 𝐈 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫" 𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫,

"𝐞𝐡 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬" 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐈 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞" 𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩, 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞" 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧, 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭, 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐮𝐬.

"𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭," 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬.

"𝐖𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲" 𝐈 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛.

"𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐡" 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞, 𝐈 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞.

" 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭" 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬,

"𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫" 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

"𝐖𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫," 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐜 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭-" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞,

"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐈 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫.

"𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐬," 𝐉𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐄 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝

"𝐎𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰," 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.

"𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦," 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬,

"𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲" 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.

.

[hurtspideyparker]

Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker

Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go. 

Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts. 

"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them. 

"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."

"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"

Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up. 

"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."

Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out. 

"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."

"Hm. I think you're right actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots. 

"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."

"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."

"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"

"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper. 

"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.

Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?" 

"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change." 

Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.

"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"

There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism. 

Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."

Pepper glances at Peter in consideration. 

"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company." 

"Oh, I haven't really-"

"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."

Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago. 

It means she's already had the argument in her head. 

Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner. 

"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously. 

"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents." 

"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter." 

"You are such a man child!"

"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.

"Um, guys, I think people are staring."

Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips. 

Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained." 

"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them. 

Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads. 

"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."

"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."

Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them. 

"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again. 

The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences. 

"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly. 

Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."

Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked. 

Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Howling Moon (werewolf!bucky)

Summary: you find out Bucky's a werewolf.

WC:920ish

Warnings: angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, werewolf!bucky

Read on Ao3!

-

The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant howls, the moon casting a silvery glow that turned the world into a dreamscape. You always loved the woods, but tonight felt different—charged with an energy you couldn't quite place.

As you walked deeper, your thoughts drifted to him. Bucky Barnes. The quiet guy from town, whose brooding demeanor held secrets you yearned to uncover. Rumors swirled about him, whispers of something otherworldly. Yet, the mystery only drew you closer.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the trees, making you pause. You felt a rush of adrenaline, but it was swiftly replaced by a comforting presence. There was Bucky, emerging from the shadows, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Hey,” you said, heart racing. “What are you doing out here?”

He stepped closer, the tension palpable. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I needed to think,” you replied, searching his gaze for answers. “I’ve been hearing... stories. There’s wolves around these parts, or so I’ve heard. Been wondering what they look like, how they attack their prey. Or if they even exist in these lands.”

“It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself,” he titled his head to the left as he looked at you. “I think you should go back to the village.”

You thought it strange how he ignored your statement. “Bucky, why are you-” you cut off as a howl echoed through the woods surrounding you. Just as you turned around to gaze into the thicket of trees, you felt a searing pain in your shoulder as sharp canines sank into your skin.

The next morning, you were laid up in your own bed at home, covered under your duvet, warm from the night. You’d laid there for a moment, thinking about the night previous, yet, you could hardly remember much. Didn’t i meet with someone? 

Just then, you heard a knock on your doorframe and glanced up, seeing your best friend,  Bucky, leaning against he doorframe, looking absolutely exhausted. His hair unkempt, his exposed arms covered in bruises. What the hell happened? 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, unnaturally nervous, eyeing you with caution and concern. “You were out cold when I found you out in the forest.”

“Bucky, i had the strangest dream,” you whispered, sitting up against your headboard and beckoning him inside the room.

He tensed for a moment before walking over to you, his body stiff as you reached out to him, tracing your fingers along the random scratches and bruises he’d acquired the night before. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, though his focus didn’t seem to be on you.

“Do you think werewolves exist in the forest?” you asked quietly, as though speaking louder would attract unwanted wolves to barge into your small cottage.

“Anything’s possible, sweetheart,” he frowned. You didn’t miss the worried looks he threw at you as his eyes finally grazed down your body. He knew what he’d done last night. And he damn sure knew you would shout to the villagers of his disease.

“I had a dream - you were there- and-” you coughed out for a moment, grabbing at your midriff as pain shot up from one of the many injuries you had splattered across your body. “- and then everything went black and I woke up.”

“I-” he started, afraid to admit anything to you, afraid that you would hate him for hurting you.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” you whispered, acknowledging his behavior. “One of those monsters that keep attacking the villagers every month? Bucky, how? How could i have been so foolish as to not figure this out sooner?”

He flinched as though you had gone to strike him in the face.

“Bucky, tell me.”

“You already know the truth,” he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat as he pulled away from your touch, standing in the far corner of the room. “I wanted you time and time again not to frolic through the woods late at night. I warned you of the dangers of it.”

“I’m not going to run and tell the town crier, if that’s what you think of me, Bucky,” you frowned. The way he kept flinching as you spoke broke your heart.

"I just need you to be okay," you patted the empty space he'd just vacated. "Come here."

"You were never supposed to know."

Your heart ached for him, the weight of his past hanging heavy in the air as he returned back to the bed. “You’re not a monster, Bucky. You’re still you.”

His eyes met yours, searching, as if he was trying to determine whether you could handle the truth. “What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone else? What if I kill you?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He let out a shaky breath, tension easing just a fraction. “You’re brave, you know that?”

“Maybe just stubborn,” you replied with a small smile, hoping to lighten the moment. “Or maybe I just see the real you.”

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, eyes surveying the damage he'd done to you. He let out a soft whimper as he finally assessed the damage he caused, partially large bruise across your shoulder into your collarbone.

Without saying anything else, you removed the duvet from your body and leaned forward, pulling him in for a deep hug. "I will always care about you, Bucky."

-

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

[crappy-writings]

Retriever Antics

Kate BishopxReader // Fluff

*Images are not mine, credit to their sources and creators

Summary: Kate meets a kind dog walker after having chased Lucky through half of Central Park.

Content Warning: Cringy Dialogue? Awkward Kate.

Word Count: 2338

A/N: Hey, I just realized we reached 155 followers :D Thank you to all of y'all!

Main Masterlist | MCU Fics | Recced Fics

“Lucky! Come back here!”

Kate chased after the escaped golden retriever, frantically weaving between runners, cyclists and tourists through the Central Park paths and sidewalks. 

From the moment they had stepped out of the apartment for a walk this morning, Lucky had been tugging and pulling on his lead impatiently, much to her confusion. The dog was generally very calm, obedient and well-behaved, so the sudden shift to overabundant energy and restlessness had taken Kate completely by surprise. 

Something had caught Lucky's attention while they walked, causing him to run after it with force behind his tug, effectively breaking Kate’s rather slack hold of the lead. She genuinely did not understand what was up with the golden retriever, as he had never acted this way before, but regardless, she continued to run and call after him. The dog would not give up though, continuing to chase after whatever it was that caught his eye.

You would think that months of vigilante work would make chasing after a dog in the park easy, but it clearly was not. Lucky was quite fast and his small– well, smaller size made it easier for him to skirt through the people on the path.

There was a bit of distance between her and the retriever and he was still in her sights, up until she nearly knocked into a runner. “Sorry!” she yelled out at the bystander she nearly hit but continued running. 

The damage had been done though, as the minor trip-up caused her to lose track of him. 

Panic rose in her chest quickly as her head swiveled around the dividing path she found herself in. Her eyes scanned around the path, hoping to catch a glimpse of where the golden retriever might have gone.

“Lucky!” she called out to him a few times to no avail. She begins to lose hope, until she notices a group of kids that kept staring at her, a clear look of hesitancy on one of the boys’ faces. 

“Have you seen a dog? Golden, one eye, running away, black leash dragging behind?” the words rushed out of her mouth so fast, she was almost afraid she’d have to lose time repeating them.

The hesitant boy seemed to understand her, nodding his head and pointing his hand towards the left side of the path, “Your dog went that way.”

She was already running before the boy had finished his sentence, yelling out a quick “thanks!” while doing so. Her eyes scanned over the wide, bench-lined, stone path for the familiar golden fur and black leash. Dread was overtaking her body as all she could see was people walking through Central Park, but no Lucky.

Could the kid have been wrong? Was there another dog on the loose and he sent her after that one and not Lucky? Had she lost too much time? Was Lucky lost for good? 

Her spiraling thoughts came to a screeching halt when she caught a glimpse of him near the green-colored benches to the right side of the path. He was sitting down on the ground, staring up at a person surrounded by dogs. They were crouched down to his level, the golden retriever’s paw raised upwards at the stranger, as if asking for something. Kate could see him panting heavily, the wild goose chase he had sent the both of them taking a toll on him, too.

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears and her chest, her breath heavy as the exhaustion of the impromptu run crashed into her. “Lucky!” she yells out again as she closes the distance between her and the golden retriever, who only moved about two feet closer to her, panting happily as if she had not chased after him for a solid twelve minutes. She crouches down, grabbing the leash that was all dirtied up from being dragged around half the park.

“I’m so sorry! He’s usually not like this, he’s usually pretty calm! I don’t know what’s up with him today, he just woke up with so much energy and–” Kate starts apologizing in between heavy pants as she stares up at the stranger who now stood upright. 

Small rays of the morning sunshine fell through the tree branches that hung above the both of you, lighting up the skin of your face in an almost ethereal glow. A beautiful smile is painted on your lips as a soft giggle escapes you, your head tilted slightly to the side as you stare down at the girl. The sound of your laugh made Kate’s heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but want to hear it again. 

“Hi,” Kate says breathlessly as she offers you a lopsided grin, wiping away at the droplets of perspiration that had gathered on her brow. She stands up from her crouched position, both of her hands gripping tightly onto Lucky’s lead. Her cheeks are flushed with a soft, reddish pink color, and she chooses to blame it on the run. 

“Hi,” the look you give her is almost shy, and the sight makes Kate visibly soften, a fluttering sensation settling into the pit of her stomach. She takes in the rest of you, noting the athletic black leggings, paired with a black, cropped shirt, and a pair of running sneakers. 

“I’m Kate, that’s Lucky,” her eyes were still glued to yours, mesmerized by the lovely color of your irises. She realizes that the last thing she said could be slightly misinterpreted and quickly rushes to add in, “As in, that’s his name. Lucky.”

“Lucky, huh? So that’s who you are,” you tilted your head to the side slightly, your gaze traveling down to the golden retriever that now sat obediently by the raven-haired girl’s side, tongue hanging out with his tail wagging excitedly as you stared down at him. This earns him a silent laugh from you and the dog yips in reply.

“I also call him Pizza Dog,” Kate isn’t quite sure why she added that last bit, and she suppresses the urge to cringe at herself.

“Now that is definitely a bit more creative,” your tone is amused and teasing, your smile never going away. There’s a soft breeze that caresses your skin, tussling the ends of your hair gently. A small strand of hair falls over your features, and Kate almost has half a mind of brushing it away. You push the lock back in place, your eyes traveling upwards to stare at the raven-haired girl once more.

Kate looks away as she realizes she has been staring at you. A flush of embarrassment overtook her, staining her cheeks a soft pink color once more. She couldn’t help it though, there was something so captivating about you that would not allow her to look away. 

‘What happened to his eye? If you don’t mind me asking,” you added that last part quickly, not wanting to come off as nosy or disrespectful. Your question snaps her out of her thoughts, her eyes settling into yours once more.

“I’m not sure really, he was like that when I rescued him from getting hit by a car,” she stares down at the golden retriever that attempted to lick at her hands as soon as she tried to lay her hand on top of his head. She added that last part mindlessly, not intending to sound impressive or to show-off to you, and her eyes widened slightly, a sense of nervousness overtaking her. 

“Wow, really? You must be a modern-day superhero, then,” your smile is wide and teasing, but your eyebrows had raised slightly in amazement, and she relaxed slightly under your gaze. 

“You could say that,” Kate laughs at the unintended irony in your words.

It’s not until now that she realizes the sheer number of dogs that were sitting around you. There were eight of them, all different breeds, sizes and colors. Her attention was drawn to a beagle puppy, cinnamon brown and black spots spattered over his white coat. The small dog tilted its head to the side as Kate met its golden eyes, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

“That’s a lot of dogs,” Kate comments as another one of the smaller dogs, a white and sandy brown shih tzu, approaches Lucky, sniffing at his side in curiosity. The golden retriever seemed barely phased by the shih tzu, merely looking down at the pup before being distracted by a couple of cyclists that sped past the both of you.

“I sure hope so, or I wouldn’t be able to make rent,” you chuckle softly as you stare up at Kate once more. Her blue eyes flecked with gray were captivating, and they made you want to get lost in them forever. Biting the inside of your lip was a subconscious action, one that you hadn’t even realized you’d done, but it hadn’t escaped Kate’s attention, her heart jumping in her chest again at the gesture.

She could almost hear Clint complaining in her head, “You notice that, but you don’t notice when you pick up an explosive arrow instead of the regular one?”

“You’re a dog walker?” Kate asks rather dumbly, and she can’t help but cringe inwardly at her obvious question. You don’t seem to mind it as you chuckle slightly, finding the girl’s awkward demeanor adorable and, dare you say, charming.

“Among other things, yes,” the smile you flash her is so sweet, and Kate can’t help but wonder if your lips would taste the same. ‘Calm down, you just met her,’ she scolds herself internally.

“Oh yeah? What other things?” Kate questions curiously, her head tilting slightly to the side. 

“I moonlight as a waitress at a late-night diner,” you bow slightly, the words being said in an exaggerated way, making it sound more glamorous than it is. A goofy little grin decorated your lips as you stood upright once more.

“Wow, that’s very noble indeed,” Kate teases, her lips matching yours. 

“Yeah, not everyone thinks so, but I appreciate your appreciation,” your tone is a little less silly this time, but your smile never falters.

That was until one of the dogs you held onto by the lead began tugging at you with small whimpers and whines, desperate to continue the walk Lucky had interrupted. You give the black and brown German Shepherd a half smile, a twinge of disappointment sharp in your chest as you know the conversation with the raven-haired girl in front of you was coming to an end. Kate recognizes this too, the smile on her face faltering slightly, the same kind of disappointment hitting her like an arrow hitting its mark. 

“I have to start getting them home soon,” you send her a small apologetic look, “Their owners are waiting for them.”

But the disappointment disappears as quickly as it hits you, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you remember something. There was a brief hesitancy in your actions before you passed all the leash handles, reaching into the small fanny pack that hung around your waist. After a brief struggle to get it open with only one hand, you pull out a black and white business card, decorated with small paw prints, green tennis balls and a small drawing of a puppy with its head tilted sideways sketched at the bottom of the stiff paper. 

“Take my card, my number is on there. For if you ever need someone to take Lucky out, of course,” the tone in your voice is coy and the smile you send her way is playful. Kate immediately focused on the phone number that was written on it as she took the card from your hand, biting the inside of her lip to keep her excitement from pouring out.

“Right, of course,” Kate’s reply is stuck somewhere between stunned and amusement, her eyes switching between you and the card. 

“Or, you know, you could always stop by Jack’s Diner on 59th street, if you’re ever hungry,” you offer up a hopeful smile, one that Kate missed as she had still been staring down at the card, “I hope to see you around, Kate!” 

It took her a few moments to realize that you were walking away, and a few seconds more to realize something else.

“Wait! What’s your name?” It was embarrassing how long it took for Kate to realize that she had never asked for it throughout the entire conversation. 

“Look at the card!” you turned slightly to look at her, sending the awkward yet charming girl a wave before walking straight forwards once more.

Her eyes land on the card again, reading the words on the embossed paper. Your name tumbles out of her mouth breathlessly and she can’t help but love how melodic it sounds. 

She looks up at you once more, watching as you continue to walk away with the gaggle of furry creatures that surround you, before taking a right and disappearing from her view.

The busy world of Central Park continued around her as she simply stood in the middle of the path, not believing the luck she had just had in meeting you. It’s not until her furry companion lets out a booming bark that she breaks out of the momentary spell she was under.

“You had this all planned out, didn’t you?” Kate accuses the golden retriever, who simply stares up at her, panting and wagging his tail happily, and she swears she could see a mischievous twinkle in the dog’s eye. She crouched down at his level, scratching the soft fur in the back of his ears. A warm, slimy tongue laps at her face excitedly, catching her off guard and causing a groan and a laugh to get caught in her throat as she pulls away from the golden furball. 

“Come on Pizza Dog, let’s get you home,” her eyes drift back to where she last saw you, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

“I think I might be going out tonight.”

[cowboylikeyouu]

people who don’t leave comments on ao3 are the bane of my existence, i can’t with you guys

"i don’t know what to say🥹"

keep your dumb excuses to yourself and just say something like:

"omg i loved this"

"this was so cute"

"you write them so well"

"ahhhhh this is amazing"

"my favorite part was [insert your favorite quote]"

"[insert funny quote] LMAOOO"

"[insert shocking/emotional/whatever quote] are you kidding me omg???"

to name a few examples. it’s not. that. fucking. hard.

"i‘m scared🥹"

what the FUCK are you scared of, i promise you, the second you leave a nice comment authors will basically worship you, you should be much more scared as a silent reader, because i don’t fucking like you. yea thanks for the kudos ig but i would trade 100 kudos for 2 nice comments without a second thought.

it’s totally fine if you don’t comment on every chapter of every fic you read, hell sometimes i don’t feel like commenting either, but i almost always come back to at least say "loved this, tysm" or something.

you get thousands of amazing works FOR FREE, people are working months on these stories FOR FREE, and it’s so so so easy to make their day by just leaving a few nice words. and if you don’t wanna be public about it, dm them on tumblr or whatever.

anyways, to anyone who leaves comments regularly: here‘s a 0.5 pic of hugh jackman for you.

silent readers: you guys aren‘t allowed to look

[buckyalpine]

18+ AF Minors dni. Just a lil smutty thought with a scene I imagined. Bucky finds out Tony updated the security system for the compound and upgraded all the cameras to HD quality.

"So what you're saying is that footage would've recorded everything in the kitchen from morning to evening and the middle of the night...everything?" Bucky shuffled by Tony's desk after everyone had left the briefing about the latest Stark tech. Everyone's phones w

"Yes grandpa, that's how a security system works" Tony snorted while Bucky hummed, his mind still wandering.

"Yeah but....everything..in full detail? Including sound?"

"Yes, why, what are you doing in the kitchen" He cocked his head in confusion while the super soldier gave him a blank stare, only blinking twice in response, his cheeks growing redder with each passing second.

"Oh"

"OH"

Bucky scrambled out of the room, leaving behind a cackling Tony, his fingers desperately tapping his phone to unlock and check the security archives. He locked himself in his room, his stomach already churning when he saw the date of the video still very much accessible, dragging his finger to find the exact time-

"FUCK Sergeant!!" Bucky nearly flung the phone, quickly lowering the volume of the video, your loud, slutty moans and fucked out face clear as day. "P-please Sergeant, harder!"

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

What had started off as wholesome date night had turned into something else by the time Bucky had you alone in the compound. He'd struggled to keep his hand to himself all night with the dress you were wearing and it didn't help that the waiter at dinner shamelessly flirted with you the entire time. You didn't entertain it but it didn't stop the former assassin from growing jealous, itching to remind you who you belonged to by the end of the night.

You'd gone by the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the sight of you leaning over the counter to fill your cup was enough to break Bucky's resolve. His bedroom could wait.

"Princess" Bucky swallowed thickly hearing his voice dripping with possessiveness, watching himself cage you against the counter, purring in your ear. He could see you shiver as his lips trail up the column of your neck, preening as he licked your skin, pressing his achingly hard erection against your ass.

"B-Bucky" You whimpered, squeaking at the spank he gave you, clicking his tongue.

"Try again, baby"

"Sergeant Barnes" Your voice melted into a moan as he hummed, taking his time slipping your dress up over your hips to give himself a perfect view of your lacy covered cunt.

Bucky fully intended on deleting the video. He was going to highlight the section and get rid of it for good. He desperately tried to ignore the way his cock stirred the longer he watched, unable to tear his eyes off the way you were bent over the kitchen counter like such a good girl, waiting for him to do something.

"That's right. Your Sergeant" The clink of his belt hitting the floor made you whine. He wasn't interested in prepping you, no foreplay, this was pure possessiveness, every vein in his body itching to own you. "You're a little slut for your Sergeant, aren't you princess?"

"M'your slut" you nodded, gasping at the tear of your panties, the lacy material tossed to the side.

"Let me show I fuck my slut" Bucky didn't give you a second to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace, your hips bumping against the marble countertop.

"S-SERGEANT BAR-NES!-" Bucky slapped his hand over your mouth, your broken screams muffled against his palm.

"Take it" He growled, his other hand pressing against your shoulder blades, purely using you for his pleasure, "You love how your Sergeant fucks you, my perfect little slut, mine"

"Fuck Sergeant!!" You wailed while Bucky snaked his hand to circle your clit, his cock starting to leak at the way you tightened around him. You'd never looked prettier. Your makeup was ruined. Sweat covered your body. Your eyes rolled back. Bucky replayed that part of the video over and over again, finally giving into his heavy cock begging for attention. He gave himself a squeeze hoping it would calm him down but before he knew it, he'd pulled it out and started to tug, precum glistening at the head.

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

"Pleasepleaseplease-fill-me" you slurred, unable to form sentences while Bucky's grunts grw louder, his pace faltering.

"Gonna fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel me in your pussy for days princess" Bucky fucked you like an animal, eyes feral as he kept you caged under him, his heavy balls and hard cock ready to blow, "We'll go back to that restaurant. Have that same waiter try and talk to you while I drip out between your legs. Won't even let you wear panties baby, want you to make a mess on their chair, let them see where I marked you, fuck m'cumming!!"

Bucky tightly held the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watched himself pump you full, hips stuttering. He couldn't cum yet. Not when he knew what was coming up next. He watched himself pull out of you, cooing at your soft little whimper before decidedly acting like a deranged feral fuck again.

"Shhh, let your Sergeant clean you up again" He smirked, picking you up with 0 effort and setting you down on the counter, spreading your legs apart so he could lick up every bit of cum that dripped out of you, the most salacious sounds filling the room. He greedily lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning at the tasted of his spend mixed with yours, loving that no other man would get to taste something so good. No other man would get to watch their cum drip out of you after filling you past the brim. No other man would get to have you at your most sensitive, cleaning every bit of their cum off you with their face buried between their legs-

"F-fuck" Bucky whimpered, quickly biting his lip to shut himself up but it was no use. His chest heaved, breathy moans growing louder as he jerked himself faster. "Yes, yeah, shit-" Bucky was nearly whining at this point, his hand working at his sensitive cockhead, giving himself quick, hard strokes, "OH FUCKK" Thick ropes of cum spilled from his cock, a steady stream making a mess all over his sheets as he continued to touch himself, rewinding the video to the beginning. His hard cock wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

Maybe he wouldn't delete the video just yet.

Later in the groupchat:

Tony: Everyone, please don't check the kitchen footage from two days ago at exactly 1:04 to 1:38

Sam: Why would I check that in the first place

Nat: Wasn't planning on it

Steve: I don't know how to access the footage.

Tony: Trust me. None of you should check that exact time stamp.

Tony: 🙂

*a few minutes later after everyone obviously checked the footage*

Nat: Holy shit.

Sam: BARNES YOU DIRTY DOG

Nat: That's hot

Steve: Tony, I still can't access the footage.

Sam: YALL ARE NASTY

Steve: Who is nasty?

Sam: I love it though

Y/n: 😏He's the best sergeant

Sam: HAHAHA

Nat: You guys are so cute 🥺️🥺️

Bucky: I hate you all

Sam: What you gonna do about it Sergeant

-Bucky has left the chat-

Steve: Why did Bucky leave

[happy74827]

Joyride

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Remember kids, always look at the road when driving. It can help you avoid certain blabber mouths 🫶

WC: 2556

Category: Fluff, Annoying!Deadpool, 4th Wall Breaks, Insane Amounts of Profanity {TW: Deadpool (for obvious reasons)}

In honor of watching Deadpool 3 (super good btw), enjoy this random chaotic fic I created with the help of @yoursacredqueenmother. This is super chaotic lmfao

『••✎••』

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

A millisecond ago, you were driving down a street. In the middle of traffic. At a red light. Now, you were panicking, looking over the front of your car for the flash of red you had just seen. It took a couple of seconds for you to realize that there was blood on your car and on the ground—a lot of blood.

"Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

You quickly hopped out of the car, rushing to the spot you thought the person… or thing would be, but… there was nobody. There was blood on the ground but nobody.

Did you hit a deer, and it just… ran off? No, that can't be right. You definitely saw something red, and it most certainly was not a deer.

You looked around, confused. How the hell does something bleed all over the ground and then disappear without a trace?!

You got back in your car, deciding to drive to the closest police station. Maybe they knew something about this.

So, you decided to abandon the shortcut home and drive to the nearest police station, which happened to be just down the road. But as you were minutes into the drive, you felt the sudden urge to look in your rearview mirror.

And there you found your mysterious red-suited victim in the backseat, holding the biggest knife you have ever seen as his white-covered eyes stared at you from behind the mask.

You never hit the brakes faster in your life. The car made an ugly screeching sound, and the sudden force slammed the red-clad man into the back of your seat, making him let out a surprised yelp.

The car finally came to a stop, and the masked man recovered quickly, pushing himself off of your seat and glaring at you.

"Well, aren’t you just a heart break—"

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

You grabbed your keys from the ignition and popped off the attached pepper spray, turning around and squirting him in the face. He let out a scream, and you quickly got out of the car, shutting the door and running as fast as you could.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get very far. Despite being hit by a car, and subsequently getting pepper sprayed, the man (or what you assume to be) caught up with you and blocked your path, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side.

"Alright, lady, what the fuck?" He asked, his voice sounding nasally, most likely because of the spray.

You stared at him, confused. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation.

"W-What the fuck?! What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking a little. "What the fuck are you doing in my car?!"

"Well, I was trying to hitch a ride! But clearly, that didn't work out. Thanks a lot, by the way, for the pain and suffering. You’ve really opened up my horizons here."

It almost sounded like he was pouting.

"What the—! A ride?! Why in the hell would you just hop into someone's car?!"

"Uhh, because you ran me over, genius! I mean, come on, the least you could do is offer a guy a ride home after that. And then, the cherry on top of the fucking sundae: pepper spray!"

The masked man, so to speak, threw his arms up in the air, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes underneath the mask. Of course, that’s when you noticed the obvious broken bones in his hands. And the blood. There was a lot of blood.

"Look," the guy started, walking closer to you. "I know, I'm a big scary guy with a big scary knife and a bad temper and all, and you’re just… well, I’m sure you have an amazing personality, but how about we put all that aside, and you give me a ride, alright? Just drop me off at the corner of 10th and 55th, and you can forget this ever happened."

"You’re arm… your wrist. It's broken," you told him.

"Yeah, no shit," the man scoffed. "Got any Taylor Swift CDs in that car?"

"Uh… no, not really. Why?"

"Cause, baby, I’m Shaking It Off!"

There was a pregnant pause, and you weren't quite sure if he was being serious or not. I mean, surely he wasn’t about to just ignore the fact that his arm was the complete opposite of norm—

But when he shook his arm in a violent manner, and a loud crack followed suit, you realized, with a heavy heart, that yes, this guy was serious.

What you didn’t know until a few seconds later, however, was that he snapped his bones back into place like it was nothing. It took the flexing in his fingers to realize it, too.

"Holy shit." You truly were in awe.

He seemed to find amusement in your expression, tilting his head slightly and giving you a once-over. And, yes, you could feel his eyes on you, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So… Wendy Torrance, about that ride? Can you give me a lift, or are we gonna start that chick flick moment where your mental breakdown leads to slow-motion running to a Sia song?"

You could only stare.

"Alright, well, if you're going through with the latter, then at least play something that doesn’t involve that little dancing girl who likes to wear potato sacks as clothes."

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

"You are literally insane." You breathed out, shaking your head.

Even if you couldn’t see it, something told you that he made the biggest grin underneath his mask.

"Why, thank you, darling."

Fast forward a couple of minutes, and you found yourself driving towards the address the red-suited stranger had given you. You couldn’t really make conversation. He had his hands in his lap, playing with a knife, and was staring at you, his head tilted.

"You can blink, you know. I'm not a zombie," he informed you, making a gesture to his mask and eyes, which you assumed he was blinking underneath.

"Right," you nodded.

“Well, mostly, at least. I mean, I still have a pulse, but it's kind of irregular, and I think it's because I keep getting shot and stabbed in the heart. Oh, and I guess I'm also pretty much immortal, so that's probably the reason. But I think the whole not-dying thing cancels out the heartbeat thing, right? Like, the more times you get impaled or decapitated or set on fire, the more it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect you anymore, am I right?"

You glanced at him. He was staring at you, his hands still and his knife resting on his leg.

"…Do you ever shut up?"

"Woah-hoho, feisty. And here I thought I was going to break the ice with a good ol' fashioned knock knock joke."

"I don’t think that would've been funny."

"That's what the last girl said."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. Except she wasn’t talking about the joke. I made her laugh in a different way."

You glanced at him again, and he was giving you a knowing look.

"I can't decide if you're disgusting or not."

He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. That made him shut his mouth just long enough for you to turn on the radio but not long enough to avoid the inevitable.

"Hey, hey, I got a good one: Knock knock."

You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes. "Who's there?"

"Orange."

"Orange, who?"

"Orange you glad I'm not a serial killer?"

"That wasn’t even good."

"I know. It would've been better if I could've pulled the knife out of my belt. You know, just for show." He twiddled his fingers at you.

"That wouldn’t have helped," you said.

"Nope," he agreed. "But it would've made a great story."

"I suppose."

"Yeah. Hey, hey, I got another one: Knock knock."

"You just—"

"Knock knock."

You let out a huff. This man was the most childish, annoying, idiotic, strange, weird—

"Knock knock."

"Oh, just fucking tell me the joke!"

"No! It doesn't work that way!"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he beat you to it.

"Okay, okay, how about this: Knock knock."

You didn't say anything.

"Knock knock."

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second.

"Knock knock."

"For fucks sake!" You exclaimed. "Who's there?"

He leaned forward, closer to you, and you could see his mouth moving.

"Deadpool."

You were confused.

"D-Deadpool? Is this a reference to that shitty horror movie? If so, that wasn't even good, and I'm not laughing, and I don't get the joke."

He just gave you a blank look, or at least you thought he did.

"No. My name's Deadpool."

"That’s…" you trailed off. "A pretty dumb name. Like that outfit you're wearing."

"Hey! Diss the name all you want, but don’t you dare diss the suit. It's my trademark. Not everyone can pull off this type of look; it’s a very rare art."

"Whatever. You still haven't told me the punch line to your dumb joke."

"Punch line? I never said there was a punch line. It was a knock knock joke."

"So then… What was the point? To annoy the driver into wanting to run you over again?"

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated in his throat. That… That was… oh.

He was still close, and now, with the new angle, you could see the small, yet very visible, curve of his lips, and that made you wonder who was actually hiding behind the mask.

"You are seriously the strangest person I've ever met."

"Oh, babe, you don't even know the half of it."

"Please, enlighten me," you replied sarcastically, glancing over at him.

His masked eyes looked into yours, and you knew he was grinning; you could practically feel it.

"What do you wanna know?" He asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Something other than the fact that you're a nutcase. How about your real name? It's obviously not 'Deadpool,' and I doubt anyone actually calls you that. So, what's your actual name?"

"Oh, wow. Right off the bat, huh? You know, the last girl I was with wasn’t nearly as direct. Then again, she never sprayed me like I was a roach in her kitchen."

You didn’t respond. You kept your eyes on the road.

"Fine," he relented. "But don’t expect a happy ending. This isn’t Kanas anymore, Toto."

He leaned back in his seat, his arm hanging off the open window, the wind blowing through his red suit.

"Names Wade, like the boxers, but without the fancy pants."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Wade Winston Wilson, I love long walks on the beach, and a good movie, and tacos, and chimichangas, and guns. Especially guns. Kinky, but not too kinky… and did I mention the tacos? Cause I love fucking love tacos."

Maybe you should start carrying tape around.

"What about you, sugar lips?" He asked, gesturing to you with the hand he wasn’t leaning against. "Got a name, or can I call you mine? Ooh, I should’ve used that before the pepper spray. 'What's your name, or can I call you mine?' Classic, Wade. Well, except for the fact that I forgot the 'I'd like to hit it from the back' part. Damn, should have used that, too. It's a good thing they gave you the lead. Otherwise, the audience would've been confused. They would've been wondering, 'Why did the writer suddenly change the dialogue to be about sex? Wasn’t this supposed to be that pure Notebook love story we all wanted?'"

He paused for a moment.

"Wait a minute. Are we still doing the monologue thing, or is the writer done? Cause, no offense, but that was a shitty transition. And, come on, no one wants a Notebook love story anymore. Who writes those? What we need is a little romance and a whole lotta smut."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me? Nothing, just giving some feedback. I've always had an open relationship with writers. Some might even call me the next J.K Rowling. Except, instead of a lighting scar and magic, I have an ass load of weapons with an insatiable lust for violence and blood. And tacos."

You decided to ignore him.

"Anyway, back to you. You never answered my question. Do you have a name or not?"

"I can’t believe I actually agreed to give you a ride home."

"Yeah," he said, sounding bored. "Why did you do that?"

"I don’t know. Because I hit you with my car and felt bad? You had a broken arm and were bleeding out all over the ground."

"First sign of insanity."

"What?"

"Nothing," his mask wiggled around the area of his eyebrows. "So, your name? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pull out the classic yes and no abbreviations. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Spidey. It's easier, and it’ll sound sexier when you're screaming it later."

You rolled your eyes, deciding just to ignore his comments for the rest of the drive. You were wishing that you didn't live in a city full of traffic cause, damn, this was taking a while.

"Alright, turn here."

You followed the directions and pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. You didn't say anything, but you did raise an eyebrow in question.

"What? A guy like me has to keep his place secret, especially when the fangirls are after him."

"I didn’t ask."

"Yeah, but I saw you wondering."

"Right."

"Hey, Spidey," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Just make sure to keep your ass away from car bumpers. And out of my car."

"Awe, come on, baby cakes, don't be like that. You're really missing out. My ass is the finest in the business. Not to mention my package. You should see the reviews I get online."

You snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, you will," he said, leaning over and patting your cheek. "Hey, if you ever get lonely, or bored, or horny, or whatever, just give me a call. Here," he handed you a crumpled piece of paper. "Don't lose it, that's my number. We should totally bang, like, tomorrow, or tonight, or right now."

"Goodbye, Wade," you said, and he took it as his cue to leave. He gave a silly salute and exited the car, but not without giving you a wink first.

"See you soon, Spidey!"

With that, he walked up to the building and disappeared inside. With a sigh, you collapsed into the seat, not even bothering to watch him. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep.

After a couple of minutes of relishing the nice breeze that came through the open windows, you sat up and un-crinkled the paper.

The only thing written on it was a phone number, with a small, messy, red heart and a few words that honestly had you questioning the sanity of the world:

'If you're lucky, maybe I'll even let you top. ;)'

——

Spoiler alert: it took about a month for the two of you to hook up.

And no, you did not have Domino’s luck.

[techwrecker]

Handful of Roses

Summary: It’s you and Logan’s anniversary and he can’t even be bothered to show up. You’re left alone, wondering where he could possibly be.

Genre: Angst ⇒ Fluff

Tags: SFW, minor swearing, angst & fluff (duh), fem!reader, no use of y/n, reader calls logan bub sarcastically, logan is still a mutant, sickeningly sweet ending,

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: "Logan forgets a special event? Angst to fluff. Maybe a birthday, anniversary or special date night."

A/N: Tysm for the request! I really hope you enjoy it!

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @saradika (tysm!)

The congealed pasta slid into the trash bin with a solid thud. Hours of your hard work gone to waste.

Tonight you and Logan were supposed to be celebrating your one year anniversary. When you suggested the idea to Logan, he wasn’t too keen on going out to a fancy restaurant, so you compromised by promising to fix him something at home. You had made him swear he would be home by 7 to eat. You wanted him for the evening— all to yourself.

And yet.

You checked the time on the stove— 8:45 p.m. You had half a mind to lock Logan out. If he was going to break his promises, you were going to make him pay the price for it. Your heels clattered against the floor as you made your way to the front door. Just as you were about to turn the deadbolt, a tiny piece of your heart shot a plea of forgiveness through you. You hesitated, weighing the pros and cons.

On one hand, Logan deserved exactly what he had coming. You wanted to drive home your frustration. If he wanted to act like an animal, then he could sleep in the dog house.

But then again, staying in the house alone made you nervous. The house you shared was out in the middle of the woods and your mind tended to run wild with dangerous scenarios at the slightest sound. Usually, Logan was home before dark to protect you from your overactive imagination.

You decided to be nice to him. Especially since the rain was really coming down outside and storms made you nervous. And despite how angry you were with Logan, you didn’t want him to come down with anything.

You withdrew your hand from the door. The figure-hugging dress you had put on just for him was starting to scratch at your skin. This was the last straw. You let the plates clatter into the sink, not caring if they shattered or not and stormed off to the bedroom to find your fuzziest pajamas.

You gathered the pajamas and a towel and headed to the shower, turning the temperature gauge as hot as you could stand. You hoped the boiling temperature would take your mind off the disappointment Logan left you alone with.

Unfortunately, as soon as the water had saturated your hair, and turned your skin a flaming red, you burst into tears. You sat down in the bottom of the tub, wrapping your arms around your folded body to console yourself. Salty tears mixed with the water for some time. You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed since you had gotten in, but your fingers had already pruned by the time you calmed down enough to stand up again.

You knew Logan cared about you, so why did he have to forget stuff like this? It was important to you— you wanted it to be important to him, too. Your life was sucky before he came into it. Was it really too much to ask for him to acknowledge the wins with you? For a man who had walked the earth for over 200 years, a one year anniversary is probably just a drop in the bucket. But to you, it meant the world.

You turned off the water and toweled off. The vibrations of the front door slamming closed shook the walls.

“Hello?” You heard Logan’s voice call out. “Y’home, darlin’?”

You nonchalantly dried your sopping hair a few seconds longer before pulling on your pajamas. You wanted to make him sweat a little. Logan’s footsteps were thudding about the house, looking for you. You waited in the bathroom, arms crossed.

After a few more minutes, a gentle knock sounded against the door.

“You in there?” His voice was soft and tender. It was the voice he used whenever he pleaded cutely for hugs and kisses. Your expression softened out of habit. Not fair.

Your mind brought you back to reality. His manipulative tactic only fueled your anger. You ripped the door open. “Yes, Logan. I-“

Logan’s appearance cut your spiel short. He was filthy. Sloppy mud was splattered from his boots to the chest of his t-shirt, his jacket was soaked through, and his face was covered in dark grease— a giant, walking contrast to your soft, pink appearance. He extended his arm to you, a wilted and nearly bare bouquet of roses in his fist. His forlorn expression reflected the misfortune of his appearance. You almost felt sorry for him.

“Before you say anything,” he rushed out. “I want to tell you that I can’t apologize enough, darlin’. These are f’r you.”

“What the hell happened?” The hot tears threatened to well up again. “You were supposed to be here hours ago,” you said, shakily.

“I know, I know. The goddamn pickup quit on me after work tonight. Nobody in town had the part I needed.” He paused, expecting you to cut in. You kept silent and let him continue his excuse. “I had to walk home in the friggin’ storm.” He raised his arms in exasperation.

It explained why he was late, but not why he was absolutely covered in mud. At most, his boots would have been caked.

You jutted your chin out, gesturing to his mud-covered body. “And that? You’re gonna be late and track mud through my clean house?”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” He looked down at the floor, avoiding your eyes.

You crossed your arms and set your expression in a slight frown. It was difficult to be intimidating in pink, fuzzy pajamas and slippers, but you did your best anyways. “Try me.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly embarrassed. “I slipped.”

“What do you mean, ‘you slipped’?”

“On the walk home. Tripped on a tree root and fell face first. I tried savin’ the flowers but…” He let the twiggy bouquet speak for itself.

You thought for a moment. It was difficult to imagine your stoic Logan tripping on anything, much less falling into mud and trying to save delicate roses in the process. A tiny smile crept onto your lips. You took the few flowers that were left out of his hands and took a whiff. Logan visibly relaxed his shoulders as you accepted his gift.

“I figured once my truck is up’n’runnin’, we could go out to celebrate instead.”

You lit up, eyes jumping from the roses to meet his gaze. “Oh, Logan! You mean it?”

“‘Course, darlin’. How else ‘m I supposed to make it up to my favorite girl?”

How were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that? His deep hazel eyes contained nothing but devotion for you with a smile sweet as honey.

“I guess I’ll make an exception— just this once,” You gave in to his appeal.

He made a move to envelop you in a hug, but he was met with your index finger pressed to his chest before he could wrap his dripping, disgusting arms around you.

“Nuh-uh. I don’t think so, bub. You gotta get cleaned up before you come any closer.”

He looked down at the clothes sticking to his body. “Oh— right.”

You sidestepped around him, giving him a wide berth trying to avoid touching the mess of a man. He left the door open as he peeled the clothes from his body. He had no shame about his body and you didn’t mind one bit. Making your way to the kitchen, you found a delicate glass vase under the sink. It fit the handful of roses nicely. Despite the rough journey, the roses that did make it out were somehow still perfectly picturesque.

The roses reminded you of your relationship with Logan. It’s not exactly like he was the easiest person to live with. In fact, you had bought more sheets in the past year than you ever had in your entire life. His nightmares could get awfully terrible. You would hop out of bed and run to the other side of the room— not because you were scared of him. But because you knew he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, even unconsciously. It was one of the little ways you were able to try and protect him— by protecting yourself.

But when you were with him, it was hard to imagine being anywhere else. Logan adored you. Every fiber in his being did everything it possibly could to please you. You knew he would always love you.

The shower shut off, hazy steam rolling from the bathroom into the hall. You pulled out a bag of popcorn to make while Logan got dressed. As the kernels began to pop, you heard his heavy footsteps carry him to the bedroom. The opening and shutting of drawers told you he was about finished up.

You were monitoring the popcorn when now-clean Logan wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Hiya, darlin’.” His voice was low and relaxed. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and nuzzled into your neck. His soapy scent somehow made him more attractive.

“Hi baby,” you said, bringing your hand up to caress the side of his head. His hair was still damp, but you didn’t mind. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you today.”

“I miss you every day,” he said into the crook, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He lifted his face to meet your gaze.

You tilted your head to give him a gentle kiss, lips tenderly pressing together. His scratchy facial hair grazed your face. The sensation kept you grounded— reminded you that he was real and he loved you.

He cupped your face, turning you toward him slightly. He searched your eyes and found only love in them.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” He pulled you tight against his chest, letting his strong arms swathe you in his adoration. “I love you.”

You melted into him. What would you ever do without your Logan?

“I love you too, Logan.”

Taglist: @arthurcerverogf @gdsvhtwa vwa @rosiahills22 @lonewolflupe

Join the taglist! || AO3 || Thanks for reading!

[appocalipse]

the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you say in a deliberately casual tone. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 

But you were so wrong. 

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 

“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 

“I can do it myself!” 

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 

He was good at it. 

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 

God, he must be big. 

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.” 

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 

“I do.” 

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 

“Good fucking girl.” 

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 

You both felt how close you were. 

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[munsster]

sharing a bed (trope bingo)

A/N: i could melt (pun not intended. you’ll see) this trope is literally my fav, all my fics would be about it if i could… (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You're cold, Bucky's a living heater. Need I say more? 1.2k words

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, sharing a bed, cuddling, nervous/borderline horny Bucky, pet names (doll, sweetheart)

You should have made this decision before your fingertips went numb. November in a northern motel room found you freezing. In basketball shorts and a crewneck, no less. You should have been in California by now, but Bucky has been dragging his feet since Maine. Though, he does drive more than half the time, so it's a sacrifice you had been willing to take.

There's no snow on the ground, but you can feel the beginnings of it on the damp pavement. Your socks are soaked through, and you cringe making a mental note to burn them. You cross your arms over your chest and tuck your fingers under your armpits, jaw clacking as you shiver. The heater in your room scuttled hurriedly to a wheezing stop five minutes after whacking it alive.

Now you're shifting from left to right outside Bucky's door with your blood about to run purple. He hollered something through the door when you knocked the second time. It was either a it's unlocked or a don't come in and you don't trust your hearing enough to distinguish between the two at midnight.

"Bucky," you whine, resting your forehead just below the peephole and trying to shake the low beating sound from your ears. You lift your head. Footsteps then a rattling chain, and he whips the door open.

"Why are you up?"

"What?" How could he be annoyed right now when you're freezing your ass off and you can practically feel the heat rolling out of his room in waves. "I'm cold."

"Well... what am I supposed to do about that?"

You roll your eyes and glare up at him. You could swear he's doing it on purpose. You could swear he's making mental bets just to play with you. Right now he's betting all his cash on who'll crack first. His bet's on you. It always is.

"James, I swear to fucking God—I will walk back to Brooklyn if you don't—"

"Jesus, don't have an aneurism, doll. Come in," he mumbles. You follow him into the little square motel room: one bed, one table, half a bathroom. Plus a TV that only plays soaps and, half the time, crackles with static. The door shuts, and you sigh. You're swaddled by heat; the blood gushes back into the tip of your nose. You can feel your joints again.

"Take this." He tosses a coat at you. At you. It's heavy and green and thick. It's army grade. "Put it on." So you put it on and zip it up. He chuckles at the sight of you because the jacket is massive: down to your knees, quarter-foot past your fingertips. It dwarfs you. It's incredible.

"I feel like a gym teacher."

"What?"

"It's a... mm… nevermind," you hum, "'M tired." Your eyes sink shut, and he watches you from the bed, entertained by your sleep-standing act. For a second, he thinks you're actually gonna fall asleep like that. But then your eyes snap wide open and he looks away.

Bucky shuffles under the sheets, and you watch him curiously through the window of the coat's hood. You suppose you'd missed the fact that he's wearing only boxers, completely shirtless with his cropped hair messily flared around his head. You start to sweat.

He looks up when you whine. "What now?"

"... It's hot."

"You're killin' me, doll."

"I know, I'm sorry," you huff, hands fiddling the flannel insides of the hot jacket sleeves. He watches you struggle to glance at the floor and becomes flush with pity for you. He sighs.

"Alright, hon, take that off and c'mere. We'll get you warm, hmm? Come here."

You flail your arm before latching onto the metal zipper tab and tugging it down with a hissing bzzzz. Bucky watches you relax and let the coat slump to the floor before you peel your socks off and toss them in the small metal trashcan by the door. You pad your way to the empty side of the bed and pat the moth-eaten comforter a few times, smoothing your hand over the soft cotton.

"Don't be shy now. I probably won't bite," he teases.

"You piss me off, Barnes."

"Oh, feel free to freeze your ass off in your room, sweetheart. I'm doin' you a favor."

You harrumph and swing your legs onto the mattress, sliding yourself under the sheets and tucking the blankets under your chin. You face the door, and Bucky settles in beside you, leaving a comfortable six inches of space between you. He faces the wall.

"Night, Bucky."

"Goodnight."

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and you don't know when Bucky got so close. Or when you turned around. What you do know is that Bucky runs red hot in the middle of the night. Or maybe all the time, but you've never been skin-to-skin in the day. Hell could freeze over and Bucky would still be an inferno.

Sometime between two and three, you tossed around and ended up facing him as he crept closer unconsciously. His hands felt empty in dreams about dancing, so he reached into the darkness and tucked his fingers into the crooks of your knees to draw you into his warm body. On instinct—and because you're still in need of thawing—you curl into him and let your heart beat comfortably alongside his.

Bucky's a talker. He's a vocal sleeper. Good thing his deal was talking. Becca got saddled with sleep walking, and he remembers Ma asking him to install an extra lock high up to keep her from wandering out at twilight. Again. They'd found her mumbling at a brick wall half a block away one night and decided it was for the best.

Now he's rambling on about goats, describing their rough coats as he nuzzles into your navel. His palm spread over your back, he keeps you close, taut to every bit of his body, your leg draped over his waist.

He moans. Loud. And you shift in your sleep, fingers moving to cup the back of his head, brushing through his soft hair. His scalp is hot, and you sigh lazily as you melt further into his tight skin and smooth muscle. If either of you had woken up, it would've been a bloodbath. But for now, it's peaceful, and a dove coos from a lamppost outside.

A couple of times, you open your eyes but find yourself so disoriented, you can't bother to assume it's anymore than a dream and pass out again. At the crack of dawn, Bucky's lashes flutter open, and each of his veins flows with new life and the rising sun. It takes a second for him to realize he's breathing in the warmth of your skin. And he doesn't hate it.

He falls back asleep.

In the morning, you're both too busy adjusting to central standard time to register that you'd been pressed up close and personal all night. Too busy to acknowledge the comfort you both found in each others arms. And hands.

Over breakfast at the twenty-four-hour diner, he smiles meekly, and you blink down at your short stack like nothing happened. Like nothing ever will.

marvel masterlist

[nastybuckybarnes]

Car Rides

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Road trips are usually pretty boring, but you and Bucky find a way to pass the time.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Car sex, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining,

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: I got this request AGES ago apparently and I'm only just seeing it now! hope y'all enjoy!

~*~

"Can you move your seat up?"

There's a brief pause, almost like Sam's thinking about it, before - "no."

Silence hangs heavily in the car for a long moment as Steve drives and you can't help but feel bad for Bucky.

He's squished in behind Sam, While you've got a decent amount of room behind Steve.

"We can switch, if you want?" You offer quietly, nudging Bucky's knee with yours.

"Steve's not stopping the car just so Terminator can feel more comfortable," Sam interjects, ignoring the ice of Bucky's stare.

"I'm sure we can switch spots while he's driving. We've done far more on missions with less room, I have faith. Unbuckle your seatbelt."

"Yes ma'am."

You take off your own seatbelt, ignoring Steve's warning look in the rearview mirror.

"Okay, I'm gonna climb over you in the middle seat so when you scoot over I'll climb over and then we'll be set!"

Foolproof! Brilliant!

Bucky scoots over to the middle and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, then grab his shoulders and stretch one leg over his lap.

Steve chooses that particular moment to hit a bump in the road, sending you tumbling into Bucky and forcing his face into your chest.

Your shirt of choice today is fairly low cut, leaving little to the imagination, even less now that Bucky's face is pressed to your goods.

Regaining your coordination feels like it takes a lifetime, but you eventually manage to pry your boobs out of Bucky's face and plop down in the seat behind Sam.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you avoid looking at Bucky with all your might as you put your seatbelt on.

It's no secret that there's tension between the two of you that has only been growing the more time you spend together, but now? Now that you pretty much forced him to motorboat you?

Horrible. Stupid. The worst idea you've ever had ever.

You almost pray for the car to roll off a cliff to save you from the embarrassment licking up your spine.

The ride is silent for a little while, with some of Sam's music being the only thing stopping it from being too heavy, and soon his soft snores accompany the tunes.

After maybe about half an hour, Bucky's knee brushes against yours once briefly, then rests against it more firmly, with purpose.

Your gaze darts over to him but he's got his eyes focused out the window. You let your eyes fall to where he's manspreading into your personal space, and freeze when your eyes land on the bulge in his pants.

The bulge that certainly was not there before the two of you switched spots, not that you looked.

And now you can't tear your eyes away from it.

Sure, all this time the two of you have been flirty and a little more than friendly, but never to this extent.

Your eyes raise to his face once more and your heart stops for a moment when you meet his gaze.

You're caught now.

Swallowing hard, you glance at his crotch once more then turn to look out your own window, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt at fighting the warmth that's quickly spreading.

Bucky rolls his window down, and the light mechanical whirring sound masks the soft gasp that leaves you when his hand lands on your thigh.

You glance down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers flex as he squeezes your supple flesh.

Your body acts on its own, thighs spreading slightly and giving him the green light he needs to slide his hand up closer to your centre.

Eyes focused on the rearview mirror, you slowly grab Bucky's discarded jacket and drape it over your lap while spreading your legs further, successfully hiding his fingers as they dust over your core.

"Cold?" He asks, glancing at you as he slides his hand down your pants.

You swallow hard and nod, leaning back and breathing through your mouth as he slides a thick finger through your folds.

"With the window open it's a little breezy, but the fresh air is nice," you whisper, breath hitching when he rubs your clit gently.

He nods his agreement, coating his middle finger in your essence then slowly pushing it inside of you.

"Clears the head."

You nod, eyes falling shut as he begins a steady pace, pushing on your walls deliciously slow.

"Exactly," the words are a mere breath on your lips as you lose yourself in the feeling of him.

He leans his head back, his eyes focused on your face as he massages your walls, pulling his finger out only to push two right back in.

He watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you try your hardest to stay quiet through the slow building pleasure.

It's almost torturously slow, and he knows that, but watching your small twitches and movements has Bucky's dick growing hard enough to cut diamonds.

"We got a good day for this, huh?" Bucky asks, grinning when you struggle to open your eyes.

"Yeah it's... good... it's really good," you whisper, eyelids fluttering slightly before you finally raise your glassy eyes to his.

"I could go for a snack soon though, something sweet to eat."

"Mhmm," you let out a soft moan of agreement as he slips a third finger inside you, pumping them in and out at a slightly faster speed than before.

Not fast enough to draw attention to the two of you, but fast enough for you to be struggling to keep still.

"Next gas station isn't too far out. They probably won't have much but we can stop there to grab a snack and stretch," Steve's voice says from the front seat, his eyes glancing at you and Bucky in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"Sounds good to me," Bucky says, his voice low and his mischievous eyes focused on you as you nod your agreement.

You dig your head back into the headrest, toes curling in your shoes as his palm rubs against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of your wet heat.

He stretches your walls deliciously, enhanced senses picking up the tangy sweet smell of your cunt on every gust of wind that blows through the car.

He can't help but lick his lips, greatly looking forward to tasting you once he's finished enjoying fingering your tight snatch.

Eyes slowly opening, you let your head roll to the side eyes finding his as you breathe softly through your mouth.

He grins cheekily at you and stuffs his fingers inside of you a little harder, watching in smug satisfaction when your face screws up with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

The car slowly rolls to a stop and Steve lets out a groan.

"All right. I'm gonna stretch my legs and grab a snack. Are you guys coming in?" Steve's eyes find Bucky's as he opens the door.

Sam jolts upright with a groan, rubbing his face then yawning and pulling off his seatbelt.

"I'm gonna come inside," He says groggily, stumbling out of the car and stretching.

"I think we're good back here, she's falling asleep," Bucky whispers, giving your clit a particularly rough rub before pulling his fingers out of you.

Sam and Steve head into the gas station, and as soon as they are out of sight Bucky is tossing the jacket off of your lap and yanking your pants down your legs.

He licks his fingers clean while using his other hand to undo his belt and shuck his pants down his thighs, exposing his weeping hot cock.

"We don't have much time, sweetheart, better make it count. N'when we get to the cabin I'll fuck you nice and slow and proper," he promises quietly.

You straddle his waist once more, wet core dripping onto his lap and Bucky can't help but hiss when he slides his aching cock through your folds.

He rubs your clit a few times then slides inside in one quick thrust, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow the sound of your moan.

With the window open, you guys aren't exactly safe. Anyone could drive or walk by and Sam and Steve will likely only be gone for a few minutes.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby... shit..."

His voice is strained as you begin rocking your hips in his lap, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his cock drags across your g-spot.

Rather than let you have your fun, he flips you onto your back in the back seat of the car and hammers his hips down to meet yours, his lips trailing over your throat as you moan softly at the new angle.

He's hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and kissing your cervix with every other roll of his hips.

The pleasure and pain mix and make your head foggy, and it doesn't take long for your toes to curl around Bucky's hips and your climax to creep up on you.

Metal fingers toy with your clit with expert precision, and within only a few moments, your walls are clamping down around him and successfully milking him of his cum.

He lets out a few shuddering breaths as his own orgasm washes over him, balls tight as he pumps you full of ropes and ropes of thick white cum.

His head rests on your chest for a moment, breathing you in as he basks in his high, and then he's carefully pulling out of you and yanking his pants back on.

You, on the other hand, are stuck on your back as aftershocks wrack your frame.

Chuckling softly at his handy work, Bucky helps you back into your pants then pulls you up into his arms.

You collapse against his chest when he leans back against the door, cuddled in his arms as much as you can in the cramped backseat of the car.

He holds you gently, his own eyes closing as he relaxes into his post orgasmic bliss with you.

Your heart is racing even minutes later when Sam and Steve return to the car, each climbing in quietly when they see the two of you curled up together.

Steve sets a grocery bag full of snacks and drinks down on the floor in the backseat, then turns the music on quietly and starts driving, oblivious to what's just gone on.

As he drives you settle against Bucky, falling asleep gently while his load drips out of your swollen cunt. A mess he plans on thoroughly cleaning up as soon as you reach your destination.