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takenbypeter · 2 days ago

Text

Touch Starved

Bob Reynolds x reader

Words: 1949

Prequel: Sweater

“Finally almost home,” you muttered relaxing into your cushion. You thought the engine of the jet covered your words but you thought wrong.

“Calm down. You act like you’ve never been on a week-long mission before.” John said from the pilot’s seat.

You frowned at the back of the super soldier’s head.

“Well excuse me for being happy to get back home, and finally sleep in an actual bed.”

“I suppose that’s not all you’re happy about,” spoke Ava, causing you to turn your attention to her.

Your mouth hung a bit open as you spotted Bucky smirking a bit to himself, despite pretending to sleep.

“What?” You asked.

Ava shook her head, her lips curving downwards, “nothing.” You leaned back in your chair satisfied that the conversation seemed over but Ava wasn’t done yet. “Just talking about how you and Bob are going to see each other and have that puppy dog expression on your faces before you run into each other’s arms and melt into a pile of gushy sweetness.”

“Ha. Ha. We don’t do that.”

“Right. You two only stare into each other's sparkling eyes right before the earth’s pull gravitates your bodies together into a hug,” John shouted from his seat.

“Shut up John.”

There, now that was the end of that. But once again you were wrong. This time it was Bucky who added, “just do me a favor and wait till after I leave the room to be mushy please.”

“Okay you know what? I’m done.” You raised your hands, fingers straight and palms facing you as you slowly brought them together to meet in front of your face. “This is me closing the doors. I’m in another room, I can’t hear anything you guys are saying anymore.” You said before leaning back and crossing your arms.

Were you and Bob dating? No. Were you guys touchy feely? Sometimes…okay, a lot of times, but you reasoned that to be what could be explained as comfort touch. A touch to bring comfort, calm, and relaxation.

Despite you trying to persuade yourself you knew that there was more to it than that. But you weren’t about to admit that to the team.

You sat with your arms crossed the whole ride until you arrived at the Watchtower.

Upon entering the new avengers common area you were immediately first drawn to a smell. Turning your head you spotted Yelena who was working on something that smelled absolutely fantastic.

“Hey,” she said, seeing your eyes on her. “That smells great,” you commented, pulling up a chair while the others scattered about. Bucky left to go take a shower while John and Ava sat on the sofa finally getting a chance to relax.

“Can I try it?” You asked and she passed the pan and a fork over to you. Taking one bite you immediately closed your eyes and sighed content. “That is the good stuff Yelena! Can you please make me some too?” You begged and she was already smiling, “already working on it.”

“I love you,” you say voice genuine. That’s when you glanced around suddenly realizing someone important wasn’t by your side, not that he had to be.

“Where’s Bob?” You asked eyes on the food that was still cooking.

Yelena pointed across the room to Bob’s chair that faced the open view window.

Your eyebrows furrowed confused. He was there, but he didn’t greet you? That wasn’t like him. I mean it’s not like you were expecting it, except for the fact that you were.

Curious, you walked over to his chair. “Bob?” The brunette turned to you for the first time since you’ve gotten there.

A surprised look came over him as he nonchalantly looked at you, “oh hey, how’d the mission go?”

“It was good…just glad to be home.” He made no motion of standing up, no motion of reaching out, no further questions. That was it.

“How about you, how are you doing?”

He smiled and it seemed genuine. “Fine, why do you ask?”

You shook your head, “no reason. Um, I’m going to go clean up, I’ll see you later then.”

“See you,” he said, his book capturing his attention again. You kept your eyes on him taking a few steps backwards before leaving.

That was not what you were expecting…at all. He was always there to greet you as soon as you entered, wrapping his arms around you. Warming you up with his tight embrace.

Okay so you may have been a bit touch starved and he may have been solving that issue a teeny tiny bit. But now…nothing.

And while you weren’t expecting something huge, still, the Bob you knew would ask about the mission, see if you were injured, and offer to help in any way he can. This wasn’t what you were used to.

But you left it alone for now.

After getting yourself prepped for the rest of the day where you could just relax, you head back to the kitchen to finish what Yelena had made from earlier. This time it was just Bob in the space still reading while he sipped on his straw.

Placing your food on a plate you went to his side again. “You’ve just been reading all day?”

“Yup,” was all he said, his eyes never leaving the pages.

It was quiet then. You didn’t say anything else and neither did he. You weren’t sure if he was in a bad mood or what. When you had asked Yelena though she said he was fine when she talked to him.

“I was thinking of watching that movie later, the one we talked about. Wanna watch with?”

“Actually I have plans with Alexei later.”

“Oh,” you tried not to sound too disappointed as you stuffed a forkful of food into your mouth. “Well I’m sure you two will have lots of fun,” you smiled doing your best to not sound passive aggressive.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t lose your appetite.

Standing up with your plate you head back towards the kitchen.

You weren’t upset. You didn’t really have a right to be. All he was doing was not hanging out with you. And it was good that he spent time with the others. Yeah, this was good.

Marching over to the kitchen you covered your plate before setting it back into the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

You were heading out the door when you decided, no. You were not going to be passive about this, you were going to be upfront and just talk to him. So you spun right on your heel and charged back over to him.

“I’m sorry, did I do something to upset you? Did I say something weird, or triggering?” Your tone wasn’t defensive but rather sincere. You would never want to do anything to trigger him knowing what he’s been through and how he deals with his trauma.

As soon as you asked the first question his book was closed and for once he’s given you his full attention since you’ve arrived. “Of course not.”

“Okay. Then what is it? I mean I come here after days and you don’t even come and say hi? And I know—I KNOW, it’s stupid of me but I needed that welcome home hug. It’s just a good feeling knowing that someone cares about the fact that I’m actually still alive.”

Your voice was rising a bit at this point and you hated it. You felt like a child throwing a tantrum because you got denied a sweet treat in a candy shop, but you’ve gone too far to come back down. “Alexei has been here this whole time and you’re spending time with him over me? I mean that’s fine. No, it’s good you’re spending time with other people I just—I don’t know!” You sighed heavily, calming yourself as you did so. Because honestly you did know. You knew exactly why you were feeling like this.

Your eyes left his and were naturally drawn to the floor, “are you trying to put boundaries up? I mean that’s perfectly fine, we’re not a thing or anything so why would it even matter? But ugh, this is why feelings are too complicated because I guess it does matter to me.”

“Woah,” Bob scrambled to stand up, meeting your level. You expected him to just talk to you but instead he brought you close and draped his arms around you, fully encapsulating you in his hold.

All the embarrassment from your feelings, all the soreness from your mission, it all disappeared once his arms were around you.

“This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not,” you said, voice muffled against the sweater on his chest, “I should’ve put up boundaries, when this whole thing started.”

“No,” he paused, “I don’t want us to have boundaries, that's the thing.”

This being the first time you heard anything about this you separated yourself so you can look at him.

“While you were gone Alexei offered me advice on how to ‘move your heart’ is how he said it.”

“Move my heart?”

He was quiet, hesitant to continue. “I wanted to, I guess get you to like me, like really like me. It’s silly I know but I have feelings for you and I’ve been trying to shove them down but I mean you know how that is for me. So I was trying to get you to like me and Alexei told me that women don’t like it when men bombard them like I have, and are always around and he told me I should lay off for a bit.”

“Wait,” you raised a hand stepping back from him, “and you took his advice?”

“It made sense in the moment. Or maybe I was just so desperate to get you to like me.”

“Aww Bob,” your hand reached up landing on his cheek which he immediately pressed into. You wouldn’t believe how much he missed this. The feel of your hold, the sound of your voice. It was driving him nuts not having these the past week.

His hand came up wrapping around your wrist as his eyes closed, taking in your touch. It seemed like you weren’t the only one who was touch starved.

“You don’t have to move my heart. I already like you.”

His eyes opened at your words. “You do?”

Your other hand reaches out to take his empty one and you begin to rub calming circles against his skin.

“I wouldn’t do any of this if I didn’t.”

His lips tugged at you and you did the same, the only thing interrupting the moment being the sound of the door opening.

“Oh! What is this? Finally the two birds have become the two lovebirds,” Alexei’s voice rang out and instantly you scowled at the man. “I am going to hurt you,” you growled.

“What? What? Plan worked, no?”

“Alexei! You have five seconds to leave,” he frowned and grumbled under his breath before leaving.

“I swear I’m going to kill that man.”

“…he did help,” came out of Bob’s mouth and you turned your attention back to him, your expression softening.

“But we could’ve avoided the confusion if we just talked so his advice didn’t help.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, placing your arms around his waist as he pulled you in again.

You nestled in, holding him tight with your eyes closed and pressing your face against the material of his clothing.

“Mmm I love this sweater, it’s so fluffy,” you mumbled, causing Bob’s mouth to curl upwards a bit. He knew wearing this sweater would be worth it.

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mooncleaver · 1 month ago

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Love's Quiet Surrender

To love without judgement, without the need to change him. Not just whenever he makes you laugh or smile, but all of his darkness. His past, his anger, his sadness. You do not desire for him to become someone else because you understand that he is enough as he is. "You can be anything you want and I'd still be here to love you." It was your promise, sealed with a gentle kiss on his lips.

�� pairing: bucky barnes x wife!reader

ღ warnings: maaybe steamy and also sad, small thunderbolts spoilers, writing errors soooorry

"Buck?"

Your voice echoes in the warmly lit apartment. It's just some minutes past midnight, and in the air a gentle thrum permeates. A kind of stillness filled with exhaustion and comfort at the same time.

"Yes, baby?" Bucky answers almost immediately.

Even though he calls out from your bedroom, you can hear the fatigue beneath his tone. It's almost unnoticeable—he always tries to be put together whenever he talks to you and you hate it—but years of being by his side made you a whisperer or his tell tale signs. From the low lilt of his voice to the slight slur at the end of his sentence, you're no stranger to when Bucky needs to sleep.

Your husband had arrived home late today, presumably working on the whirlwind that was impeaching Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. He comes home disheveled these days, hair tousled with an aching frown on his lips—one you always try to kiss away. You can tell that this is all weighing down on him. The pressure, the bureaucracy, the slinking around your words to be sharp and polite at the same time. And the damn paperwork. It was endless. You don't think you've ever seen this much paper lying around your home and it was the 21st century.

Amongst all the papers and packets that your husband has very much not read yet, you he's been making talks to Valentina's assistant, Mel. He told you about what happened at the gala, how he attempted to convince her to switch sides. Did it go the way he expected? Mm, sort of?

It was endearing, in a way. Bucky always tried to be earnest, though sometimes it's difficult for him to spell out the right words—the right cues. You felt bad for the pout he sent your way as you giggled at his retelling. It took a few words and some kisses to convince him that he was not that awkward, and that you were sure Mel would give him something at least. The way Valentina was moving right now, there was bound to be a reason.

The man had since retired to your bedroom after some heavy coaxing. Bucky was adamant on staying out to help you clean up (he felt guilty for dropping chili sauce on your precious counters), but you didn't let him continue his sentence, knowing just how tired he was. You ushered him back, promising to join the man with an extra minute of head scratches if he followed your words. That seemed to do it, as he finally made his way to the bedroom with a small chuckle echoing.

While you were wiping down the counters, your eyes glanced towards Congressman Gary's dossier on de Fontaine. Less than the actual words on the paper, you focused on the mush of red staining the pristine white. You shook your head at the sight. Unfortunately, you don't think you've ever seen your husband finish a packet from top to bottom.

Not knowing what to do with it, you decide to just ask him. Though you think he’ll most likely tell you to throw it and every other coming packet down the trash, seeing how things are going now.

While trekking your way to him, you can hear him shuffling around in your bed, no doubt leaning onto it for a semblance of support.

When you finally arrive at your destination, the sight that greets you is nothing less than breathtaking—you say this to just about anything that Bucky does.

He's now dressed only in his white tank, evidence of the previous chili-dog accident thrown away into the laundry basket (to which he later promises to scrub it out, of course). He's got his legs spread and was, just as you had thought, leaning back on his arms against the bed. This angle lets you stare at the up and down motion of his breathing, the muscles flexing with tension. And God if this were any other night, you'd take him right then and there.

Once you're finally satisfied with your ogling—which you purposely timed in a way that lets your husband know it was much more than a simple glance—you finally speak.

"You left your packet on the counter. Didn't know if you wanted me to put it away 'cuz of the stain on it or…"

You trail off, giving him a sheepish smile as you leaned against the door with your arms crossed. Bucky's whole body just falls at the mention of the packet, his metal arm running a hand through his hair in quiet frustration. He looks done with it. It's like he's fighting the sleep right out of his eyes, and the dim bedside lamps don't help as it only accentuates a certain gauntness in his skin. Goddamn, he was trying to real hard here, but there was always an itch at the thought of only relying on the legal system. Valentina was a cunning and powerful woman. Bucky just couldn't see how a packet would overturn her entirely.

Without opening his eyes, his hand pats the top of his thigh, and you are compelled to follow that rhythm. You take quick but quiet steps to close the distance, finding yourself standing in between his legs while your hands fall on his broad shoulders. You're careful when you place your right hand down where his skin meets metal. Though he says it doesn't hurt as much as it used to, you always believe in treating his scars with the utmost kindness and care. He moves instantly, leaning forward to drag his hands down the curve of your waist before gripping the back of your thighs like he never wanted to let you go.

When he looks up at you, you see the smidge of defeat in his eyes, and the tired smile he sends your way just makes you want to cradle the man in your arms for eternity.

"Don't think this old man is cut out for this type'f thing, sweetheart." Bucky mutters almost inaudibly.

He tips his head back as he quietens, as if the weight above his head is too heavy to carry.

Despite the joke on his age, there's a small drop on your heart. It's different when Bucky says he's tired. It's because he's been doing life for a very long 110 years. You've always encouraged him to pursue everything he wanted, from the smallest thing like learning how to cook his favorite dishes to bigger ones like campaigning to be a congress member. So when he says that he doesn't feel fit to continue, a piece of your heart breaks because you understand how hard he tries. To move on, to become a better man.

You lift your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pushing forward lightly to let him rest on your stomach so it doesn't ache.

You shake your head while combing through his hair, pushing the loose strands behind his ear while gently replying, "Silly, everybody starts somewhere."

Bucky shakes his head against your waist, and you have to hold back a giggle at the sensation and the gesture. Sometimes your husband does things that are very childlike, and not only is it absolutely adorable, but it reminds you that he is just a human like everybody else.

"Feels like I haven't even stepped foot while everybody else is on the goddamn finishing line." He mumbles. Its nearly inaudible, but you can hear loud and clear the weight behind those words.

"That's not true." Your protest is as much convicted as it is true, and you make them known as you pull away from his grip, grabbing his shoulders to straddle him. Both your knees are bent beside his thighs, setting comfortably on the edge of the bed. It's an extremely familiar position—in many contexts. But it's the most intimate to you. Vulnerable. To be mere breathes away from his face, all of you and all of him meeting in the middle.

You know what he says isn't true because Bucky doesn't do things half-assed. He worked his way up on a very, very difficult campaign, rising above in a world that doesn't always make space for him. He has made it so far, from the Winter Soldier to Congressman Barnes. It hurts you that despite everything, he still has doubts about himself.

Even when he's hurting he holds you in his arms so gently, one arm propping behind your back while the metal one is stationed right on your neck, trailing down to your waist to join the other. Bucky pushes his face into your neck, molding it perfectly into the crook that was made for him. You run your fingers through his hair in response, wishing to relieve all the built up tension.

He breathes in your scent, nosing the skin like that mere contact could calm him down. And you feel the way he deflates beneath you, breath tensing—anticipating—as if he were scared of what he wanted to say next. The words he uttered then were so soft, yet so convicted at the same time. It sounded like he already knew it would happen. "If I went back out in the field.. would you be angry?"

Your fingers came to a pause, lips dropping into a small pout. The man slowly lifts his head up again to see why you've gone quiet and he can't help but give you a small kiss to soothe the upset.

Despite the slightly uncomfortable shift in your chest, you couldn't say you were surprised about his confession. Bucky had always been a man of action more than he was with words. He carries his promises in the way he moves. To repent, to love, to forgive. His silence spoke more than any word ever could. So it's not new to you that his sense of justice is rooted in physically fighting for it. Though you hated seeing him hurt, you loved it even more when he had that gratified smile and a look in his eyes that showed you he was proud of the man he became. You could never stop him from doing what he thought was right.

Toying with the chain of his dog tags you sighed, shaking your head in acceptance, "Worried maybe.. but never angry."

Bucky took your right hand off his chain and placed it on his cheek, softly urging you to look him in the eyes. He wanted to hear you say that right to his face. To look at the truth, the hurt and the apprehension. He wanted to understand you beyond the words that came out of your mouth.

"You mean that, sweetheart?" He kissed your palm like it was glass, savoring every line and crease as if it was heaven beneath his lips. He stopped particularly longer when he met your ring finger, where a golden band had sat comfortably for years.

Bucky was ready to see the light dim in you—he knew you didn't enjoy seeing him go back out there after everything he went through. He was ready to use everything in him to spark it again, to save whatever trust you had left in you.

But he was utterly surprised to see the pure acceptance in your eyes. That kind of willingness to stay beside him along the ride, no matter the bumps and distance in between. You looked at him like you were ready to weather the storms and carry the weight of the world with him—if not for him.

Because this is what love is. Love gives and lets go without seeking recognition, without seeking for something in return. You love because you have the capability to—to make space and celebrate another flourishing in your presence.

Being with Bucky was never about what you could get, but what you could offer him.

And so in love's quiet surrender you learn to accept without condition. To love without judgement, without the need to change him. Not just whenever he makes you laugh or smile, but all of his darkness. His past, his anger, his sadness. You do not desire for him to become someone else because you understand that he is enough as he is.

"You can be anything you want and I'd still be here to love you." It was your promise, sealed with a gentle kiss on his lips.

And suddenly it wasn't just him against the world. Wasn't just the darkness creeping into his life, never with mercy, never with kindness. There was you at the end of the tunnel, holding out your hand for him. A chance at salvation.

You could be that for him. A saving grace, a friend, a lover. You'd be anything for him if it meant you could see that rare sight of his smile again.

There is no future without him in it.

He tightens his grip around your waist, arms snaking their way beneath your pajamas to touch the skin. Not the bruising, desperate kind, but a touch that grounds him in the moment. That allows him to feel every single emotion following your confession. You arch against him lightly, laying your palm against his clothed chest when the cool metal of both his arm and the ring on the right meet your skin. But it only makes you smile into his lips, remembering that small yet incredibly meaningful detail.

He wears his wedding ring on the right instead of the left.

Bucky told you that it was because he wanted to always feel the weight on his skin. Not the phantom one on his left, but that real, wrapping sensation, so that he'd never forget one of the happiest moments of his life. So he’d never forget that there was someone waiting for him.

Bucky continues to kiss you with leisure, humming in satisfaction when your hands run up and down from the base of his neck to the top of his head. He pushed your body impossibly close, wanting to feel each and every part of you.

When he is finally satisfied with your loving, he pulls away to face you and you see that mischievous look return to his eyes. He leans in yet again, trailing little pecks that trace your jawline before asking,

"Even if I was a paperboy?"

Now this brings an unexpected laugh out of you.

You know for a fact that Bucky actually used to be paperboy back in the 30s. It's a story that you hold safe in your heart, a glimpse of a reality lost to time. You remember the first time he told you about it back before the two of you got married and the pure elation you felt. Although you knew paperboys did exist, it never settled in your head that they were real real. More than that, you never pictured that your very own husband was one back in his days.

With your head thrown back in glee, Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of you. He loved your smile, even more when he was the reason for it. His clear blue eyes took in the very image of you, everything from the hearty breathes you were releasing, the crease of your lips to the way your throat bobbed. He would trade the world for the sound of your laughter and the stars for that glimmer in your eyes.

"Oh I can just imagine little Bucky riding around the neighborhood in his overalls and newsboy cap. I bet you made eeeveryone fall for how cute you were."

It was meant to be a tease on your husband's charming nature, but deep down you genuinely believed that to be true. And you were proven right when he shrugged in response, that annoyingly handsome smug smile settling deeply on his face.

"How'd you think I sold out everytime, doll?"

It's times like these where you see the light come back into his eyes. The nonchalance, the proud puff in his chest. He has such a beautiful smile. The most beautiful.

The surge of love you felt propelled you to wrap your arms around his head, pushing his face to rest on your plush chest. "You were a charmer weren't you?"

"Born and raised, ma'am." He mumbled against the soft fabric of your top. His hand drifted down to the bottom of your ass, caressing in a silent promise for the coming night.

You chased after it, placing your hand on top of his and then dragging your fingers up lazily, tracing the vein on his bicep. It teetered on his shoulder now, where you could feel him shudder and then flex beneath. With this gesture you felt the utter pride and masculinity showing. "You're not even denying it!" You exclaim as his lips move away from that comfortable spot on your chest to press a thousand pecks on your neck and then cheek. His beard—the one that you begged for him not to shave off—ticked you pleasantly. Once he realizes this fact though, he cheekily shakes his head, and you squirmed to get away only for him to snake a hand behind your head to softly guide you back to his lips.

You sighed against him, closing your eyes to savor the feeling. "The man of my dreams."

"You dreaming of me?" It took him a while to answer you, too occupied with tasting your sweetness. He whispered the tease right beside your ears, his lips mapping the shell as he softly nipped your earlobe.

"Every night Bucky."

WOWWWW thunderbolts Bucky changed my life you guys (hello prince hair). I initially wanted to write a playful little moment with him but got a tiiiny bit emotional 😅

ALSO ITS CANON TO MEEE that Bucky used to be a paperboy. I literally couldn't stop laughing at the thought

masterlist

dividers by @enchanthings-a

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byhuenii · 1 day ago

Text

From the Start

Pairing Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Synopsis They were best friends. She loved him quietly — from the start. But timing was never on her side. Now, between unspoken words, missed chances, and a love that lingers too long, she learns what it means to let go without ever truly doing so. Inspired by “From the Start” by Laufey — a slow, aching love story about almosts, always, and everything in between.

Word Count 4.8K

Themes + Warnings Unrequited love / yearning, Hurt no comfort, angst and longing, missed timings, Emotional Distress / hints of depression (not romanticized) , Quiet suffrage, Self-isolation, Bittersweet loyalty, tender, melancholic, bucky barnes.

— From the Start “If only you knew… I’ve loved you quietly, endlessly, from the start.”

It started with coffee.

You always made his the way he liked it — strong, a little sugar, no cream. Some mornings, he’d wake up from dreams he didn’t remember, soaked in sweat and shaking, and you’d be there in the kitchen already, waiting. You never said anything. You didn’t have to.

That’s how your love began — in the quiet moments. Brushing his hand with yours when you passed him a mug. Laying a blanket over him when he fell asleep on the couch. Listening. Always listening.

The light in the compound's kitchen was low — early morning blue, the kind that makes everything feel a little quieter. Bucky sat at the table, one hand wrapped around a chipped mug, his eyes soft with sleep, his hair half-tied back and falling into his face.

You knew that look. Dream-sick. Still caught in the web of the night. He didn’t talk much after the nightmares, not until the second cup of coffee kicked in.

So you sat down beside him, shoulder brushing his, and passed him a warm piece of toast, buttered just the way he liked it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “You always know.”

You gave a soft smile. Of course I do. You knew his tells. The way his jaw ticked when he was anxious. The pause before he said "I'm fine" and meant the opposite. You knew him better than anyone.

And somewhere along the way — between patching him up after missions and watching movies on the couch with his head on your shoulder — you’d started falling. Quietly. Without permission. Like slipping under water.

He’d rest his head on your shoulder during late movie nights, eyes half-lidded, breath steady against your collarbone. And you — stupid, hopeless you — would close your eyes and pretend, just for a second, that it meant something more.

You told yourself it was fine. You were fine. That being near him, even if he didn’t love you back, was enough.

But it was never really enough.

But Bucky never saw it. Or maybe he did — and just didn’t want it.

It happens on a slow evening, sunlight honey-thick through the compound windows, painting his face gold.

He sits on the kitchen counter like he always does, elbows on knees, talking to you with that crooked half-smile. But you’re barely breathing.

He’s telling you about someone. Someone new.

“Hey,” he said, almost sheepish, running a hand through his hair.

You looked up from your book. “You’re in a good mood.”

“So… I met someone.”

You looked up too fast, too hopeful, thinking for half a second — maybe —

But he didn’t look at you. His eyes were on the wall. Someone new.

“Oh,” you said, trying not to sound like you’d been gut-punched. “That’s… that’s great, Buck.”

He launched into it then — how she made him laugh, how easy it felt. You listened, nodding, smiling where you should. But all you heard was a roaring in your ears.

“She’s so perfect, you’d love her,” he says, laughing softly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable around anyone. She’s funny — smart. We stayed up talking until 3 a.m.”

You nod. Smile where you’re supposed to. Make a sound that’s supposed to pass for happy.

But inside? You’re cracking.

“She’s… kind. Makes me laugh.” He smiled again, almost bashful. “Told me I should take her to that bookstore downtown. You know, the one you like.” The one YOU liked.

You tried to smile.Tried to nod. But your heart felt like it had caved in on itself.

“Oh. That’s nice.”

That’s mine. That’s our spot. That’s… me.

He didn’t notice the way your hands trembled. Didn’t notice how you stopped breathing for a second. Or maybe he did — and just didn’t want to see it.

That night, you couldn’t sleep.

You lay in your room, staring at the ceiling. The quiet was unbearable. You could still hear him laughing about her. Could still see the way his eyes lit up. And all you could think was: It should have been me.

“Listening to you harp on ‘bout some new soulmate — ‘She’s so perfect,’ blah blah blah…”

That lyric echoes like a broken record as you lie awake in your bed that night, staring at the ceiling like it holds answers. Your heart aches like it’s been wrung out.

You try to drown it out. But his voice — the way he said her name — is louder than the silence.

You remember how his eyes lit up. How easily he smiled. How he used to smile at you like that.

“She’s so perfect.”

You swallow hard. And the jealousy? It’s poison in your veins.

Not because she’s done anything wrong. But because you love him. And he doesn’t know. And worse — you don’t think he wants to know.

You wanted to scream. Instead, you whispered into the dark:

“I’ve loved you from the start, Bucky. God, I wish you knew.”

—

The next few days are unbearable.

You stopped showing up to the gym in the mornings.

Stopped sitting next to him at movie nights.

You took every mission they offered, even the miserable ones — hours in the cold, sleeping on floors, bruises blooming across your ribs.

You dodge him in the hallway. Skip breakfast. Stay in your room or train until your muscles scream — anything to avoid the sight of him grinning at his phone or humming under his breath like a man in love.

Anything to keep you moving. Numb.

You barely sleep. You barely are.

And still, the song plays in your head — like your own personal curse.

“Don’t you notice how I get quiet when there’s no one else around…”

You want to scream.

The pain hit hardest in the quiet hours. When the compound was still, and you sat on your bed staring at nothing, trying not to cry.

You want to ask him how can you not see it? How can you talk about her like that in front of me — like we weren’t something, like I haven’t held your hand through every breakdown, every sleepless night?

But you don’t.

You say nothing. Because saying something would ruin everything.

And so you rot in silence.

You’d see her name pop up on his phone. Hear him laugh through the walls.

And god — the jealousy. The burn of it. Ugly and sharp.

You hated yourself for it. Hated that you were mad at her — at him — for something you never even told him. Something you buried deep, like a secret you didn’t deserve to say aloud.

But you weren’t sleeping. Your eyes were always red-rimmed. And one night, Wanda passed you in the hallway and gently touched your arm.

“You look so tired,” she said softly.

You just nodded, eyes glassy, throat too raw to speak.

You stare at your reflection one morning and don’t recognize the person looking back: Baggy eyes. Pale skin. Glassy, defeated stare. You’ve been crying — you always cry now. Quietly. At night. Into your pillow.

He texts you. Again. Bucky: You okay? Haven’t seen you around lately.

You put your phone face down. You can’t lie to him again. But you can’t tell the truth either.

“God, I wish I could confess I loved you from the start…”

—

You find yourself sitting in the common room alone.

It’s the same couch he used to nap on. The same one where he would rest his head on your lap and mutter that your presence made the nightmares go away. You’d run your fingers through his hair and pretend you weren’t falling in love.

Stupid. Stupid you.

Because he was never falling with you. He was falling for someone else.

You close your eyes and whisper the lyrics into your hand like a prayer:

“Confessed I loved you, From the start.”

You used to sit beside Bucky during movie nights.

His arm would rest behind you on the couch — never quite around you, but close enough to pretend. You knew his laugh by heart, the way it started in his chest and pulled his shoulders forward. You memorized the sound. You loved it.

But now? You sit near Wanda. Head on her shoulder. A different couch, a different row. The distance is a wall. You smile — just enough to seem okay. But it’s tired. Fragile.

Your new spot is farther from him. He notices. He doesn’t say anything.

Neither do you.

Because what do you say to the man you’ve loved in silence for years?

“Please sit closer to me again, even if you don’t love me?” “Please don’t tell me how beautiful she is — I already know. I’ve imagined being her every night since you met.”

You just keep quiet. You always do.

“Don’t you notice how I get quiet when there’s no one else around?”

It wasn’t just what he said. It was how he said it.

You’d just finished a mission, still half-sweaty and bloodstained. You were pulling your boots off when he walked into the locker room, smiling in that way you hadn’t seen in years — like sunlight came with him.

“She texted again,” he said. “Told me she was nervous to meet the team. I told her she’d love you guys.”

You froze, mid-lace.

He kept going.

“God, she’s sweet. She sent me this picture of her cat in a Captain America hoodie—like, full-on cosplay. It was adorable.”

You smiled like it didn’t hurt.

But that night in your room, her name was on loop in your head. Not her fault. Not really. But you hated how it sounded coming out of his mouth.

—

You were sitting in the rec room, legs curled beneath you on the corner of the couch. Bucky walked in, looking happier than you’d seen in weeks. Hair tousled, a small coffee in hand, that boyish smirk tugging at his mouth.

“I had the best night,” he said. “We went to that vintage bookstore off 4th. She made fun of me for dog-earing pages. Then we spent hours in the philosophy aisle. Like actual hours.”

He paused, a little breathless with how sweet the memory was.

“She’s something else.”

You laughed, soft and short. Like something small had snapped inside you.

“That when I talk to you, oh, Cupid walks right through. . .”

You nodded. Pretended to be reading your tablet. Pretended not to notice the way his voice got gentler when he said her name.

“Sounds like she’s perfect,” you said, voice even.

“She really is.”

“‘And shoots an arrow right through my heart…”

You smiled as if it didn’t pierce you. As if you hadn’t once spent hours in that exact bookstore with him, joking about Freud and arguing over which Austen character he’d be.

He didn’t remember. Or maybe he did. Just not like you did.

You went to your room that night and sat on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped tight around yourself, that lyric playing on loop in your head. You felt like you were watching the person you loved fall for someone else — from the front row, clapping with the rest of the crowd.

And that’s when you knew:

You were losing him. And he had no idea.

—

It started slow.

You said yes to fewer things. Movie nights. Game nights. The random 2 a.m. rooftop stargazing that used to be a staple — all of it, you started skipping.

No dramatic exit. No excuse.

Just silence.

And at first, the team assumed you were busy. Missions, maybe. Personal stuff.

But then you started taking every solo op.

You started volunteering for recon, double shifts, cold assignments in places where you could disappear without anyone asking why.

And the thing is — you were still good. Sharp. On time. Effective.

But you weren’t… you.

Clint notices first.

Not because you said anything — you don’t. But because you’re quieter than usual. You laugh, but it doesn’t stick. You go through the motions like you’re clocking in for a shift you didn’t want.

One night after dinner, he catches you washing your dish — alone — long after everyone’s gone.

“You alright, kid?” he asks.

You smile. “Fine.”

And that’s how he knows you’re not.

You’re using that voice. The one where you stretch your words to keep them from shaking. He doesn’t press. Not that night. But he makes sure there’s always a seat next to him at meals.

Just in case you ever want to stop pretending.

—

You stop showing up for things.

You miss three breakfasts. A debrief. Poker night. No one calls you out, not directly.

But Sam texts you a meme. “Missing you at game night.” Wanda brings you a coffee one morning and just sits beside you, not saying a word.

You tell them you’re tired. Overworked. But the truth is you’re grieving.

And grief doesn’t always come from death. Sometimes it comes from almosts. From being so close to being loved and then watching someone else get chosen instead.

You start waking up with tear tracks on your cheeks. You can’t even remember crying in your sleep.

“What’s a girl to do? Lying in my bed, staring into the blue. . .”

Your eyes stay glassy. Red-rimmed. But you smile when spoken to. Laugh when it’s expected. You wear heartbreak like foundation.

And Bucky? He texts sometimes. Bucky: You okay? Bucky: You’ve been distant. Did I do something?

You don’t answer.

You don’t have the words for how much he did.

“Unrequited, Terrifying.”

—

Some nights, when the silence was too loud and your heart was too heavy, you’d climb into Wanda’s bed and lie on your side — back to her, eyes open in the dark.

“She chose me,” you whispered once. “To meet. To fall for. To laugh with.”

Wanda didn’t respond right away. Just wrapped her arms around you from behind and let you breathe.

“She’s perfect,” you added, voice cracking. “And I’m—”

“You’re everything,” Wanda whispered into your shoulder. “He just couldn’t see it.”

You didn’t cry.

But your body shook.

Sam sees it in your fists.

The way you hit the punching bag like it owes you money. You don’t stop. Don’t pause. Don’t breathe right. You’re trying to beat something out of yourself — and failing.

“Take a break,” he says gently, tossing you a water bottle.

You nod, breath ragged. “One more set.”

But when he walks away, he doesn’t really leave. He leans on the doorframe and watches — helpless. You’re disappearing into yourself. One punch at a time.

Later, he tells Bucky: “She’s burning out, man. I don’t know why, but I know it’s about you.”

Bucky looks confused. And Sam wants to shake him.

—

You skipped the team lunch. again. Didn’t go to poker night. Wanda told you Sam noticed — “You okay?” he texted. You said “Just tired.” But Wanda knew better.

You weren’t just tired. You were unraveling.

The world moved without you. Missions, briefings, late-night drinks.

The next time you did show up — Movie night. You almost didn’t come. You never miss it, but lately, being in the same room as him is like pressing down on a bruise just to make sure it still hurts.

The lights are dim. The team is settling in. Someone saved your usual seat beside Bucky.

You walk past it.

Settle instead next to Wanda. She gives you a quiet look as you place your head gently on her shoulder.

You don’t say a word.

Across the room, you can feel his eyes on you. Like he doesn’t understand what changed.

And how do you tell him? How do you say:

“You must be blind if you can’t see…” “…you’ll never know how much you mean.”

You catch his gaze once — just once. And it’s enough to undo you.

He looks concerned. Confused. Hurt, maybe. But not the kind of hurt you feel.

Your smile falters. Wanda shifts slightly and squeezes your hand.

And you think: This is what it means to love quietly. To sit two feet away from the person who makes your heart ache and know you’ll never be enough.

Bruce doesn’t pry.

But he notices how your cortisol levels spike whenever Bucky walks into a room. He sees your biometric data from shared missions — the subtle signs of insomnia, elevated stress.

He runs diagnostics under the guise of “team wellness.” You thank him with a smile, but don’t meet his eyes.

You’ve always been emotionally intelligent. But lately, you seem distant from even yourself.

He writes it in your file: Subject exhibits signs of chronic emotional suppression.

Then deletes it.

Because this isn’t clinical. This is heartbreak. And science can’t fix that.

—

Nat watches you lie like a professional.

“Everything okay?”

You: “Yeah, totally.”

She doesn’t even blink.

She starts leaving coffee on your desk. Silent support. She doesn’t ask questions, because she knows if she did, you’d crumble.

But one night, she finds you sitting on the floor of the gym, staring at nothing.

“You’re grieving someone who’s still alive,” she says.

And you don’t say a word.

You just rest your head against her leg. And for a while, she lets you be small.

Later, she found Wanda and told her quietly, “She’s grieving something she won’t say out loud.”

Steve watched the space next to Bucky stay empty for the fifth team gathering in a row.

Bucky kept glancing at the door. Kept half-turning every time footsteps echoed.

But you never came.

And if you did — you sat near Wanda. Always Wanda. Curled into her shoulder with a tired smile. Laughing softly, but never loudly. Never like before.

“Have I done something to her?” Bucky asked Steve one night.

Steve knows why.

He sees the empty chair. The way you only show up late and leave early. The way your laughter used to echo through the compound and now barely registers.

“You ask her if she’s okay?” Steve says one night.

Bucky hesitates. “She says she’s just tired.”

Steve doesn’t say it, but he thinks it:

Tired of pretending you didn’t break her.

Steve hesitated. Then said: “Maybe not directly. But something’s changed. And you haven’t asked the right questions.”

Thor doesn’t understand at first. Your sorrow is quiet — too human. But one afternoon, he finds you alone on the balcony during a team BBQ, staring at the sky like it might have answers.

He approaches gently.

“Do you mourn, lady Y/N?”

You smile, brittle. “It’s complicated.”

He nods. “The fiercest battles are fought in the heart.”

He hands you a mug of something warm and honeyed.

“You are seen,” he says. “Even when you wish to vanish.”

You almost cry. But instead, you sip. And for a moment, it’s enough.

—

You hadn’t planned to go. You hated heels, hated faking a smile, hated pretending not to watch Bucky from the other side of the room.

But Wanda convinced you. “You’ll regret it if you don’t,” she said gently.

You arrived late. In black. Subtle. Safe.

The lights shimmered like champagne, and the air was full of polite laughter and perfume. You made your way through the crowd, heart tucked behind ribs like a secret, until you saw him.

Bucky. And her.

He looked different. Softened. Not as tired. Like he was finally breathing.

She was lovely. Naturally. Graceful. The kind of beautiful that doesn’t know it’s beautiful.

She smiled at you. Warm. “You must be Y/N — Bucky told me so much about you.”

Your stomach twisted. “All lies, I hope.”

She laughed. Genuinely. God, you couldn’t even hate her.

She laughs. She’s sweet. Kind. Confident without being cruel.

And it kills you with envy.

Just envy.

Because she’s not a villain.

She’s just her. And you’re not.

You watched the way she touched his arm, the way he leaned toward her instinctively. The way he looked at her like she was it.

And still, you smiled. Because you’re a girls’ girl. Because if your best friend is happy, you’re happy.

That’s the lie you tell yourself as your throat tightens and your drink starts to taste like metal.

“I miss the way you looked at me when we were seventeen…”

Wanda stays by your side the whole night. She doesn’t ask questions. She just knows.

You drink slowly. Smile carefully. And bleed quietly.

They saw everything.

Tony, watching the way your smile dropped when Bucky walked into a room with her.

Bruce, noticing how your hands trembled slightly when handling sensitive tech — how you blamed “caffeine,” but he knew better.

Steve, seeing the way your laugh faltered the second Bucky turned to someone else.

Clint, finding a forgotten hoodie of Bucky’s folded in your room, and quietly leaving it where you wouldn’t find it again.

They weren’t blind.

They just didn’t know how to help.

Because how do you comfort someone whose heartbreak is invisible to the person causing it?

—

You find yourself outside later — rooftop, heels in hand, cold air slicing through the open back of your dress.

You kick off your heels and wrap your arms around yourself.

You don’t hear him at first.

“You always disappear when things get loud,” Bucky says behind you.

You turn slowly. He’s watching you like you’re a puzzle he can’t solve.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Just leans beside you against the railing, both of you staring into the dark.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, voice low.

You don’t thank him. You just nod. The silence settles like dust.

You hum softly. “So does she.”

He glances at you. “She likes you, you know.”

“She should,” you say, smiling without humor. “I like her too.”

“I’ve missed you,” he adds.

“Have you?” you ask, not cruel — just tired.

He looks at you then. Really looks.

He studies you. “You okay?”

“I didn’t know things got so far between us.”

You want to scream. No. I am not okay. I have loved you every day for years, and now I have to stand still while you build forever with someone else.

“You were busy,” you say. “With her.”

He exhales, steps closer. “She’s great. But she’s not—”

“Don’t,” you whisper, looking away.

“I mean it.”

“Please, Bucky,” your voice cracks. “Don’t give me pieces now.”

The wind bites your skin. The city lights blur.

“I loved you,” you say, “from the start.”

His face crumples — just slightly.

And maybe it’s real. Maybe he means it when he whispers:

“So did I.”

“Confess I loved you from the start…”

But he doesn’t reach for you. He doesn’t kiss you. He just stays.

Too close. Too far.

—

He watched you the whole night.

Not in a creepy way — not even deliberately. But his eyes find you like they always used to. Like muscle memory.

Except now, you're distant. You're with Wanda. You’re across the room in your navy dress, holding champagne and laughing softly.

Not loud like you used to. Not free like before.

You look… tired. Lovely, but dimmed.

And when your eyes catch his, you smile.

Not the one he knows. Not the one that used to light up your whole face. This one is polite. Like he’s a stranger at a party and not someone who once lived in every beat of your heart.

He feels something then. Not jealousy. Not guilt.

Just an emptiness. A strange, cold hollowness like someone removed a piece of the puzzle and left the gap permanently open.

They watch you move like a ghost of yourself.

Polite. Soft-spoken. Present but not fully there.

Clint squeezes your shoulder once as you pass. Sam brings you a drink, says nothing. Wanda watches you like she might cry. Peter’s fidgeting — he wants to hug you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed. Steve avoids your gaze like it’s sacred and he’s not worthy. Nat rests her head briefly against yours before slipping away again. Even Thor watches you with a furrowed brow, eyes sad.

You, the girl who once lit the room on fire just by being in it — Now you barely make a spark.

—

Peter is young, but not blind.

He used to joke with you. Now, you don’t smile the same.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he brings you little things: a cookie from the bakery, a drawing of Spider-Man you might find funny.

One day, he quietly says, “I don’t know what happened, but... I hope whoever hurt you knows what they lost.”

You blink fast.

He hugs you around the waist, mutters, “I miss your happy.”

And you do too.

Tony doesn’t ask.

He monitors.

Security footage. Training logs. Mission reports. He tracks the change — the late nights, the solo ops, the silence.

“Someone break your heart?” he asks one day, pretending it’s a joke.

You blink. Say nothing.

“Figures,” he mutters. Then he sends you a custom playlist called 'Heartbreak but Make it Badass’ and upgrades your suit with extra impact resistance.

“Just in case the next time you want to punch something harder than yourself.”

He never says more.

But the suit fits perfectly.

Bucky finds you. Alone. again..

He doesn’t know what he wants to say. Maybe he doesn’t want to say anything.

“I didn’t know,” he offers. It's hollow. Empty. Pointless.

You nod. “I know you didn’t.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“—you didn’t do anything wrong.” Your voice is so gentle it cuts him. “You were just… being loved. That’s not a crime.”

There’s a silence.

Then you smile — soft, tired.

“I’m happy for you.”

It’s a lie. A beautiful, brutal lie.

And the worst part is — he believes it.

—

You still show up. You still fight. You still help.

But you don’t laugh like you used to. You sit near Wanda now — head on her shoulder, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion that sleep doesn’t fix.

You avoid the spaces Bucky lingers in too long. You take more solo ops. You tell Peter, “I’m just busy these days,” when he asks why you’re not around.

But the truth is: You're still in love with someone who chose someone else.

And even if your heart isn’t bleeding anymore, the bruise never really faded.

Sometimes he remembers little things: The way you used to laugh at his dumb jokes. The way your eyes always found his in a crowd. The way your smile would bloom when he walked into a room.

And now?

Now you barely look at him.

And something inside him tightens. Not regret. Not longing. Just a quiet ache for a version of something he’ll never fully understand.

“If only I could tell you that I loved you from the start…”

The lyric replays in his head like a song stuck in the wrong key. He doesn’t know why it fits — only that it does.

—

A week later, he texts you a photo of a coffee mug you once broke in his kitchen, now glued together and full of daisies.

Bucky: Found this in storage. Couldn’t throw it out.

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t respond.

Instead, you sit in silence, heart aching in your hands. Because you could’ve been everything. Could’ve been her. Could’ve been his.

But you weren’t.

You never were.

You look at yourself again.

Navy hoodie this time. Dark circles under your eyes. A smile pulled tight with the thread of holding it together.

You still love him.

But love doesn’t mean staying.

Love, sometimes, means letting go. Quietly. With grace. While every part of you is screaming.

You loved him from the start. But maybe he wasn’t meant to be the end.

You step away from the mirror. You walk into the next day. You breathe. You smile at her. You smile at him.

And then you go find your spot beside Wanda again — safe and sad and real.

You see her again later.

She’s sitting in the compound kitchen, eating blueberries from a mug. She sees you and lights up.

“I was just telling Bucky he needs to stop trying to cook for me. You weren’t kidding — he really can’t boil eggs.”

You laugh. It comes easier now. But it’s still a hollow sound.

You like her. You really do.

And that’s the worst part.

You envy her laugh, the way he looks at her, the quiet rhythm they’ve fallen into.

But you never let it twist into bitterness. You don’t want to be cruel. You’re not that kind of girl.

If Bucky’s happy… you’re happy.

That’s what you tell yourself.

Even if it’s not true.

You walk away from the kitchen, smile fading as soon as you’re out of view. And under your breath, you hum the same quiet melody that’s lived in your chest for months:

“If only I could tell you that I loved you from the start…”

And the worst part? You did.

"And if he’s happy… I’m happy."

(That’s a lie. But it’s one you’ve learned to live with.)

(You've got mail) Sorry, yeah. I was listening to this song while making this and honestly. yeahhhhh. to me it feels so real and vulnerable, its just something i get. i wanted to do a happier ending but the ending to this song is not happy at all, and realistically would you of gotten with someone who was like that to you? i wouldn't personally but that's just why i relate deeply to this. and just the many times i have been lead on. its the quiet suffrage, the i don't want to bother my friends. its human.

Tag List (For Mr. James Buchanan Barnes is open!)

@herejustforbuckybarnes @bbsbrina @barnesandbouquets

#bucky x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #w.riting ‹𝟹 ‎scripts #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mcu x reader #mcu x f!reader #angst angst ansgt #no happy ending im sorry #very insanely bittersweet

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cosmictheo · 30 days ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 | bob reynolds

(gif credits to @tomundsen )

—summary: it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it. —pairing: bob reynolds x female!avenger!reader —word count: 7k (oops) —content: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, p in v sex, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some porn with some plot, fingering, he talks to you through it, really passionate sex, a lot, lot of body worship, praise kink goes brrr, sub!bob, bob just loves his powerful strong girl too much. confident and self-assured bob is so dear to me.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

“H–hey, here's your milk— woah,” Bob interrupted himself when he finally lifted his gaze from the floor so he could look at you. His eyes fell on your figure, roaming up and down shamelessly, scanning in wonder-struck silence at the way you looked in the new suit.

You were in front of your full-length mirror, analyzing with squinted eyes the way the suit that had just arrived, restyled and upgraded, looked on you. All the details you had mentioned were fixed now.

It looked good on you, you thought. It fit your body like a second skin though. But the fabric was pretty much perfect, it was comfy and flexible, it was designed to match your abilities and fighting style, without excessively exposing you.

And you still had to put on the cape, a feature Valentina had insisted on adding to the final look, that way you would impose more respect and appear more intimidating, according to her.

Bob stood frozen at the entrance of your room, in his hands he was carrying cups of milkshake he had ordered not too long ago, one of them probably meant for you.

Even though you had told him many times that you didn't like to eat or drink before a mission, he did it anyway. He cared too much about you to not to. So every time he ordered himself something, he had to order something for you as well.

“Thank you, Bob,” you offered him a kind smile nonetheless in appreciation, turning your head so that you could face him. His countenance was all flushed red and the content of the cups swirled a bit with the tremor of his hands.

“Can you help me with the cape?” you then asked, watching him as he awkwardly set the cups down on the small coffee table in the center of your bedroom before making his way towards you with swift steps, as if you were the center of gravity of the entire universe, of his universe.

He couldn't control how his eyes drifted down from your face and swept along your back, drinking in every curve, every outline of your gorgeous, perfect figure, relishing in the way the tight black fabric clung to your body like a second skin.

Bob's gaze traced a very slow scan across your lower back, through the shape of your hips, the curve of your ass, the complex of your thighs—

“Isn't it too much?” you wondered out loud, making him flinch. Your eyes were looking at him through the reflection of the mirror as Bob stumbled to set the cape where it supposed to be, hooking it onto your shoulders very carefully, with trembling fingers.

You could catch a glimpse through the mirror of the way his eyes were glowing under the soft yellowish light of your room, you could see your own reflection within them, melting into all the darkness of his particularly dilated pupils. The darkness in his eyes surrounded you completely.

He finished settling the cape on your back and Bob took a couple of steps back from you, permitting himself to gaze at you in awe, his mouth falling half-open.

“You're— you look nice.” He responded to you, in a stammering but entirely truthful voice, nerves racing on his tongue as he pronounced one of the many compliments that were flooding his head as he ogled you with big eyes. “L–like, really nice.”

He nodded his head in a short frenzy, approving the words from himself. Then his eyes searched yours through the reflection of the mirror and he found himself swooning as you spun around to face him, your cape twirling in the air with the effortlessly graceful motion.

You raised an eyebrow as you saw how Bob held his hands out in front of him, fingers clasped together casually. He kept an innocent visage, though his cheeks were flushed, nervous eyes dropping to the ground as he saw you walking towards him in all your glory and beauty, like a goddess stepping down from the heavens. And you didn't have to coax him into surrendering to you, he already stood in the palm of your hand, wrapped around your pretty finger.

You flustered him so much it was silly. Every step you took stirred an earthquake inside him.

He was as yours as the sun is to the moon, as darkness is to light, as craving is to love.

His heart raced as you stood in front of him, gazing at him from all your power and majesty. And Bob knew he was long gone.

“Are you okay?” you asked him in a tone that conveyed raw concern, just as much as what your eyes shared with his in their familiar, heart-warming silent intimacy.

You had your head slightly tilted and your brow just barely furrowed in worry. You looked so beautiful, so cute, that you had him speechless for a few moments.

“Y–yes, I—” Bob stuttered, jerking his head gently, dismissing any sign of worry he might spark in you. “I'll s–see you after the mission—”

Immediately after that, he rushed to grab his beloved milkshake, flashed you a lopsided smile all crooked with nervousness and stormed out of your room, almost tripping over the box full of vinyls you had yet to organize on the shelves.

Shortly before he left, Bob turned once more to look at you, with that sheepish little grin curving his lips and you noticed how he struggled to hold his cup of milkshake now low in front of him, trying to cover up the prominent bulge that had grown painfully harder the more he watched you in that suit.

And then he just disappeared.

You stood in silence, dumbfounded, staring at your door with puzzled eyes and gaping mouth. Then you glanced down at yourself, searching around for something wrong, something that looked ugly maybe, something that would cause such an outburst in Bob.

But there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. In fact, you looked perfect.

When you came back from the mission, the first thing you looked for in the living room once you stepped out of the elevator was Bob, naturally, eyes flicking to the couch where he usually lay down to read or gaze at the cityscape.

Yelena and Bucky were talking animatedly beside you, exchanging a single knowing glance as they both caught a glimpse of disappointment surfacing on your face, still a little sweaty from all the physical exertion the mission had taken. It had not been difficult. The guys had especially relied on your skills to accomplish it successfully.

For that, you were a bit tired, your mind and body had given up a lot to the energy of your abilities. You were still buzzing. Adrenaline was throbbing in your veins. And normally when you were like this, you reached for Bob's comfort to anchor you back to earth.

Your cape fluttered behind you as you made your way towards the hallway to the bedrooms, looking defeated.

Yelena huffed a small chuckle at you, taking a sip of water from the glass Bucky had offered her, “I can't believe that less than thirty minutes ago you were at full power, levitating off the ground, with your eyes glowing and all, and now you go crawling back to your boyfriend like this.”

You just shrugged, offering them both a small tired smile before continuing to walk towards Bob's room, needing to see him and hug him. You didn't even care that you were still wearing your suit.

You stopped in front of the door and as you were raising your hand to knock on it, it swung open with a ‘wooshh!’, revealing a very distressed looking Bob. His hair was a bit messy, he was still wearing that black shirt that looked so good on him. He had changed his pants, though, now wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, hanging dangerously low around his hips.

He looked like a hot mess. In every good sense of the term.

“You're back,” he breathed out, as if he'd been holding his breath all this time in your absence, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped loudly. His eyes took a quick journey across you and widened as he noticed you were still in your suit. He pulled them back, forcefully, painfully slow back up to your face.

You looked at him strangely, realizing how you were both still standing in his doorway. “Yeah... are you okay, Bob? I feel you... closed off.”

“Yeah, it's just— I didn't want to distract you— before the mission and all that,” he explained, sounding more like a cheap excuse.

“Distract me?” You raised a single eyebrow, repeating his own word, noticing perfectly how his gaze wandered to your chest for just a split of a second, but nonetheless, you managed to catch up with it. A hint of an amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips, leaning against the threshold of his door, and he closed his eyes tightly, ducking his head in shame, knowing full well that he had been caught. Nothing could ever get past you. Not when it came to him.

“Looks like you're the distracted one here, Bob.”

“I'm not—” he stammered, his hands raised to his flushed face, “S-sorry, I don't mean to be like like a wacked out pervert— I don't want you to think less of me. It's just a s-suit.”

The last part seemed to be speaking more to himself than to you, as he grunted it under his breath, verging on a scolding.

But it wasn't just a suit.

It was you.

Your body, your naughty smile, your gaze, your lips tinted with that deadly crimson red.

A couple of beads of sweat led a wet trail down your neck. Bob could smell the saltiness oozing off your sweaty skin, mixed with that exquisite scent of your perfume. He could hear your heart pounding, the throbbing pulse in your jugular vein. Demonstrating that you were real, that you were breathing, that you were right in front of him, dressed like that.

You were devastatingly beautiful. And he was completely at your mercy.

Your hand rose to his face, making him stop his babbling with himself and lift his gaze slowly. His cheek felt warm under your palm, you didn't know if it was because he was a blushing mess or because that was the effect that your touch brought upon his skin.

“It's okay to feel desire, Bob, there's nothing wrong with that,” you reassured him, lowering your tone to a softer, more sympathetic one. “It makes me feel good that you desire me, actually.”

That got a reaction out of him, his lips quivered, hesitating whether or not to speak, until eventually, he made up his mind, “It makes you feel good?”

You nodded your head, your smile morphing to one of a little more shyness, “I thought you didn't like the way I looked in my suit. Since you just ran off without saying anything, I thought that—”

Bob interrupted you right there, shaking his head repetitively. You felt his jaw and flesh move under the palm of your hand as he spoke.

“What? No,” he blurted, huffing air as if it were the most obvious subject in the world. Regret passed over the expression of his face and he uttered your name in that adoring, soft way he did, “You look perfect. It drives me crazy, h-honestly. I haven't been able to stop t-thinking about you. You look so beautiful it makes me want to—”

He forced himself to shut up, suddenly feeling his throat constrict and his face grow even more red. One of his hands ran through his hair anxiously, looking really tense.

“You want to what?” You urged him, your breath feeling warm against his face, your thumb caressed his cheekbone, making him shiver under your touch, “Say it, Bob.”

Bob looked into your eyes again, struggling to maintain eye contact, his hands trembled at his sides, so desperate to reach out to you, to touch you, to grasp you. To hold all of you.

“Make love to you” He mumbled against your lips just before you kissed him, breathing in his air and devouring his words, covenanting them as a mutual yearning. A promise.

Bob kissed you as if you were the air his lungs depended on to breathe, his lips moving with yours like an old habit, like second nature.

“Jump,” he urged you between kisses and shaky breaths, his hands finally being set loose to reach out to touch you and hold your waist.

And you immediately complied, bouncing up and wrapping your legs around his hips. He lifted you up and held you so effortlessly. Sometimes you forgot that this man was the strongest among all of you. The strongest on the planet, most likely.

Without ever stopping kissing you, Bob locked you tightly against him with one arm while the other one stretched out towards the door, closing it behind his back once he started to walk with you in his arms over to his bed.

Both of his hands grasped your body at the bottom of your thighs, squeezing and cupping your warm flesh through the fabric of your suit.

Promptly you felt the bulge press against the underside of your thigh, so desperate for attention, for you.

Bob broke the kiss, the noise of your mouths slipping apart from each other swept across the interior of his room, so filthy and hot. He looked at you with half-closed eyes, gaze darkened by desire and raw adoration.

He was breathless and feeling so flustered and anxious he was trembling, you could sense it as he held you close against him.

“I-I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. It—” he mumbled, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he felt your fingers sinking into his hair at the back of his skull, “It just... pops up. It's inevitable when it comes to you. You drive me crazy.”

He was referring to his erection, of course. His big erection. He was ashamed of it. Bob didn't want to appear desperate —although for you, he certainly was—; someone who was unable to control himself. He was striving for control.

“Just shut up and make love to me, Bob,” you murmured, pleaded, right against his lips, your tongue grazing across his bottom lip, pulled outward, his countenance turn into a pout. “I need you inside me, now. Please, baby”

“S-shit,” he hissed a lot of cursing under his trembling breath. He was buzzing, “I-I need you too.”

Bob kissed you one more time as he laid you down on his bed very gently, careful not to trip or get tangled up in your cape.

His lips traced a path of kisses across your face, down your chin, along your neck. Your body quivered as you felt his tongue run across your skin, wiping away a bead of sweat.

Your legs were still on either side of his hips, one of his hands was running up and down the outside of your thigh and the other was supporting his own weight on the side of your body.

You arched your back for him, grinding against his crotch. Bob groaned lightly into your skin at the friction.

“You drive me crazy— you don't know what you provoke in me,” he uttered, rasping out against the skin of your neck, like an unhinged man, blinded by lust and longing. “This fucking suit— shit. You look so good, so pretty for me. I need you so bad, baby. All the time.”

Rarely did Bob call you by pet names, but every one of those occasions elicited the exact same reaction out of you. Your gaze would darken and your eyes would squint. You didn't have to tell him anything at all. Your body spoke everything to him, calling out to him in silence, in complicity.

With you, the intimacy, the complicity spoke for itself above the silence.

He knew the power he had in you. He knew exactly how to use it.

“P-please... ah—” yet he still begged you, whimpering just from friction and touch alone, pulling his head out of your neck and bringing his face closer to yours. He kissed your lips once more, just as your legs squeezed tighter around his waist, pulling him closer to you and making him pant against your mouth. “I dreamt of your legs wrapped around my waist. Just like this...”

Even Bob couldn't fully recognize himself. He was in some kind of deep lust trance, everything was blurred, except for you. Just beneath him, your beautiful body squirming, flushed against his.

To think that not so long ago you had been out there, in your nice suit, in full super-heroine mode, helping and saving people. Protecting kids from the bad guys, fighting for them.

They all probably looked up to you with adoration, everyone would most likely be jealous of him if they knew how he had you now.

None of them could ever see you like this. Only in their dreams.

“Only in their dreams,” a voice murmured at the back of his mind.

“Bobby...” You breathed out his name, pleading for mercy, for him to do something, anything at all. One of your hands was curled around his forearm at your side, squeezing it to attract his attention. Your fingertips absentmindedly traced the veins outlined against his skin trough his arm. You could feel his throbbing pulse on them. Desperate and hepless. Craving.

“Let me taste you, baby, please” Bob cooed, his voice coming raspy and desperate out of his throat, “I need to taste you, yeah?”

“Y-yes, yes,” your mouth moved faster than your mind, gazing at him with eyes glazed over with lust. “W-wait, I have to take off my suit first, let me—”

Bob cut you off with a sloppy little kiss, pressing his forehead affectionately against yours, his nose nuzzling yours just before he pulled away, “I-I got it.”

He patted your thigh gently and you unwrapped your legs from his waist, following him with your gaze attentively as he settled over you carefully so that his fingers reached around your neck, in search of the zipper of the suit. When he found it, he began to pull it down, looking at you with ravenous eyes, blinking so slowly that it seemed like he wasn't blinking at all.

“Turn a little and lift your hips up, baby.” He said to you once the zipper trail was almost reaching your lower back. As he unzipped the bottom of it, you took off your top to help him, leaving your bare chest on full display for him. “That's it. God...”

Bob shakily exhaled air as he became aware that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, he had to be extremely careful not to tear the zipper into a thousand tiny pieces with the force he squeezed it, pulling it further below your hips.

“You don't wear anything under it? Should I be worried about this?”

His tone of voice was so confident and borderline playful that for a moment you felt like he was someone else entirely. He really wanted to look confident for you, he wanted to provide you that security and comfort. You were stripping naked for him, for God's sake. Bob had to make an extra effort to appear confident and self-assured.

“Just for you, baby,” you assured him, shifting your legs slightly just once to help him pull the suit off completely, tugging it delicately down your thighs. The distinctive noise of the zipper, which this time was reaching your ears like the most arousing noise on the planet, ceased at last, reaching its end.

“J-just for me,” Bob echoed, leaning into you again like a magnet to a gravity core. His lips latched onto your naked thigh, kissing the side considering the position you were lying on his bed now. His wet, leisurely kisses awakened shivers on your skin. He could smell how aroused you were. He practically could taste how wet your sex was. Thinking about it made his mouth water.

“So pretty, so beautiful, my God,” he babbled, his trail of kisses reaching your lower stomach, tickling you in a way that made you sigh. Bob looked up at you for just a moment, his pupils blown out with pleasure, “How could someone like me deserve something like this?”

It all seemed more like a conversation with himself, like if he was walking through a daydream.

Your hand came to rest on his face, cupping his cheek, and he leaned against your palm instantly, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Bobby, please,” you pleaded.

And he gave in immediately, kissing the palm of your hand, “You don't have to beg me for anything. You already have it.”

His kisses trailed back down your stomach and you arched your back so beautifully for him. When he pulled away from your hand, it fell to the side of you on the bed. You clenched in a trembling fist all the fabric of whatever you could catch hold of.

“Are you— are you sure about this?” he looked up to you for consent, his fingers soothingly caressing your thighs, hands pressing them to either side of his face and settling them on his shoulders. When he saw you nodding your head, too much overcome with lust, he brushed a kiss on the inside of your knee, attempting to get your full attention back, “I need words, baby.”

You hurried to answer, babbling, gazing down at him, kneeling so pretty in between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven, “Yes, Bob, baby, please.”

He kissed your other knee now and then licked his lips, hungrily.

“I want to see you fall apart under me,” his hot breath brushed against the skin of your inner thighs, spreading your legs a little wider with a delicate but assured grip. “You're soaking wet, baby,” he marveled, in awe watching your pussy dripping with his adored honeyed water, yet his voice sounded disappointed, “you're wasting my meal.”

The mere sight of how his eyes sparkled with adoration as he gazed at your pussy could have made you cum right there if you started to think about it too much. Bob looked at you as if you were the center of the universe, the entrance to paradise, the sun he orbited around.

It all made sense when you were there. Your presence in the room shifted the whole gravity of his being. His everything was for you. He was all made for you.

All the sense he could possibly envision now was to devour your pussy as if it were his last meal. He devoured it like a starving man, like reaching an oasis in the most arid desert, drowning and sheltering into it.

The sloshing sounds that spread with each stroke of his tongue between your wet folds made you flush all over, throwing your head back against one of his pillows and squeezing your eyes tightly shut, muttering and moaning his name out like a prayer.

To Bob, that noise was the most beautiful melody he'd ever heard. He sucked particularly hard onto your slit, pushing his tongue just barely into your gushing hole, pulling a loud, raspy moan from your throat. Oh, that noise...

His name sounded like the utmost hopeless and religious chant out of your pretty mouth. At that moment he was loving his name, loving the way you moaned it and kept murmuring it, as if it was yours, holding it close to your heart.

Amidst all the acoustic thrill of raw passion, mingled with his own soft whimpers breathing out into your core, Bob could nearly hear the stars themselves just above his red, hot ears.

Your cunt was pulsing all around the tip of his tongue and Bob sensed, tasted your heartbeat through it.

To feel that close to you nearly made him cum right there in his sweatpants.

One of his hands unclasped your leg, crawling up through your skin, his digits drawing a smooth path up your stomach, through your ribcage, all the way to reach your chest, cupping one of your breasts with a possessive hold.

“Bob— uhh—” you croaked out his name, glancing down at him with half-closed eyes, searching for his gaze in desperation.

Your back curved into such a perfect arch, your body squirming up against him as you felt his tongue flick your clit, his fingertips gently caressing your nipple. The stimulation would soon knock you into fucking heaven.

“Yeah, baby,” he responded to your call, disconnecting his mouth just an inch from your pussy, feeling lust-drunk enough to hold your gaze. His whole mouth was drenched with you, the slickness glistening under the dim light of his bedroom. His other hand sneaked between your legs, just barely brushing your pulsating cunt, “I'm here, hm? I got you, angel.”

Angel. That one was new.

You looked as close as he could ever imagine to an angel; sprawled on his bed, your body, magnificent, perfect, damp with sweat and arousal, your gaze searching for his in longing. There, in the shadows, Bob saw the whitish gleam of your energy flashing through your orbs, your power lingering in the air, pulsating along with your heartbeat.

You were so powerful, so strong and marvelous.

And you were all his to break apart.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He asked right before passionately kissing your pussy, his fingertips teasing your clit as he plunged his tongue deep into you, knocking all the air out of your lungs. “I got you, I got you.”

Bob felt you clench impossibly tight all around the two fingers he had thrust into your warm, fluttering hole, barely pressing against the spongy walls of your insides. He sucked your clit just right, breathing your name against your hot flesh. That's what pushed you over the edge, making you cum, falling apart so devastatingly beautiful against his mouth.

He slurped and drank in everything you had to offer him, lapping at your cunt as if he was drowning and it was the oxygen he needed to keep afloat.

He paused to gaze at you attentively as he made you cum, your whole body buzzing, squirming so beautifully under his touch that you resembled some ethereal, otherworldly sight.

His name rasped out of your throat, as if it were your own religion.

“There you go...” Bob cooed, his eyes hazy with adoration, licking his lips clean and kissing your twitching pussy once again. “So good to me. So good...”

His lips kissed a trail upwards, swiping his tongue occasionally across the scars and freckles that decorated your skin as a constellation that appealed to him to adore. Eventually, Bob reached your face, looking down at you with pure love and a glimpse of that gentle shyness of his natural mannerism.

“A-are you okay?”

Bob watched your soul slowly crawl back to the ground and to your body, right back to him, finally snapping out of your post-orgasm trance. He propped his weight against the bed on the side of your waist with one hand, his thumb brushing against your bare skin and he brought the other to your face, caressing your cheek reassuringly.

Your response was your mouth seeking his to join in a deep, loving kiss. Bob closed his eyes, kissing you back, his hand cradling your face.

You could taste yourself through his lips and tongue. And that managed to turn you on even more.

Wrapped in an adrenaline surge of lust pumping through your veins, you rolled both of you over on the bed, laying him underneath you now.

It was nice that you had much more stamina and energy than a normal human. Although there, you didn't feel like a human at all.

You were animals driven by their own instincts.

Bob gasped against your lips, his eyes barely opening so he could visualize you on top of him now, grinding your ass down on his rock-hard erection as you sat so prettily on his lap.

“Shit,” he croaked out your name, his hands grabbing as much of you as they possibly could, sliding past the curve of your waist to your ass, pressing you harder down onto him in urging. “If you keep doing that— I-I'm going to—”

You stopped all movement of your body and sat perfectly motionless on his lap. Bob whined hoarsely in protest, but you didn't let him utter a word, your finger pressed against his lips, silencing him instantly.

“I want you to cum inside me, Bob.” You purred against his ear, your tongue lazily stroking his earlobe. He froze speechless, just staring at you flabbergasted, still delighting in the way you had said those filthy words, so softly and lovingly. He strained himself to keep strong and not burst into his boxers at your words alone. “Let me take your clothes off, okay? Can I see all of you, baby?”

“Yes, p-please, just take everything of me— it's all yours” he promised you, helping you take off that black t-shirt he knew you loved to see on him so much. Exactly why he had put it on that morning.

When his naked torso was fully exposed for you, you bent down to kiss his neck, his collarbone, his pecs, your tongue spent some extra time fondling his sensitive nipples and Bob's legs twitched under your thighs.

The light in the room flickered for a split second and you just grinned against his flushed skin.

“I-I'm sorry—” he apologized with his voice lowering sheepishly, embarrassed. Then he closed his eyes when you raised your head to hush him with a kiss that was more tender than anything, reassuring him in silence.

Then your lips specifically grazed the spot where his heart was, beating maniacally on the other side of his skin.

He was so perfect, effortlessly perfect.

Bob was the most powerful man on planet Earth and yet, he was crumbling beneath you, bowing to the mercy of your touch.

You might as well just tear his chest apart and take his heart, it was already lying open for you, so full of you.

It was yours to take, to hold, to shatter.

You took your time to strip off his gray sweatpants, kissing his thighs, his knees and his calves, gently tugging at the hem of the gray fabric until you eventually slid it off his body and tossed it on the floor, forgotten alongside your scandalous suit.

Bob stared at you with a blushing, timid face as you rose again up through his body, your fingers lightly fiddling with the hem of his boxers now, fully ruined by all the pre-cum he'd been spilling. And you lifted your gaze, searching for his, silently asking for his consent.

He nodded tremblingly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

With wobbly hands he helped you take off his boxers, lifting his hips so you could slide them down his body and toss them into the pile of clothes lying on the floor as well.

His cock sprung free and you looked at it in awe.He was so big, bigger than you had ever had before. It was long too, hard, powerful and desperate for you, just like him.

It's head was furiously red, throbbing and oozing pre-cum incessantly. You found it impossible not to bend down to his groin and swipe your tongue along his slit, scooping up every essence of him and savoring it delightfully. Your tongue lolled along the prominent vein that bulged all along his shaft.

Bob's eyes rolled back and in a blur of bliss, he had to struggle to guide a hand to your head, fingers brushing across your cheek to get your attention. You looked up at him with big, lustful eyes, swallowing everything you had slurped out of him. The taste was bittersweet, hot, familiar, like him.

“No— don't do— don't do that, p-please,” he begged for your mercy in a raspy, cracked, breathless voice. “Come here.”

His hand gripped yours as you took it and carefully, but hurriedly helped you to position yourself on top of him once again, his digits latched onto you your waist, holding you as you squatted just above his lap, straddling him.

You grabbed his cock and held it up against your pussy, the swollen tip slowly sliding in between your wet folds, pushing achingly slow through your entrance.

Both of you sighed at the contact. Wet, hot, shaky and desperate.

Slowly you began to sink down on his cock, hands pressed on his shoulders, clenching them more and more with every inch he pushed inside you.

Bob whimpered shudderingly, choking back the deep, heavy moan that crawled up his throat. He could feel his whole body shivering, squinting his eyes as he leaned his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, struggling to steady his breathing. It was like his soul was slipping out of his body and merging with yours.

No one had ever been so close to his soul. And he didn't think anyone else would, either. No one did it like you.

His veiny hands at your waist gripped your flesh, yet they never pressed you hard enough to push you lower any faster, no, he would wait for you so patiently, giving you the pause to accustom yourself to his size.

“You do it so— so good.” Bob praised hoarsely into your shoulder, his wet lips grazing across your skin, drooling all over you, “you take it so good, you take me so good. There's n-no one like you— no one.”

Heavenly, him pressing against you, his lips laying softly upon your neck, marking you on the outside and inside, his mouth felt like heaven, his kisses falling upon you like stars, shaping a constellation of raw adoration.

Your pussy fluttered around him, squishing him deeper inside.

One of his hands wandered down to your back, fingers tracing your spine reassuringly. He just took the time to reassure you amidst all the blissful trance of pleasure you made him feel.

“Just a little more, baby,” he murmured, his hand caressing your ass appreciatively. Your warm, spongy walls clamped down tight around his cock and Bob's voice cracked. “Oh— S-shit—”

You moaned so loudly against his forehead that your whole spine seemed to twitch, finally feeling your ass pressed down on his lap. He was so deep that you easily thought his tip was almost reaching all into your guts now.

“You're so deep, Bob” You whined, just barely pulling away from him so you could look at him. His eyes were already locked on yours and you caught a glimpse of that golden sparkle flashing through them, his irises glowing like two suns in the twilight. “Bobby—”

Your words struck him to the core and his eyes flashed golden once again, utterly starting to lose control.

“I'm here,” he hissed, panting your name breathlessly, his hands caressed your skin, scoring his imprint on it. He kissed you sloppily, “I got you, I always got you.”

As you began to move on top of him, Bob suddenly felt like he was in heaven. He could no longer envision a life where he didn't feel this way, where he didn't feel you. He shall be yours in every life.

He dropped back on the bed as your hand pushed against his chest, bending down with him and bouncing your hips so lusciously against his that you actually could see his eyes filling with tears, looking up at you riding him in pure adoration.

Bob whimpered your name endlessly, crying it out in a hoarse, broken voice, his hands squeezed your waist, your hips, your ass, anything they could possibly grope out of you.

“My God—” his eyes rolled back, arching his back as you delivered a particularly hard bounce down his cock, so deep that he saw the stars twinkle in the darkness right behind you.

The constant filthy noise of flesh slapping against flesh soon merged with the pornographic acoustic medley of moans, shattered sighs, slurred whispers of names and nonsense words.

You kissed his lips lazily, then his nose, and his chin as you cooed, “You feel so good, baby.”

The bed was beginning to creak beneath the ruthless sway of your hips, ass bouncing up and down heavy against his thighs, so deep that every time you bottomed out you felt him in your throat. His heavy balls were pressed hard against your ass, throbbing, so ready to give you everything they had, to fill you up to the brim, as if it were his sole purpose in life.

“You're perfect— perfect,” he croaked out so pathetically to you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours, plunging into you as if you were his nest, engulfing himself within your soft, warm, spongy walls, pressing against that squishy spot that knocked the breath right out of you.

He kissed your lips once more and in a fragment of a second Bob flipped you over on the bed, rutting into you so good that it made you gasp between kisses.

Bob began to set the pace just as your legs wrapped around his hips, pressing him impossibly close to you.

“Right there?” he whispered, burying his head down on your chest, nuzzling your sternum. “You feel perfect— so tight, my God—”

He kept on praising you endlessly, kissing you, grasping you, breathing in the air you breathed out, sharing the same oxygen, the same time-space that existed between you, that little inches that belonged to both of you and no one else.

“You feel like heaven.”

That was enough for him to have you cumming again, in some way even more earth-shattering than the last orgasm. Your body started to wobble, your pussy squelching and clenching so tightly wrapped around his cock.

The light voltage in the room lowered and raised, matching the racing beat of your heart.

Bob sensed the energy sparking off your body and blending with his own, merging and intertwining as one.

After feeling that, after feeling you so close, so inhumanly close, beyond the physical plane, beyond anything he had ever felt in his life —it was euphoric, overwhelming—; he was cumming too, picking up the pace to reach the apex of his high.

He buried himself in you to the hilt, sobbing out a ragged whimper as he leaned his forehead against yours.

The atmosphere shifted and the light in the room flickered once again.

His load felt hot and thick inside you, coloring your insides with his color, spurting what resembled an ocean of him inside your womb. His hips jerked, his cock shooting out ropes and ropes of hot seed, marking you from the inside.

Bob remained motionless on top of you, panting up against your face, keeping his eyes closed, buried to the fucking hilt inside your overwhelmingly stuffed pussy, making sure nothing could spill out.

And even though his body was drained and succumbing to post-orgasm limpness, he was careful not to collapse his full weight on you, supporting his hands on either side of your shoulders.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him close to you, hands soothingly caressing his back. He sighed against your lips, slowly opening his eyes.

Until then you hadn't realized that the room was completely dark now.

“I think we just blew out the voltage of the room.” You uttered after a comfortable silence, your throat felt scratchy and though you were still in the haze of the afterglow, your voice came out rather playful.

Bob glanced lazily away from you, finally noticing that there was, in fact, no light. He was grateful for that in a way, that way you couldn't see the blushing, tear-stained mess that was his face, snuggling it against your chest.

“I'm s-sorry,” he stammered in his own raspy voice as well, embarrassed, as if he wasn't balls deep inside you, his seed gushing out of your pussy. “I think— I think it was me.”

“I think it was both of us.” You smiled lovesickly as you kissed his sweaty forehead, fingers tracing his shoulder blades. “Don't worry, we'll fix it. Just give me a few minutes.”

Bob placed a couple of kisses on your chest before he began to reluctantly push himself up, carefully pulling out of you. You both sighed lightly at the over-stimulation and the loss of connection. Although, even when he had already slipped his cock off you, you could still feel him inside, leaking out of your gaping pussy, trickling down your thighs.

Bob rushed off in search of a washcloth, stumbling over the pile of clothes you had tossed on the floor. The sound of his feet walking clumsily back to you made you grin.

Then he swiped the cloth in between your legs, very delicately, wiping you clean. The contact made you shiver from the sensibility.

And even through the shadows of the darkness, you could see him frown slightly, very much focused on taking care of you, sensing how the fabric of the cloth felt uncomfortable against your sensitive skin, “I'm sorry.”

“You apologize too much, baby” you tried to reassure him, already in need of him close to you again. “Come here.”

Bob instantly flopped down on the bed next to you, careful not to crush you, but with your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him tight against you it was complicated.

In between hugs and caresses, he ended up being the little spoon, happy to be able to feel your chest pressing against his back, arms embracing his torso.

“Did I— I do okay?” he asked after a brief silence, anxious.

“You were perfect.” You assured him, tenderly kissing his shoulder.

“You too” Bob whispered back, grabbing one of your hands on his chest and bringing it to his mouth, planting soft kisses on your knuckles. The words raced up his throat even before he could think, “I love you.”

He let the words carry up into the silence of the darkness and held his breath, already considering that he had ruined everything.

“I love you too, Bob.”

If it hadn't been for you holding him, his limbs tangled with yours, and because well, you were there, Bob had jumped out of his bed in joy.

But, because you were there, he stayed still, perfectly still, and smiled, utterly in love, savoring the way you had said the three words to him.

You were closing your eyes, drifting off in exhaustion when, through your super-hearing you heard steps approaching through the hallway, of more than a pair of feet, mixing with the voices of your teammates.

“What could have happened?” You heard Ava's voice ask, her tone hovering somewhere between worried and annoyed.

Yelena sighed. “I don't know. Some power failure?”

“A power failure in the whole city?” John remarked, as snarky as usual.

Your eyes opened wide and Bob halted his cute kisses on your hand, turning his head so he could look at you like a deer dazzled by lights.

#bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds imagine #bob reynolds fanfic #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds x y/n #bob reynolds #lewis pullman #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #the sentry #robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #marvel fanfic #cosmictheo

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fairylatte7 · 1 day ago

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are you bored yet? ~ Joaquín Torres

Joaquín’s job has often separated the two of you. His new duties as the Falcon haven't done anything to help the situation. This story takes place during one of the first quiet moments you and him have had in what feels like ages.

Reader is addressed with she/her pronouns.

One ticket to delulu land 😍! I was listening to Wallows and came up with this idea. It’s crazy because I haven’t listened to Are You Bored Yet? in years until now. I hope you enjoy it!!

Joaquín was hesitant to pursue a relationship from the beginning. Not because he didn’t like you. That certainly wasn’t the case. Anyone who knew him well knew he was madly in love with you, and he had been since his Air Force days.

It was his job that kept him moving from place to place that caused his hesitancy. But he wanted you so bad. Every time he saw you was a blessing and a painful reminder that you weren't his. Each smile that you flashed and, eye-roll that you gave him after he said something boyish or immature, seemed to drive a pin deeper and deeper into his heart.

He had to have you.

But would you go for it?

Or would you back down due to his circumstances?

All this time later, his obsessive pining over you during that era feels like it took place in another universe. As far as he was concerned, you had always been his and he had always been yours.

Despite your official relationship status, being away from you never got easier. And since becoming the Falcon, he was seeing you less and less.

Joaquín was incredibly proud of how well you were taking it all. As much as you would love to have him in your arms 24/7, the sight of him doing what he loves and helping so many people was irreplaceable.

You kept pictures of him up in your apartment and in your wallet. Your phone lockscreen was a photo that was taken of the two of you at a gala in D.C. Even if you were kinda embarrassed to admit it, you loved to talk about him. It was a way to remind yourself that he was real.

He was really yours.

Joaquín brought you up every chance he got. From interviews, to small talk, as soon as he got the chance to mention you, he took it. It got to the point that there were certain words Sam wouldn’t say around him. A particular color, food, or movie would set the poor boy on a rambling marathon about you because, in Joaquín's words, “Everything reminds me of her.”, he would say while wistfully looking off into the distance.

It was on a crisp fall evening in September that you and Joaquín had one of your first quiet moments together.

He was in D.C. for one of those government- sanctioned public events that Sam made him go to. Despite Joaquín’s annoyance with having to attend, it gave him an excuse to spend the weekend with you. Due to the long period of separation, the two of you spent much of your time bouncing from restaurant, to museum exhibit that you told him “he just has to see”, to “sick-ass workout class” that Joaquín “has been meaning to check out.”

You two were running around Washington D.C. like mad-men, going from thing to thing. It was fun, tiring but fun. The feeling of your hand in his and the soft forehead kisses that Joaquín planted on your forehead made everything worth it.

As the sun began to set, Joaquín formed a pensive look on his face.

There was a slight chill in the air. Autumn leaves were falling down and the golden light on your boyfriend’s face made him look like a vision. Joaquín always shined. He lit up every room he walked into; it was one of the things you loved about him from the start.

He squeezes your hand as he looks down at you. “I wanna take you to one more place. Are you up for it?”, he smiles.

You nodded. Was it even a question?

He took you to a park near the downtown area. It was a lovely stroll to his chosen location. It was the first time since seeing him that you weren't rushing to be somewhere.

Joaquín stopped next to a picnic table. He turned to face you, grabbed your waist, and swiftly scooped you off of your feet and sat you on top of it. You had forgotten how strong he was. You were caught off-guard, but the act of him picking you up had you giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“You like that?” He laughed, clearly proud of himself. “I should do that more often.”

“Yeah, you should.”, you replied.

You couldn’t stop smiling. You were terribly in love with him.

He leaned back so that his back was laying flat on the tabletop. You did the same.

The sky was painted auburn and burgundy. The sun shone through what was left of the leaves on the trees.

The two of you laid there in a comfortable silence for a while.

When you finally turned to face Joaquín, you found that he was already looking at you.

The small beams of sunlight that remained as the sun remained in the sky for its final few minutes of the day reflected off of his eyelashes.

You could barely breathe.

He reached out his hand and traced your jawline with his hand. A flash of confusion appeared on his face.

You broke the silence.

“What is it?”, you ask.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.”, his voice falters.

“I’ll always be here for you, Joaquín. Even if I’m not here.” You tell him.

He turns his head to face the sky once again.

The silence hangs in the air, not in an ominous way. It’s peaceful.

“We’ve spent, ah.. 48 hours straight together…” He trails off.

You go to speak, but he beats you to it.

“Are you bored of me yet?” He’s facing you again.

“What kind of question even is that, Joaquín?” You deadpan in the kindest way possible.

“I had all of this stuff lined up for us to do, because I never see you. I felt like I needed to compensate by doing as much as possible. But the best part of my day, heck, the best part of the past few months has been us on this picnic table.”

Joaquín had this casual way of saying things that tugged at your heart in a hundred different directions.

“What if I told you that I feel the same exact way?” You ask him.

“Oh, I’d kiss you, for sure.” He holds back a smile.

“I feel the same exact way.” You say quickly.

Joaquín stays true to his word. He holds your face in his hands and pulls you close to him.

The way he kissed you warmed your whole body. He snaked one of his hands around your body and rubbed circles around your lower back. You smiled into the kiss, then the two of you just laid together, enjoying each other’s presence.

Even after it all, Joaquín Torres is worth more than what your time apart could ever take from you.

photo and gif are from pinterest. divider credits to @anitalenia

thank you for reading <3

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x y/n #danny ramirez #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon #tfatws #brave new world #sam wilson #the falcon x reader #mcu x reader #marvel #captain america #joaquin torres oneshot #the falcon #joaquín torres #Spotify

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daydreamgoddess14 · 1 day ago

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ohh this was so great!!! I loved the Thunderbolts dynamic and it was SO CUTEEEEE!!!

Collateral Hearts

Bucky Barnes x enemy!reader/lover!reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes and a fellow Thunderbolt go from clashing on missions to falling for each other, slowly trading tension for trust—and eventually, love.

Word count: 3,611

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The mission brief was simple: extract the Hydra scientist before the mercs got to him. Keep it quiet, keep it clean. But nothing about the Thunderbolts ever stayed that way.

You had barely touched down in Kazakhstan when Bucky Barnes started irritating you—again.

“You’re standing on my shot,” you muttered, settled on a ridge with your sniper rifle nestled into your shoulder. Your scope was locked onto the compound below. “Again.”

“I’m securing the perimeter,” Bucky replied, deadpan, not moving an inch.

You rolled your eyes. “This isn’t your solo mission, Barnes.”

He didn’t respond, but the tight line of his jaw said enough.

You exhaled, steadying your finger on the trigger. “You were two seconds from tripping a motion sensor. You’re welcome.”

He glanced down, saw the faint shimmer of the hidden laser grid. His jaw clenched harder. You’d bet money he hated that you caught it before he did.

“Relax, Soldier. I’ve got your back.”

The words came out with more bite than you intended, but you didn’t regret them. You were tired of him acting like everyone on this team was either incompetent or a liability. Especially you.

Yelena’s voice crackled through the comms. “Please don’t kill each other before we even breach the building.”

Ghost chimed in, dry as always. “Betting odds say they either kiss or stab each other by the end of this.”

“Ten bucks on both,” Red Guardian added with a chuckle.

You smirked to yourself. Bucky, in turn, clicked his comm off.

Childish.

The team moved into position. Yelena and Ghost flanked the west side of the compound. Red Guardian was backup near the extraction point. You and Bucky were tasked with infiltrating the lab from above.

As you moved silently across the rooftop, Bucky walked a few steps ahead, not even checking if you were keeping up.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you whispered. “Appreciate the teamwork.”

“You’re loud,” he replied, eyes scanning the rooftop. “You kick your boots down harder than a rookie.”

You bristled. “Wow. It’s like you’re trying to be insufferable.”

“Trying?” He gave you a humorless half-smirk, the closest thing to an emotion you’d gotten from him in weeks.

You wanted to shove him off the roof.

The skylight above the lab was secured with an outdated lock system. Easy. You knelt beside it and pulled a device from your belt. Within seconds, the latch clicked open.

“You gonna keep glaring or help me lower down?” you asked.

Bucky clipped a line to the roof anchor and held it out wordlessly.

“Thanks for the enthusiasm,” you muttered as you rappelled down into the lab.

The lab was dimly lit, full of overturned equipment and hurried paperwork. Whoever had been here last left in a panic. No bodies—yet.

You landed softly, drawing your weapon.

Bucky followed, landing silently behind you. You heard him before you saw him. Of course. Super-spy.

“Data drive’s not here,” you whispered after scanning the cluttered desk. “He either took it or they already got to him.”

Bucky pointed to a blood trail leading out of the far door. “Guess we’re going hunting.”

You crept through the corridor, careful not to step in the smears. The trail led into a sub-basement lined with cracked concrete and rusted pipes. The tension between you and Bucky pulsed like static electricity—unspoken, simmering, sharp.

You hated that he didn’t trust you. Hated that you had to prove yourself on every op. You weren’t some reckless recruit. You’d survived hell to be here—same as him.

A door creaked ahead, and you both froze.

Then: footsteps. Fast. Desperate.

You moved first, raising your weapon. Bucky reached for your arm—too late.

The door burst open and a Hydra agent lunged. You fired. Clean shot. But two more came from behind.

Bucky intercepted one, slamming him into the wall with his vibranium arm. You handled the second, ducking low and sweeping his legs out before cracking him across the skull.

More were coming.

“Time to go!” you shouted.

You grabbed the bloodied scientist from the corner of the room—barely conscious, barely breathing—and threw his arm over your shoulder. Bucky covered you, firing sharp bursts that echoed off the concrete.

He led the way back to the extraction point, clearing the path with brutal efficiency. You hated to admit it, but he moved like a damn machine—precise, unstoppable.

Outside, Yelena was already at the evac vehicle, gun in hand. “Get in! Get in!”

Red Guardian fired into the tree line as Ghost appeared from the shadows, dragging a second unconscious Hydra goon behind her.

You shoved the scientist into the back seat and turned to help Bucky, who was still covering your rear.

A bullet grazed your shoulder just as you ducked behind the van.

“Shit,” you hissed, grabbing your arm.

Bucky was instantly beside you, eyes scanning the wound. “You okay?”

You blinked. Concern? From him?

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Just a graze. Not your fault, if that’s what you were about to say.”

He didn’t reply—just reached for your arm. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he checked the bleeding.

“Don’t need you babysitting me,” you said, your voice sharp even as your pulse skipped under his touch.

“I’m not babysitting. I’m keeping my teammate alive,” he said lowly, meeting your eyes.

Something passed between you—tense, charged, undeniable.

You were the first to look away.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The flight back was quiet, except for Red Guardian’s occasional snoring and Yelena poking him with a pencil every time he drifted off.

You sat across from Bucky in the Quinjet, nursing your shoulder. He hadn’t said a word to you since the van—just sat there, arms crossed, staring at nothing.

You hated how aware you were of him. How your eyes kept drifting to the scar on his jaw. How you remembered the exact way his hand felt when it brushed your skin.

The worst part? You were starting to realize he didn’t hate you.

He just didn’t know how to let anyone in.

“You did good,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled. “Sorry?”

“Back there,” he said, meeting your gaze. “You did good.”

You stared at him. Was that… praise?

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, raising a brow.

He huffed a short laugh. “Don’t make me regret saying it.”

You smirked despite yourself. “Don’t worry. I’ll cherish this rare moment forever.”

There was a long pause. Then, softer:

“I don’t think you’re reckless.”

You blinked.

“I used to,” he admitted. “But you’re not. You’re sharp. And you saved my ass more than once today.”

Your heart stuttered a little.

“…Thanks,” you said quietly.

He gave a slow nod and leaned back, eyes drifting shut.

And you were left wondering how someone so cold could make your chest feel like it was burning.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two weeks later, and he was still on your nerves.

Since the mission in Kazakhstan, Bucky had shifted from cold indifference to… whatever this new phase was. Less glaring, more hovering. Less insulting, more frustratingly observant.

Like now.

You were in the Thunderbolts’ training facility, wiping sweat from your brow as you caught your breath. You’d been sparring with Ghost, and the match was brutal—satisfyingly so.

Bucky stood against the far wall, arms crossed, watching.

“I can feel you staring, Barnes,” you called, walking to grab a towel.

“You drop your right guard when you spin out of a choke,” he replied, casual like he wasn’t clocking every move you made.

Ghost smirked from the mat. “He’s right.”

You shot her a look. “Traitor.”

She shrugged. “He’s not wrong. Just annoying.”

“That’s his specialty,” you muttered.

But you still caught the way Bucky’s lips curved slightly at that.

He was becoming a problem. Not because he was a pain in your ass—he always had been—but because lately, he made your heart do stupid things. Like flutter. And race. And soften.

You hated it.

Especially because the next mission would be just the two of you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The drop zone was outside Prague—an abandoned hydropower plant that had become a black-market weapons depot. The job: tag the cargo, ID the buyer, and get out without triggering an all-out war.

You and Bucky moved through the rusted catwalks like you’d trained together for years. No wasted words. No missed signals. It was infuriating how well you worked together now.

At least until he started hovering again.

“Your foot’s bleeding,” he said as you crouched near a vent.

You looked down. A shallow slice through your boot. “It’s nothing.”

“Could get worse. Let me—”

“I said I’m fine.”

He paused, kneeling beside you anyway. “You never let anyone help you.”

You stiffened. “Because I don’t need help.”

“That’s not true.”

You turned to him, close enough to see the small scar just below his left eye. “Why do you care all of a sudden?”

“I’ve always cared,” he said, low and steady. “You just didn’t want to see it.”

Your breath caught.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then: voices above you. Mercs. You both froze, instinct kicking in.

They passed without spotting you, but the tension remained—thick, humming between you.

Later, after tagging the cargo and slipping out through the underground turbine tunnels, you stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“What you said. About caring.”

He looked at you, unreadable. “Yeah?”

You swallowed hard. “Why now?”

Bucky was quiet for a long beat. Then: “Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something every time you walk into a room.”

You stared at him.

“That’s not nothing,” he said, voice quieter now. “Not to me.”

Your mouth opened—then closed. Your pulse was hammering. This wasn’t how things went. Not with him. Not with you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you said honestly. “Especially with someone who spent the first three months acting like I was a grenade waiting to go off.”

“I was scared of you,” he admitted.

That made you laugh, shocked. “Seriously?”

“Not like that. I was scared of… what it’d mean if I let you in.”

You blinked. Something in your chest cracked open.

“You gonna let me in now?” you asked, soft.

He stepped closer. “You already are.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The kiss came fast. Surprising. But it made perfect sense.

His hand was in your hair. Yours gripped the front of his tac suit like an anchor. The heat between you flared, electric and urgent, until your earpieces burst to life.

“—code red! You two better be back at the jet or I swear I’m flying it into the river!” Yelena’s voice cut in, sharp.

You both pulled back, panting.

“I hate her timing,” you muttered.

“She’ll make fun of us for weeks,” Bucky added with a sigh.

You smirked. “Let her. She called this.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Back at the base, the teasing began immediately.

“See?” Yelena grinned. “I told you. They were one near-death experience away from ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“We didn’t—” Bucky started.

Ghost raised a brow. “Yet.”

Red Guardian simply clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Proud of you. It’s important to experience messy feelings.”

Bucky looked vaguely traumatized. You just sipped your coffee and refused to confirm or deny anything.

But that night, he found you on the rooftop. No words at first—just the shared silence of two people learning how not to guard themselves.

“You ever think about leaving?” you asked, watching the moonlight spill across the clouds.

“Used to,” he said. “Not so much now.”

You turned. “Why?”

He looked at you then, all that old sorrow tucked into the corners of his eyes—but softer now. Softer with you.

“Because for the first time in a long time, I’ve got something to stay for.”

Your breath hitched.

You stepped close, brushing your fingers along the edge of his vibranium hand. “Guess we’re both stuck, huh?”

His lips quirked. “Could be worse.”

“Could be a hell of a lot worse,” you agreed.

He leaned in, forehead resting against yours.

“Still think I’m insufferable?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you whispered.

And then you kissed him again—slow, certain, burning with everything that had built between you for months.

Enemies? Once.

Lovers? Maybe not quite. Not yet.

But something was beginning.

Something real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The mission in Berlin had gone sideways—again.

You were both limping, bruised, and covered in soot when you finally got back to the safe house, the adrenaline crash hitting like a freight train.

“You sure your ribs aren’t broken?” you asked as Bucky peeled off his jacket, wincing.

“Pretty sure,” he grunted. “Only cracked.”

You tossed a med kit on the couch. “Let me guess—‘I’m fine, I’ve had worse.’”

“I have had worse.”

“You’re still an idiot.”

He smiled at that. “Your idiot, though.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the casual softness of it.

“My idiot,” you repeated, like you were testing the phrase.

“Only if you want me to be,” he added, quieter now.

You didn’t answer—not with words. Just leaned in, your fingers brushing over the side of his jaw, then up into his hair as your lips found his. It was slower this time. Familiar. Like breathing.

When you pulled back, he looked at you like he was still catching up.

You grinned. “You talk a lot more now.”

“Only to you,” he said, lips curving.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

By morning, the bruises were darker, but the ache in your chest was something different. Something warmer.

He made coffee while you bandaged your shoulder. You stole his mug. He didn’t complain.

Yelena called, her voice echoing through the comms. “You two lovebirds alive or should I send Ghost to retrieve the bodies?”

“We’re alive,” Bucky replied dryly. “Barely.”

“Good. I had money riding on it.”

You laughed as he shut the comm off, shaking his head.

“You realize they’re never going to let this go, right?” you said.

“They’re the Thunderbolts. Teasing is how they show affection.”

You tilted your head. “So… you gonna tell them we’re official?”

Bucky sipped from your—well, his—mug and raised a brow. “We’re official?”

You shrugged, trying to look casual. “Unless that’s not what this is.”

He was quiet for a beat, then stepped closer, cupping your jaw with a hand that was warm and steady and real.

“It is. And I’m in,” he said simply. “All in.”

You smiled into the kiss that followed—messy, aching, perfect.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Later, as the Quinjet carried you both toward the next assignment, Ghost sat beside you with her hood down for once.

“You and Barnes,” she said. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted.

She looked at you for a long moment. “He’s different with you.”

You blinked. “Good different or… scary different?”

She almost smiled. “Soft.”

You glanced across the jet, where Bucky sat dozing lightly, head tilted toward you like gravity itself kept him close.

Your chest tightened in the best way.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He is.”

Not a happy ending. Not yet.

But something better.

A beginning.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month ago

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John: *does literally anything*

You: *puts him in a chokehold*

John: why?

You: you’re a prick and you hurt my baby boy. So you must pay.

John who-

Bob: I’m sorry.

John: get your fucking guard dog off of me.

Bob: actually no I won’t, you’re an asshole.

John: are you guys going to just watch me pass out?!

Ava: that’s entirely why we’re here.

Yelena: *eating popcorn* there’s nothing better.

Alexei: *coaching you* (name) make sure you tighten you hold to apply more pressure if you want to effectively make walker pass out within seconds, he’s talking too much-

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fanficgirl429 · 14 days ago

Text

Never Have I Ever (Adult Edition)

Prompt: The Thunderbolts decide to play Never Have I Ever. Much to Bucky's dismay Y/N becomes a little to willing to share about their sex life.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, 18+, minors do not engage

------

The Thunderbolts were somehow not blowing something up, which was impressive. Following a rare successful mission with zero civilian casualties and only one minor fire (which Ghost put out with a fire extinguisher and a smirk), they’d earned some downtime at Avengers Tower.

That’s how they ended up sprawled across mismatched couches and beanbags in the lounge, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, and a game of “Never Have I Ever: Adult Edition” already spiraling into chaos.

Bucky sat with his arm slung across the back of the couch, Y/N sitting with her back against the armrest, legs sprawled across the couch and onto Bucky’s lap. Both of them were holding half drunken beers in their hands.

Walker leaned in with a wicked grin. “Alright, next one. Never have I ever had sex in a quinjet.”

There were some groans, a couple of eye-rolls, and then two people drank: Yelena, with absolutely zero shame, and—Y/N .

Everyone turned.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and looked down at her, amused.

Y/N shrugged with a smug little smile. “What?! Don’t you remember we were stuck on a stakeout for 36 hours, and it was raining. I got bored.”

“Oh, I remember,” Bucky said, smirking.

Walker cackled. “You got bored? What about Barnes? Didn’t think he had the stamina for mid-mission extracurriculars.”

Y/N turned to the group, clearly tipsy and way too comfortable. “Oh, Bucky’s got plenty of stamina. I mean, you don’t survive a century of war and Hydra brainwashing without learning how to go for, like, five rounds in one night.”

There was a stunned silence.

Ava choked on his drink. “Five?”

“Depends if we count the shower,” she added, thoughtful now, as if doing math. “And the floor. Oh! And that time on the balcony. Though that one was more of a quickie, technically.”

Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hand. “Y/N …”

But Y/N was on a roll.

“You guys don’t understand,” she said, leaning forward like she was sharing state secrets. “This man is a menace. Silent, broody, acts all mysterious, and then he—”

“Y/N !” Bucky hissed, bright red now. “I swear to God—”

“—broke the headboard. Twice.”

Ava wheezed. “This is the best day of my life.”

Red Guardian was nodding proudly. “Good man. Strong arms. Knew it.”

Yelena pointed at Bucky with a raised brow. “You didn’t even flinch when she started talking about this. How often do you two—”

“Never have I ever had sex on a rooftop?” Ava interrupted.

Y/N smirked at Bucky and took a sip of her beer. She nudged him and he reluctantly took a drink as well.

“Damn, you two need to slow down,” Bob muttered.

Walker grinned wider. “Alright, my turn. Never have I ever hooked up with someone mid-mission. Like, you know, while still technically on duty.”

Yelena raised her glass slowly. “Well, technically I once had a quickie between two ops. Had to keep it quiet though—Walker nearly blew our cover trying to be discreet.”

Walker feigned offense. “I was being respectful!”

Ava laughed. “Respectful? You literally banged on the door like a gorilla.”

The room erupted into laughter, and even Bucky’s tension eased, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at Y/N .

“Never have I ever been tied up during sex,” Ava said with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge.

Y/N casually took a slow sip of their drink, trying to hide a small grin, while Bucky let out a low, amused sigh before following suit and taking a sip himself.

Bob leaned forward, curiosity lighting up his face. “Okay, seriously—what haven’t you done?” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“I have to know…was Y/N or Bucky tied up?” Yelena asked.

Y/N smirked and leaned into Bucky. “Hey, what happens in Avengers Tower stays in Avengers Tower.”

“Unless Y/N decides to broadcast it like a podcast,” Bucky muttered.

“Guilty,” she said with a wink.

Another few rounds of “Never Have I Ever” confessions followed, each one more hilariously embarrassing than the last, much to Bucky’s increasing discomfort.

“Enough!” Bucky stood, gently lifting Y/N ’s legs off him like she was a landmine. “We are never playing this game again.”

Y/N tilted her head back against the couch, grinning up at him. “You love me.”

“I love you less when you’re drunk and talking about my super-soldier stamina in front of everyone.”

“You love me most when I talk about your stamina.”

He froze, narrowed his eyes—and then bent down, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet.

“Okay. That’s it. We’re leaving.”

A chorus of protests rose up.

“Nooo, come on!”

“She didn’t even get to the balcony story!”

“Bucky, come on, share one detail—”

“Do not encourage her!” Bucky snapped over his shoulder as he led Y/N toward the elevator.

She gave the group a dramatic wave. “If the tower starts shaking later, mind your business!”

The elevator doors closed.

Ava turned to Yelenal. “Ten bucks says they’re doing it in there right now.”

Yelena sipped her whiskey. “Smart money’s on the elevator.”

2K notes · View notes

ironstrange1991 · 3 days ago

Text

Reblogging because today is valentine's day in my country 🥰❤️

A Night Like No Other

+18 Smut

Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Female!Reader

Synopsis: It's Valentine's day night and you prepare a special night for your Stephens.

Word Count: 9,5k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics, a little jealousy, mostly brain rot SMUT: oral sex with male and female receiving, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, creampie, cum eating (There's probably more but I don't remember)

A/N: I'm so happy to finally be posting this fic. I know it's two months late, but I've put so much work into it that I really can't believe it's ready. I really hope you guys like it and have a great read ;)

"Not this one." You murmured, looking at your endless collection of heels in your closet. "No, definitely not this one. Maybe… this one." You took a pair of red sandals in your hands, but then changed your mind when your eyes found the perfect pair you knew you were looking for. A pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps.

You stood on tiptoe to reach them and then you smiled mischievously to yourself heading to the bedroom bench and put them on. It had been a while since you wore those and you couldn't deny that you felt so powerful in them.

You folded your legs on the bench, positioning your feet so that your heels were clearly visible and took a photo, sending it directly to your three main contacts and giggling to yourself while writing the most cliché pick-up line you could think of at that moment.

WHEN YOU GUYS GET HOME TONIGHT, THIS IS ALL I'LL BE WEARING. ♥️

You replicated the message to the other two Stephens, reading it out loud to make sure the message was clear enough: You were waiting for the three of them that night to celebrate Valentine's Day.

You remembered perfectly the fiasco that was the last one. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but it definitely could have been a lot better. It had all happened because you weren't clear enough about what you wanted for the night, or at least you convinced yourself that it was your fault. You found you always put the blame on yourself so you didn't need to blame one Stephen or the other, but the truth was that navigating between the ego and jealousy of the three of them was the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your life.

It didn't take long for your cell phone to buzz with a response.

I WOULD ENJOY SO MUCH MORE IF THE SURPRISE WAS JUST FOR ME, BUT I CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME TONIGHT.

You didn't need to read the name at the top of the message to know it was Supreme, but even if it was hidden behind jealousy, you could capture the anxiety he felt about returning home and it made you smile from ear to ear. God, you had been with the three Stephens for a little over a year and a half, but you seriously doubted you would ever get used to the way they made you feel. Every time they came home you felt butterflies in your stomach, each loving message made your heart flutter in your chest. It was beautiful and scary at the same time.

You left your shoes on the floor next to the bench and went back to the closet, slipping into jeans and a jumper.

As you were grabbing your bag and keys and heading to the doors to leave you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening and a smile played on your lips before you saw it was just Wong.

"You shouldn't look so disappointed every time I come in. It's offensive." He said. You never knew when Wong was being serious or not, so you rushed to defend yourself.

"Today is Valentine's Day. I have reasons to be anxious for my boyfriends to get home."

Wong nodded as he dragged some boxes and then closed the portal. "Good thing you reminded me. That's reason enough for me not to want to be less than half a planet away from this Sanctum tonight. As if three Stranges wasn't reason enough."

"You say that, but I know deep down you can't live without Stephen, Wong." You smirked, unable to hold your tongue.

He scoffed "Yeah, right. Defender isn't that bad. The other two are the problem."

"Do not tell me that." You agreed "I'm going to the grocery store to get some things to prepare dinner. Do you want me to bring you something? I'm going to go near the Sandwich bar that sells that tuna melt that you love so much..."

"It's very kind of you to offer, but unfortunately - or fortunately - I'm returning to Kamar Taj."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."

"Bye."

When you parked in parking lot you heard your cell phone ringing and ran to answer it when you saw Stephen's name on the display.

"Hello you"

"Sending indecent photos to distract me from work. You should be embarrassed, sweetheart."

"Really? And what's indecent about the photo of my feet wearing those shoes?"

You can almost see him smirking on the other end of the line before replying, "Other than the message you sent with it, you mean?"

You giggled to yourself "And how effective was my attempt to make you want to come home sooner?"

"Hm, very effective."

You were surprised by the sound of a horn and two drivers fighting each other.

"Where are you?" Stephen asked.

"Walmart’s parking lot. I came to get some things to prepare for our romantic Valentine's Day dinner that you guys have been owing me since last year."

"That's great. And how romantic will this dinner be?" He teased.

"Very romantic. The kind where you have to dress all nice for me and wear that cologne of yours that I love."

"Noted. It's a shame I'm going to have to share you tonight, I'd much rather have you all to myself."

You found yourself rolling your eyes and agreeing one hundred percent with Wong, Stephen and Supreme were indeed the problem.

"Behave yourself" You scolded him, taking your bag and walking towards the store entrance. "It's important for me to have you three tonight. I've wanted this for so long..."

"You just had us together last week" He groaned in frustration.

"I'm not talking about... sex, Stephen" You had to lower your voice to say the word as you picked up the cart and headed towards the produce section.

"Really? I must have been fooled by the photo and message you sent half an hour ago."

"Shut up. Of course sex is a big part of tonight, but it's not just about that. It's about being together, talking, listening to music and having good wine."

Stephen hummed "Romance."

"Exactly. Just because you've already won over the girl doesn't mean you don't need to be romantic anymore, Stephen."

He chuckled "I leave the romanticism to Defender, he's better than me at that... and pretty much everything else apparently."

You sighed, finishing picking up the vegetables and heading towards the refrigerators where you hoped to find a good piece of meat to roast with them.

"I love you, Stephen, but please, no display of jealousy tonight. Please?"

"Okay, I'll behave, I promise."

"Thank you."

"I need to go. See you tonight, love."

"See you, Steph."

You turned off your cell phone and put it in your pocket and dedicated yourself to getting the rest of the things that were missing and walked towards the cashier.

...

You weren't exactly a great cook like Defender, but you always had a willingness to learn and some skill so you could even say that you were good in the kitchen.

You chopped the vegetables that consisted of carrots, onions, green beans, broccoli and tomatoes and dedicated yourself to seasoning the meat and put everything together in a pan wrapped with aluminum foil and put it in the oven for what you knew would be at least 2 hours.

While you waited, you decided to take a shower and took the opportunity to shave every inch of your body to make it smooth to the touch. You blow-dried your hair and used a styling mousse and put it in curlers. You took the opportunity to do all the steps of your skin care and applied lotion all over your body, taking the opportunity to use some body oil to give your skin a little shine. You didn’t even notice time passing while you were distracted taking care of yourself and being surprised by the alarm you had set on your cell phone so as not to let you forget about the roast in the oven.

You put on a robe and went downstairs.

The roast was practically done, so you got rid of the aluminum foil, drizzled the meat with more olive oil and just a little fleur de sel and returned to the oven to brown.

When you heard your cell phone buzzing you wiped your hands and rushed to read the message and smile to yourself feeling your heart fluttering in your chest.

ALWAYS A TEASE, BABY. CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME, JUST A FEW MORE MINUTES AND I'LL BE IN YOUR LOVELY ARMS. LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

You dedicated yourself to preparing the sauce for your pasta and left the pan full of water and salt on the stove, but besides that, everything needed to be put on hold because it was already past 6pm and you knew they would arrive at any moment and although the dinner was an important part of your evening, you were determined that sex should come first.

You turned off the roast, but kept it in the oven and prepared the table with a beautiful red tablecloth, positioning the plates and cutlery, glasses, and, of course, the candlesticks. A romantic dinner needs candlelight.

Once everything was organized, you went upstairs to finish getting ready. You let down your hair that fell in perfect waves to the middle of your back and put just a little gloss on your lips deciding that there was no reason to wear makeup since soon you would be with your face being pushed into the mattress. You smiled mischievously to yourself feeling the desire built inside you. You put on your heels and kept your promise not to wear anything other than them, keeping only the robe on until at exactly 7pm you heard the familiar squeak of a portal.

You smiled, feeling your cheeks get slightly warm and, taking off your robe, you left the room towards the entrance hall.

...

Stephen smiled to himself as he read the text you sent him. He would have replied it instantly if he hadn't been stuck in a meeting with the Avengers. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were going over all the details about the next mission and although Stephen knew the importance of resolving the problem as soon as possible, he was not at all happy about having to participate.

Supreme was at the meeting too, and Stephen could see the smile on his lips as he read a message on his cell phone that Stephen was sure was exactly the same as the one he had read. You wouldn't make the mistake of not being democratic in your provocation, not after the events of last Valentine's Day. It was extremely important to you that the three of them knew that you loved them equally.

Supreme quickly typed a response without bothering to be discreet, but Stephen preferred something more intimate, so he just put his cell phone back in the pocket of his robes.

"We will be in unknown territory, dealing with forces of which we have no knowledge..." Steve Rogers was pointing out the importance of concentrating on every detail of the plan, but was then cut off by Stark.

"Yeah, yeah, supernatural stuff. That's why we'll be taking with us not one, but two wizards."

Stephen rolled his lips, uncomfortable with the use of the wrong term. He wasn't a wizard and Stark knew that because he had already explained the difference a hundred times, but now Stephen was almost certain that Stark was referring to him that way to provoke him. Supreme, on the other hand, interrupted him, deciding to explain to the small Avengers audience.

"The correct term is sorcerer. Wizards are born with magic, we learned it with a lot of study and effort, although for us it came almost naturally."

Stark rolled his eyes, but continued with the explanation.

When the meeting ended Stephen managed to sneak into an empty room and call you. He wanted much more than just calling, he wanted to leave immediately, but first he needed to get back to Kamar Taj.

Once he and Supreme managed to leave the Avengers Tower, they headed directly there where they met with Wong and Defender and discussed matters relating to the maintenance of the Kamar Taj itself, the teaching and training of students, and the protection of the three Sanctums of power of the Earth. When the small informal meeting ended, Stephen looked at the clock realizing that it must already be almost 7pm in NY and was quick to decline Wong's offer to stay for tea.

"We have an appointment at home." Stephen explained evasively, but Wong smirked as if he knew more than Stephen could imagine.

"Sure, sure. Valentine's day and all. Y/n is planning a special night, I imagine."

Stephen nodded. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"You can call us if anything happens, as always." Defender added to what Supreme contradicted.

"Definitely not tonight. There are dozens of other masters you can call, Wong. We're off for the night and probably a good part of tomorrow as well."

Wong didn't bother to respond. He just closed some books that were on the table and organized them into a pile, picking them up and heading out the door.

"What a fucking day! I thought it would never end." Supreme complained.

"Let's go home" Defender said with a tired sigh and Stephen opened a portal being welcomed by the delicious smell of food and the realization of finally being home.

...

Defender Strange was sure that nothing in the world could be better than coming home and being greeted by his wife, but when he saw you coming down the stairs completely naked wearing only the heels you showed him in the photograph you sent earlier, he didn't know what to think. That fulfills all his fantasies.

You were beautiful. You are beautiful. The curvaceous body, the full breasts, the long hair cascading down to the middle of your back, little or no makeup other than a pink gloss on your lips and the typical smile of someone who promises and wants to be extremely provocative, but in reality it’s a shy little thing.

He didn't know how he was looking at you, much less how the other Stephens were reacting to that vision of paradise in front of them, but you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and your cheeks turned red.

"So?" Your voice sounded low.

Supreme took the initiative and approached you and touched your face affectionately and kissed your lips. Defender felt a pang of jealousy when you and Supreme were close, but he was used to not showing it and on the other hand - however contradictory it was - he couldn't deny that he liked seeing you with the other Stephens, that always turned him on.

"You look beautiful, honey."

Your cheeks turned a darker shade of red that Defender found charming.

"I confess the idea seemed sexier when I sent the message. Now I'm too self-conscious."

"You look beautiful" Defender and Stephen responded together and then laughed softly at the situation.

"Come here, give me a kiss, sweetheart. I loved the reception you prepared for us. You know I always love everything you do for us."

You took the hand he offered you and walked closer. Stephen grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to his lips and Defender felt his cock throb inside his pants. He wanted you so much. Ever since he saw that message, all he could think about was the moment he would have you on his lap riding him.

"I made dinner. Well, it's almost ready. There are still a few things to finish."

"I guess we can think about food later, don't you think?" Supreme suggested. "You have other needs that I want you to satisfy first." He smirked "That text... did things to me, honey."

Defender smirked. Supreme was so cheesy sometimes.

He finally approached you and touched your face.

"So bold sending us that photo when I know at home you're super shy, baby."

You blushed even more.

"Did you like it?"

"I loved the surprise. I loved that you prepared something special for our Valentine's Day. I love you so much, Y/n. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful for having you in my life."

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Defender Strange... how can I not love you when you say those things?"

He chuckled watching you hold his hand and take Stephen's hand and adjust it to hold them in one hand, while taking Supreme's hand with the other "Come on, let's go up stairs."

...

The master bedroom, Stephen's room, was the largest room in the Sanctum. Supreme had a hard time accepting Stephen staying with it, but he was aware that it made sense. For better or worse, Stephen was the Doctor Strange of that universe. That room was the setting for almost every night you had sex together for obvious reasons, it was the biggest room, it had the biggest bed and it felt the most right somehow and Supreme felt the familiar twist in his stomach caused by anxiety when you led the three of them directly to that room.

It was something difficult to explain and he never talked about it with the other Stephens - although he was sure the others felt the same way - but the reality was that he loved sharing you. He loved watching the other Stephens fuck you even though it also filled him with jealousy. Jealousy was hot.

Supreme still remembered the first time, it was your birthday and you had sex together for the first time. It was unforgettable, but everyone was so nervous and insecure that it was not possible to fully appreciate the moment. Now it was different. Foursomes became a common thing in your lives and every time it was incredible. Supreme always had the best orgasms when you let him cum in your mouth while he watched Defender and Stephen fucking you. It was so fucking hot. He was sure he could get stressed and jealous sometimes, but he could never be bored with the life you led. He often felt like he was living inside a porn movie. In the best way.

"Tell me, honey, what do you want to do with us tonight?" He teased when he realized how unsure you were about your next steps.

You bit your lip and then glanced to the two levitation cloaks still tied to his and Stephen's shoulders.

"Could you leave us alone for a moment?" You asked, gently stroking his blue cloak.

The two sentient relics flew out the door and slammed the door on the way out. His cloaky looking particularly offended at being left out.

"I'm pretty sure he wanted to stay and watch." Supreme joked, drawing a soft laugh from your lips.

"He's a brat. So different from Cloaky."

"The relic acquires the owner's behavior." Stephen teased.

"It's explained then" You said, approaching Supreme and kissing him with the passion he would never get used to. Sometimes it was impossible to understand how you could love him so much when he knew how complicated he was. But you loved him and that was always very clear in the way you touched him and especially kissed him.

You broke the kiss and smiled at him, "I love you. I know I say it every day, but today it's even more important to say it."

Supreme opened his mouth to respond, but you were ripped away from him by Stephen's arms, who pulled you to his chest in a clear display of jealousy. You giggled. You loved that. Supreme knew very well. You hated it when they fought - and they fought all the time - but you loved it all the same. You loved the triple attention you received, the kisses, the caresses and vows of love you received every day.

"Now you're going to have to say that to me too, sweetheart. You know I'm a jealous man." Stephen teased and you let out small giggles.

You held his face in your hands and spoke softly. "And I thought Supreme was the most jealous of the Stephens."

"Don't underestimate me, love."

You smiled openly, "I love you, Steph. You know how much."

He smiled proudly, "Then show me, kiss me and call me what you call me when we're alone."

Supreme felt the familiar tightening in his chest that jealousy caused in him and you gave Stephen a reprimanding glare.

"Come on, sweetheart. They know."

Supreme rolled his eyes when you smiled in surrender and kissed Stephen hard.

"I love you Steph. My Stephen."

He smiled smugly, but it was cut off by your direct order. "Now get in that shower, because I love you, but you're all sweaty."

He chuckled nodding in agreement "Yes ma'am."

Supreme even tried to stop himself from laughing, but he couldn't. However, you approached him right away.

"You too, Stephen. You three are sweaty."

He smirked "Want me to get in the shower with him?"

Defender chuckled, but said nothing.

"The idea is temptingly sexy, but I think you'd better use your shower."

He agreed, but couldn't help but point out "I thought we would get straight to the best part, that you were missing us so much and couldn't wait to have us in your arms."

"I am and that was the idea, but reality often prevails over fantasy and the three of you are smelling the heat of Kathmandu."

Ouch. "Okay, I'm coming." He said surrendering. Stephen was already in the shower, the sound of the water indicating that Supreme was behind in the race to get back into your arms first.

...

You were super self-conscious about being the only naked person there and wearing those heels on top of that. The sexy image of the situation that popped into your head when you sent the text to them was long gone, but all it took was a smile from Defender to make you feel better.

"I'm still surprised by how naturally you can deal with the three of us, you know? It's almost as if you were made for us." He said pulling you into his arms.

"Almost?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, to which he smiled in surrender.

"Definitely made for us." He corrected and kissed you tenderly.

"Practice makes perfect."

"In our case, I would say that time has helped a lot. Do you remember last year?" He teased to which you grimaced.

"Don't even remind me."

He laughed softly "I'm going to take a shower too. Wait for me. Promise?"

You smiled throwing yourself onto the bed "I'll be right here. Don't be long."

You lay down on the bed, pulling Stephen's pillow close to your nose so you could bask in his scent and a victorious smile played on your lips as you realized for the thousandth time that you were about to go to bed with three Stephens. Sex was important. God, the sex was incredible, but what really enchanted you about it was the realization of being loved by Stephen. Some people are never loved, you were loved and not just once but three times and by the same man. That meant something.

Defender always talked to you about how he believed that the love you felt for each other went beyond the barriers of universes and you couldn't say how, but you were sure he was right. You loved Stephen the moment you first saw him and it was like that with Defender and Supreme and god help you, you would never say that to them, but if ten more Stephens appeared in your universe, you would have no choice but to love them too.

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you even noticed that Stephen had gotten out of the shower, only realizing it when his baritone voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"A penny for your thoughts." He teased and you smiled, rolling over on the bed so you could see him. He was wet from the shower, the towel tied around his waist but hanging dangerously below his v line, his hair wet and carelessly pulled back.

"God, you're a beautiful bastard."

He raised his eyebrow and a cocky smile played on his lips.

"So that's what you were thinking about? How beautiful I am?"

You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Don't be cocky. Come on, put your tongue to do something more productive than bragging."

He threw himself on the bed, crawling over you and tickling the sides of your ribs, which made you giggle.

"No, please Steph, I can't..."

"Not so bossy now, are you?" " He teased "Then tell me how you want me to use my tongue then."

You held his face in your hands. “Like this.”

You kissed him hard and he hummed adorably on your lips, but soon after he took control of the kiss and started to grind an obvious erection on your thigh.

"Look what you do to me. You haven't even touched me yet and I'm already like this. To be honest, you've made me hard since you sent me that photo. You have no idea how much I wanted to abandon what I was doing and come home to fuck you."

You smiled smugly and kissed his lips again "It worked then."

"You have no idea" He said on your lips "But I would rather have this night just for the two of us."

You pouted "Behave. You know how important it is for me to have these moments for the four of us, especially on special dates like today."

He smirked "I know you're dirty and insatiable, that's why you need three of me to handle you."

You felt your face flush, but there was no reason to deny it. "It's true, but it's only because I love you so much. That's what I was thinking actually, how I love you so much to the point of loving three versions of you."

He kissed you and went back to grinding himself on your thigh. He was trying to hold back, but you knew he was dying to have you and knowing that made you feel so powerful.

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve so much love..."

"Shhh, of course you do. You deserve that and more. And you can accuse me as much as you want of being insatiable for wanting three of you, but we both know that you like sharing me in bed."

Now it was his turn to blush and that made a petulant smile appear on your lips.

"Do not tease me." He warned, but you weren't about to go back on your words.

"Why not? What are you going to do? Fuck me senseless? Hard and rough? Thank god, that’s what I want."

He held your chin tight. "That's what you're going to get if you don't behave."

"Then I won't behave." You threatened and Stephen pulled you into his lips, but the two of you were interrupted by the creak of the door opening and Supreme's voice.

"And why won't you behave, honey?" He asked and you just smiled watching him approach. He was only dressed in sweatpants and his face was slightly flushed showing that he had shaved before coming back to you. He threw himself on the bed and opened his arms waiting for you to throw yourself into them and Stephen rolled to the other side of the bed letting you have your moment together.

You hugged him and he wrapped you in his arms kissing you hard and then looked at Stephen waiting for an answer.

"She's being a brat and I warned her there will be consequences." Stephen informed Supreme and you laughed, turning to face him, but letting yourself be enveloped and pulled closer by Supreme's arms.

"Maybe I want to be punished." You confessed and Supreme groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"What did we do to deserve a girl like you, honey?"

You let out a small laugh "I hope you mean that positively."

He giggled "Always."

Stephen laughed softly and Supreme pulled you into his lips again. You let yourself be guided, your hands touched his face and a satisfied hum escaped your lips.

"You shaved. I prefer it like this." You said with a smirk to which he chuckled.

"You live with a Stephen who has a goatee and another who has a full beard but can't handle a little stubble?

You shook your head, stroking his face. "It's not the same. I like having a clean shaved Stephen." You rum your index finger on his chin "It's smooth"

Stephen giggled and you rolled closer to him pulling him to your lips “I like the differences.”

"Yeah, we know" They both laughed softly and you took turns holding their lips and hands and that felt like heaven to you. There was no other word to explain it.

Defender arrived a minute later, his hair loose as it rarely was and wearing a pair of pajama pants that made his v line and a prominent erection very visible. You wondered if he had been hard the whole time or if seeing you in bed with Stephen and Supreme had immediately left him in that state. You knew well that Defender liked to observe. All three liked it.

"We've been waiting for you, baby. Come here." You reached out to him and sat on the bed between the Stephens to welcome him with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he let himself be pulled on top of you, your legs opening for him to settle between them to which he moaned softly.

"She's so greedy" Stephen told Supreme "...and so fucking perfect. Fuck, sweetheart. I need you."

You smiled smugly on Defender's lips and gently pushed him to let you stand up.

"So tell me what you guys want. I confess I spent the day thinking about sucking your cocks."

"So fucking dirty." Defend hissed.

"She was never a saint, but I admit she got a lot worse with your arrival." Stephen replied with that beautiful smile on his lips.

You loved that. You loved it when they talked about you like that between them, you loved seeing them understanding each other and talking to each other as if they were a single person - which in fact they were - it was a strong turn on for you.

Supreme smiled seeming to read your mind. "I think she might start with that, don't you? I can only speak for myself, but I've been dying for a blowjob ever since I saw that text."

Stephen nodded "Yeah, me too. But I'm going to want more than a simple blowjob and she knows that."

Defender chuckled and you pouted feigning innocence.

"Are you going to let these two mean Stephens abuse me, baby?"

He cupped your face in his hands and hummed condescendingly, "More than that, baby. I'll love watching."

You could have cum with just those words. You were so wet between your legs that your thighs were sticking together and you could smell your arousal. All that teasing, the game you played was exactly what worked for you, it was what made you love having the three of them at the same time and it worked perfectly when they behaved themselves and tonight they were more than determined to behave, apparently.

"I think I saw a blush on these cheeks." Stephen teased and you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Shut up and get comfortable you three."

They laughed and got comfortable on the bed, sitting next to each other and that sight never failed to impress you. It was so pornographically glorious. You smiled to yourself and tied your hair in a bun with the same determination as a warrior preparing for a fight. You were definitely a woman on a mission.

"Come here, sweetheart, I want to be first." Stephen asked, extending his hand to you. You crawled over to him and kissed him sweetly and your hands freed him from the towel. He raised his hips enough for you to pull and throw it on the floor. He was so hard already. The tip was red and slightly sticky with precum. You couldn't resist, so you held him tight and kissed his head feeling your eyes close and a moan of satisfaction escape your lips as the other Stephens giggled.

"Don't get cock drunk yet, honey, there are two more cocks to suck." Supreme teased.

Stephen held your face, taking his cock in his hand and impatiently directing it into your mouth. "Take it, sweetheart. Give me a hard suck."

You opened your mouth big for him and did as he asked, emptying your cheeks to suck hard, which made him moan outrageously loud. "Oh yeah, sweetheart. Show me what you can do."

But he didn't give up control, on the contrary, he held the back of your head and pushed you against his dick making you swallow it whole and gag in the process.

"Look at that!" Supreme exclaimed and you couldn't see him now with your eyes closed, but you'd bet all your chips that he had his cock in his hands, jacking off as he watched. He was dirty like that, and you loved that about him.

You could barely breathe with your mouth stuffed with Stephen's cock like that, tears welled up in your eyes and ran down your face.

"She takes it so perfectly." Defender pointed out. "She was made for us, wasn’t she?"

Stephen moaned in satisfaction, taking his cock out of your throat to let you breathe.

"I could cum in your throat right now. That's how good this mouth in my cock feels, sweet girl."

You coughed and ran your hands over your face to wipe away the tears and smiled. "I love when you call me like that."

Stephen smirked, "Yeah? You love everything I do to you, sweetheart. Now come here and give me a kiss before I let you go with them."

You let yourself be pulled to his lips and kissed him hard, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"I love you." You said between his lips.

"I love you too. Go now and make me proud."

"Always" You assured, letting yourself be enveloped by Defender's arms. He kissed you hard. Harder than usual and his fingers tangled in your hair and your knees went weak.

"Seeing you with them drives me crazy, baby. I can't deny that I like this more than I should." He confessed in your ear, but loud enough for the others to hear.

"They like it too" You teased throwing a mischievous glance at the other two. "Let's give them something to watch."

Defender smirked letting you free him from his pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear and you doubted there was anything sexier than a handsome man wearing pants without underwear. You threw his pants on the floor and planted a kiss on his lips before spitting into your hand and holding him, moving up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

One of the things that became increasingly clear to you as time went by was that they were different in almost every way even though they were the same person. With Defender what worked was calmness, glances, affection. He might fuck you harder eventually, but almost every time you made love it was slow, calm and delicious. And that was how he liked to be touched.

He bit his lip to hold back a moan when you bent down and gave a long lick from the base to the tip, stopping to flick your tongue on the head.

You smiled proudly. "Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear you. I like hearing how happy I'm making you." You asked, taking him in your mouth and sucking slowly, using your tongue all the time the way he liked.

He moaned louder, but still restrained. One of his hands grabbed your hair, but he didn't push. Defender never pushed. "So, so happy, baby. Shit... this lips feels so good wrapped around my cock like that."

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth and you took it out of your mouth smiling your best smile at him. "Yeah? Your cock feels amazing pulsing in my mouth too. But I don't want you to cum yet, baby."

He shook his head "It doesn't matter, you know I have as many rounds as you want to give you."

"Shit, that sounded presumptuous even to us, but coming from him it sounds even weirder." Supreme teased, but Defender completely ignored him pulling you into his lips.

"Tell me you love me." He asked softly on your lips and you buried your face in his neck, surrendering to his charm.

"More than anything, baby. Love you so much."

Defender held your chin and kissed you softly. "Better not let Supreme hear that." He said with a provocative smile on his lips that wasn't really like him, but that made him even more handsome.

Impatient, Supreme took your hand pulling you from Defender's lap gently but insistently. "Come here, honey. I've waited too long."

You couldn't help but giggle at the serious way he said it. As if you were somehow making him suffer by waiting his turn.

You let yourself be manhandled and he positioned you straddling his lap. "Always you, isn't it, Supreme Strange?"

He smirked positioning his shaking hands to the sides of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss.

"You complain, but you love the way I am, honey."

You could have rolled your eyes, but you didn't want to provoke him so you didn't. "If what you want is for me to suck your cock, you should try to be less cocky."

He gave you that beautiful sideways smile of his, "But I know you want to blow me as much as I want it."

"Seriously, just for tonight, can't you be less of yourself, Supreme?" Stephen complained and although you weren't looking at him, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.

"You better get to work, honey."

You let out a small giggle and dismounted his lap, helping him get rid of the pants he was wearing and immediately took him in your hands. He was so deliciously hard for you, the tip wet with precum from being stimulated by his own hands. You licked the tip to savor the salty taste and this time you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back, but for an entirely different reason.

"Oh fuck, honey. Put it all in your mouth, please. Suck it hard, make me cum. I don't care. You know I'm going to stay hard for you anyway."

You did exactly what he asked, adding one hand to his balls, stimulating him as much as possible, rotating the other hand at the base while sucking and licking. Taking your time and enjoying it as much as him.

"So delicious... fuck, honey, keep going just like that. Gonna fill your mouth with milk. I spent all day thinking about doing that."

You hummed contentedly and went even deeper, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and hearing the sounds of approval from the other Stephens at the same time as you felt the mattress dipping and Stephen moving in your peripherals.

"Get your pretty ass up for me, sweetheart." Stephen asked, slapping your ass cheek and you obeyed, moaning loudly when you felt his tongue lapping your folds, the friction of his goatee making you see stars. You immediately started moving your hips against his mouth and he grabbed your thighs, correctly taking the action as encouragement.

Supreme grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed you against his cock making you swallow him completely.

"F-Fuck... take it, honey. Take all of it. Oh shit." He moaned loudly spilling down your throat and making your eyes water. He took his cock out of your mouth allowing you to vocalize the pleasure that Stephen's fierce tongue was providing you now that he was sucking your ass.

This was new for you and you didn't understand how it could be so pleasurable, but Stephen had the gift of addicting you to new and different things and you loved it. Sex with them could never get boring.

Supreme patted your cheek and ran his hand through the hair that insisted on falling across his forehead. "That mouth of yours is otherworldly, honey. I just put my dick inside it and I cum."

You smiled, but before you could respond a moan broke through your lips when Stephen added his fingers to the sum of the stimulation, penetrating you with them.

"That's it. Moan loudly for us. Let us hear how good it feels." Supreme teased, holding your chin with one hand and making you suck his index finger.

“Delicious,” Stephen rasped. "I could spend the whole night like this."

But contrary to what he said, he pulled away enough to direct his cock at your entrance and forced it slowly. "So fucking tight. No matter how many times I fuck this pussy, it's always so tight."

You moaned loudly feeling yourself being impaled by his cock and Supreme smirked at something Defender said and walked away letting him get closer to you.

"I want your mouth a little more, baby. Please." He asked, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You placed your hands on his thighs and took him in your mouth again, sucking voraciously. It was hard to be gentle when Stephen was fucking you so hard.

Defender took your hair in his hands and let himself be carried away by the moment. "Fuck baby, so good. You suck my cock so good."

You kept your eyes open to watch him, he had his eyes fixed on Stephen fucking you and you knew that was exactly what was making his dick throb so hard in your mouth. The obscenity of it all.

"Oh God, baby. I love watching you get fucked like this. So fucking hot."

Stephen slapped your ass in agreement. "Come on, sweetheart, suck his cock and make him cum in your mouth. I want to see it." He ordered, increasing the strength of his thrusts, which became increasingly irregular.

Defender moaned loudly and you felt his thighs shaking. "Oh baby... gonna cum... oh yeah baby, can I cum in your mouth?"

You hummed positively and a part of your brain thought it was cute that he had even bothered to ask.

"F-Fuck... oh come on baby... take it..." His voice sounded broken as hot cum filled your mouth. A lot of it.

"So fucking good..." He mumbled between moans, caressing your face and taking his cock out of your mouth. "Let me see it."

You obeyed, opening your mouth so he could see his cum inside and then swallowing and sticking your tongue out at him dramatically so he could see.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He murmured, bending down to kiss you and Stephen moaned loudly, giving two harder thrusts and then spilling himself inside you.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart... You're too good to be true." He confessed breathlessly and then pulled out. His cum dripping down your abused pussy.

Your legs shook and you fell face down on the mattress, but Supreme pulled you into his arms.

"Look what you do to us. It's impossible to last when you're so irresistible."

You smiled, pulling him to your lips. "Is this a complaint?"

You heard Defender and Stephen giggling and the sound filled your heart with such great love with the realization that you were having this moment together and they weren't fighting each other, on the contrary, you could swear that at that point they were practically united against you and you didn't know if you could take it.

"And what man would be crazy to complain about having a woman like you, honey?"

You pulled him back to your lips while squeezing your thighs together. They could have had theirs, but you needed to have yours and if possible, you wanted to have it more than once.

Supreme got the message quickly and got between your legs, spreading them with his arms and holding them open while he eat you. He didn't care that Stephen had cum in you seconds before and the notion of that only made the oral even more pleasurable. Your back arched and your eyes closed immediately and a pornographic moan escaped your lips. You could cum right then if he continued, but Supreme had other plans. He licked your ass, leaving enough saliva there and directed his dick at your entrance, penetrating it slowly.

You still remembered the first time you had anal, it was with Supreme and you were so uncertain about the whole thing, but now you loved it, you loved the strange sensation and the peculiar pleasure that took over once he was inside you. . You liked it so much that you wondered if there was something wrong with you since women aren't supposed to enjoy it that much.

Supreme moaned loudly, laying on top of you slowly and giving your body time to get used to the sensation, then he grabbed your thigh and pulled it so that you intertwined your legs around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper.

"Oh Stephen... feels so good." You confessed, wrapping your arms around him. "Move, please."

He did as you asked, moving slowly at first, but gradually increasing the intensity of his thrusts until he reached a frantic rate.

"Y-Yes, oh yes, Steph, just like that, fuck me just like that..."

He took your lips in a desperate kiss, fucking you at the same rhythm incessantly, the bed creaked, the headboard hit the wall and your moans were so loud. Next thing you know, you had one of your hands between you rubbing your clit to get as much stimulation as possible and your legs were shaking and you felt like you were about to cum. No one could be more sexually fulfilled than you at that moment, but that was exactly the problem, you didn't want to finish, not yet.

"Wait... Stephen... wait. Gonna cum... don't make me cum yet."

He stopped and pulled out with a cocky smile plastered on his lips. "That good, uh? Want me to stop for a bit and let the others have fun with you now?"

You nodded biting your bottom lip. Something about the way he said it sounded so dirty.

He rolled to the side running his hand through his hair "You can barely handle one, how can you handle the three of us?" He teased and you found the strength within you to tease back "I can take it. I always do."

He chuckled in satisfaction at your response and you opened your arms allowing Defender to snuggle into them.

"Baby, I need you. Tell me you're ready for me again."

He let himself be hugged and kissed you hard. His lips moved up to your ear and he confided. "I haven’t even softened, baby."

You pulled him to your lips again, but pushed him away so you could get on top of him. He hummed contently letting you take control and direct him inside you. It was to be imagined, given the rivalry that existed between them, that Defender would not like to be in a submissive position when the other Stephens were around. In fact, it was like that at first, but now he didn't care and you were sure the others loved watching. Before Defender you weren't used to being in that position, but with him you got a taste for it and there was nothing in the world that made you feel more powerful than riding him.

His shaking hands grabbed your waist and he moaned loudly feeling you sink down onto his dick. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him to your lips, kissing him desperately as you began to move up and down and gyrating your hips sensually as you did so. You lolled your head back, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure you felt and Defender took the opportunity to bury his face between your breasts. The other Stephens watched attentively and Stephen, unable not to intervene, grabbed your chin and kissed you.

You kept your pace fast and steady, your body responding to the sensations in all the right ways.

"Oh god, baby, cock feels so good inside me, make me wanna cum so hard." You confessed between moans and Defender pulled you back to his lips.

"Cum for me then, baby. Don't hold back. We've all had one, it's your turn now. You can use me to have it. Fuck me any way you want."

How sweet. He was always so sweet and wonderful all the time that it didn't surprise you that the others were a little more jealous when compared to him and to be honest, you loved it.

"Oh shit, baby. Gonna cum." You moaned loudly, riding him faster and harder, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your stomach.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and your pussy contracted tightly around him.

"Fuck baby... squeezing me so hard... gonna make me cum too."

You were so lost in your pleasure that you could barely form a complete sentence "Please... with me."

Defender moaned loudly, wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you move on top of him and your hands got lost in his hair, pulling him to your lips in one last act of passion and ecstasy until you both came together amidst moans and loudly breathing.

You both came down from your high slowly and there was a proud smile on Defender's lips. He kissed you gently and helped you dismount him.

"Come here, sweetheart." Stephen asked, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. "Let's play a little, what do you think? Me, you and Supreme. You always feel so tight with two dicks inside you."

You bit your bottom lip feeling your cheeks flush, but you let yourself be manhandled. He positioned you on top of his dick and entered you slowly. The squelching sound it made from you being filled with cum was so obscene and so good. You moaned loudly. It didn't matter that you had just cum, you wanted more.

Stephen kissed you and moaned into the kiss. Supreme came from behind, positioning himself in the best way to make the three of you comfortable. The tip of his cock poked your ass and you closed your eyes feeling him slowly penetrate you. It was always a strange sensation, you felt too full and uncomfortable before the pleasure appeared, but it appeared and was always very strong.

"Oh yeah, honey, such a tight ass... squeezing my dick so hard."

You moved slow. Stephen held your waist and helped you slowly move up and down and Supreme carefully moved back and forth. The thing with double penetration is that it's not like it is in the movies, for all parties involved to feel pleasure you need to do it slowly, but once you learn how to do it, it's addictive.

"Oh Stephen... feels so good."

You let yourself be pulled into Supreme's lips and then back into Stephen's as they both thrust into you at a lazy, infectious pace. You loved being fought over like that, there was something devilishly sexy about taking turns between two men's lips. "So fucking good... fucking me... good."

The two laughed softly, observing that you could barely formulate a sentence at that point.

Supreme placed one hand on the headboard and the other on your shoulder and increased the strength of his thrusts and you and Stephen moaned together with the increased stimulation.

"Shit, gonna cum in your ass, honey. Its too good... too tight... I can't..."

He moaned loudly and the grip of his hand on your shoulder also tightened and you felt him cuming inside you.

"F-fuck yes..." He gasped "Oh shit." He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a hard kiss and then pulled out and threw himself on the bed.

Stephen took the opportunity to hold you around your waist and place you underneath him with your face on the mattress and your ass in the air. He quickly penetrated you again and you moaned loudly feeling the delicious sensation of being fucked from behind. But he wasn't gentle, he was too far beyond that, too lost in his own pleasure.

Thrust after thrust he fucked you, pushing your face against the mattress and moaning loudly, completely surrendered, looking for his release.

"You love this, don't you?" He teased "Tell me how much you love taking it from behind."

You moaned loudly feeling like you were close to cumming again. That was something that before the Stephens you thought was impossible, but anal orgasms were possible and were usually the most intense ones you had.

"Steph... gonna make me cum... again." You confessed, completely surrendering to him.

"Yeah? Are you going to cum with my dick in your ass? So fucking dirty. You love being a dirty girl for us, don't you? That's why you sent that text to the three of us, because you wanted to be fucked like that... like a fucking whore."

“Y-yes” You stammered feeling his teasing push you over the edge.

"Then be a good girl and cum with daddy's cock in your ass. Show the other Stephens how much you enjoy it. Come on, sweetheart, I'm right behind you. I'm going to fill this sweet ass with cum."

You moaned loudly, letting yourself be pushed towards the oblivion of everything earthly and launching yourself into ecstasy. Your legs shook beneath him, your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm.

Stephen gave three more thrusts and stopped completely, moaning and letting himself spill inside you. When he was done he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed the top of your head gently and then pulled out and rolled it to the side.

It took you a few seconds to catch your breath and finally turn around and face the ceiling with a silly smile on your lips.

"This was amazing." You praised before giving in to the giggles. "I doubt there is a woman in this world who is more sexually fulfilled than I am tonight."

The three giggled and you felt yourself being pulled into Stephen's arms. He kissed the top of your head before pulling you to his lips. "I can say the same, sweetheart. No man could be happier than we are to have you."

You wrapped your arms around him and felt the tiredness domination you.

“Tired?” Stephen teased.

You smiled lazily “ I think I need a shower, I'm dripping cum."

The three of them burst into laughter and Defender took the lead, extending his hand to you and helping you stand up.

...

"The pasta is ready, baby, we can add it to the sauce now." Defender reported being extremely helpful. He had offered to help you finish dinner while the other Stephens were in the shower and you couldn't refuse to have that sweet domestic moment with him.

"The sauce is already boiling. Can you add the pasta for me while I stir?"

He did as you asked and came back with the parmesan cheese he had magically grated for you to use.

Without holding back, he stole a strand of pasta to try. "It's divine, love. I love the food you make, the seasoning you add... divine." He praised searching for your lips. You kissed him softly and then pulled away, handing him the platter with the roast and vegetables. "Can you take this to the table for me, baby?"

He nodded, taking the dish and walking away and you couldn't help but laugh when you realized how you both were dressed. So different from what you had planned and yet so perfect. He was shirtless, barefoot, with his hair in a bun and was only wearing pajama pants.

"What is it?" He asked confused.

"Nothing" You said "I just realized that we're going to have our romantic dinner dressed like we're having a sleepover."

He smirked "I like seeing you in my old t-shirts."

You smiled hearing the familiar chatting of the other Stephens approaching. "And I love wearing them. Now take these and come back to get the pasta."

He smiled “Yes, love.”

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