#at this point in the timeline Steve has only been shot from waist down in Eddie’s Tiktok account | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

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comfortbucky · 3 years

Note

requests? did someone say requests??😌

fluffy headcanon, mafia boss!bucky comes home after being away for a week or so and it’s just a cute ass reunion between the reader & him with lots of kisses & hugs n shit

or(take your pick) :)

one shot, where john walker is really rude to reader(insults her & shit), but she stands up for herself. they(her & john) get into a fight & bucky finds out by surprisingly swinging by her apartment. of course bucky is pissed, but he tends to her wounds. then for some stupid reason, john shows up at readers apartment & bucky loses it. but it ends in bucky admitting his feelings to reader n some fluff 😩

hope you find motivation for at least one of these:😚

hi yes hehe i did say requests🙈

i’m a sucker for tfatws!bucky so- (and john walker is a rat bastard🤣 so lemme go off)

𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!avenger!reader

warnings: john walker (grr), violence! and descriptions of bloody injuries

A/N: also! i sort of changed the prompt i hope u don’t mind too much🥺 // this oneshot will not be taking place during the canon timeline btw but inspired by the events/themes of tfatws

word count: 1.5 k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N sighed, as she plopped onto the couch after a long day. She, Bucky, and Sam had spent the whole day researching the Flagsmashers to try and track them down. It took all day, partially because Bucky needed a little extra help with learning how to use his laptop. She chuckled at the memory, grabbing the remote to turn her TV on. Suddenly, a loud, aggressive, knock interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and leaned her head on the back of her couch, taking a moment to debate leaving her very comfortable spot, before getting up to answer the door. Y/N knew that she probably should have peeked through her peephole before answering, but she wanted to return to the comfort of her couch as soon as possible. She opened it to see none other than John Walker, greeting her with a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing here, John? How the hell did you even get my address?”

“All government property has GPS tracking in it," he said, pointing to her laptop on the kitchen table behind her. She turned and frowned as he continued. "Look, you need us, me and Battlestar, to take down Karli.” She looked back at John, laughing at Lemar’s alias.

“No way I’m letting someone who goes by Battlestar help me out.” He glared at her comment. “Or you, a Captain America wannabe.”

John took an aggressive step closer, way too close for Y/N’s comfort, as he replied. “I am Captain America, whether you like it or not.”

"You'll never be Captain America," she snapped back. "You don't have what it takes." He glared at her and put his face right in front of hers.

"How would you know? You're a pathetic excuse for a soldier," he spat and Y/N grimaced at John's spit landing on her cheeks. He looked at her, his eyes examining her body. She hated every second of it, his stare making her feel grimy all over, like she immediately needed a shower. “Who’d you fuck to get into the Avengers anyways? Bet it was Steve.”

John’s comment was immediately followed by Y/N’s fist connecting with his cheek, forcing him to stagger back into the hall. She’d heard concerns about her abilities as an Avenger before, calling her weak, fragile, a bitch, etc. But she knew they almost always came from misogynistic men, and was able to shrug their comments off because she knew that she could easily beat all of them to a pulp, no problem. But thinking that she would sleep her way into becoming an Avenger crossed a line. Especially someone she respected and had admired as much as Steve.

John held his hand to his cheek, where he’d been hit, and looked up to make eye contact with Y/N. He smiled and before stating in a condescending tone, “That was cute.” John kicked her in the stomach, launching her onto the floor of her apartment. As she groaned and started to get up, John chuckled and kicked her down before she got to her knees. He went to kick her again when she rolled away, dodging his kick and standing up quickly, panting as she responded.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

She kicked her leg up to deliver a roundhouse kick to John’s face, spinning around to punch his nose. He stumbled a couple steps back, regaining his balance before swinging a punch towards Y/N. She caught his fist before it hit her and John took the opportunity to use his free hand to grab his shoulder and knee her in the stomach. She gasped, getting the wind knocked out of her. He then threw her into a shelf, shattering several photo frames on the ground. She landed on her stomach, attempting to get up by pushing her self up on her forearms. Y/N felt a warm liquid on her cheek and touched it, pulling it away from her face to see her fingertips covered in blood.

“Asshole,” she mumbled, before standing up to continue fighting.

Several moments ago, Bucky had made the decision to show up at Y/N’s apartment. He pressed some random keys on his computer, and now there was an error message that wouldn’t go away on his screen. Stubbornly, he tried to fix it on his own but ended up making it worse. He sighed in defeat, closing his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm before heading over towards her apartment. Bucky was just down the hall when he heard the sound of glass shattering, his leisurely stroll turning into a sprint to Y/N’s door.

Bucky arrived to see you pinned up against a wall with John’s hand around ur throat. Your hands were desperately clawing at John’s, attempting to free yourself from his grasp. Fear and terror consumed him before a wave of fury took over. Immediately, Bucky launched into action, dropping his laptop in the process. He ripped John away from you, tossing him on the ground. Bucky moved to hover over John, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N finally caught her breath and crawled over to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stop. He kept his eyes on John’s bloody and bruised face, lowering his fist.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” he snarled, releasing John from his grasp.

John rolled over, took a moment to catch his breath. Bucky was standing, fists still clenched by his sides, as he watched John get up and exit Y/N’s apartment without another word.

He closed the door behind him and immediately spun around to see Y/N struggling to get up, attempting to push up from one of her knees. Bucky instantly rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. He grabbed one of her hands in his own and placed his other hand on the small of her back, as he guided her to the couch. He examined her and felt a pain in his chest, looking at her black eye, cut cheek, and her bruised neck outlined with John’s handprint. Without saying a word, he stood up and returned with a first-aid kit from her bathroom. He sat back down and immediately started to tend to her wounds. As Bucky started to disinfect the cut on her cheek, he spoke.

“That was stupid of you,” he mumbled, gently dabbing antiseptic ointment on her cut. It was a drastic contrast from his behavior only minutes ago, nearly ready to murder John. He took a bandaid from the kit and delicately placed it on her cheek. Bucky then moved his hand to assess her black eye, his thumb softly grazing a soft patch of skin under her eye. She frowned and lightly pushed his hand away.

“I would’ve been fine on my own, you know.”

“Sit still so I can take a look at your bruise.” He responded gruffly, lifting his hand and attempting to look at her bruised eye again. She shoved his hand away, this time more aggressively, and tried to stand up.

“Just leave me alone,” Y/N said, wincing and clutching her abdomen in pain, causing Bucky to grab her waist and slowly lower her back down onto the couch. Fucking John Walker.

“Y/N.”

She pulled his hands off her and reluctantly sat down to face him.

“You don’t need to defend me, Bucky,” she spoke, Bucky sensing anger in her voice. “I’m not some weak, helpless civilian. I’m a god damn Avenger for christ sake!” As Y/N shouted, her voice wavered and her eyes started to well up with tears.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and Bucky sat with his hands resting on his lap. Although she was speaking to Bucky, she felt like she was more-so trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“I know,” he said calmly, but with a stern tone, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Okay, so leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!”

“Because I fuckin’ care about you!” Bucky shouted, causing Y/N’s face to immediately soften.

Her arms dropped to rest in her lap and she froze as Bucky softly raised his hand to cup her cheek, captivated by his touch. He cautiously moved, worried she would push his hand away again, but she didn’t. His thumb gently caressed her non-cut cheek and he pulled her face close to his. She felt his breaths fan her face as he spoke.

“I know you’re one of the strongest Avengers,” he started. “And I know you could kick John’s ass any day of the week. But I care so much about you and I need you to be okay.” Bucky’s lips hovered over Y/N’s, lightly brushing against hers.

“I need you, Y/N.”

She responded by crashing her lips onto his, moving her hands to hold his face closer to hers. The kiss was full of passion, love, and unspoken feelings. When they broke apart, gasping for air, Y/N smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I care about you too, Buck.”

Bucky had never seen such a bright light in his 106 years of living.

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Your doll 1// Skipping Ahead

Pairings | Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x f!Stark!Reader

Series synopsis | Y/n, Steve and Bucky are now in Wakanda, 2 months after the events of civil war. All is peaceful - but will it stay this way, especially after Steve has one very special question?

Series Warnings | smut, violence, swearing, threesomes,

Chapter Summary | y/n, Bucky and steve have settled into wakanda

Chapter Warnings | Smut, swearing, mentions of anal fingering/rimming, cockwarming, oral (f recieving)

A/n | this is the 3rd book/series to my fics Their Doll and Our Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just after CACW in this book. In this series, Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Brows furrowed, y/n held the screwdriver between her teeth as she fiddled with the wires inside Bucky's arm.

"I'm sorry, Doll. I'll try and be more careful next time." Bucky sighed. He felt so guilty that y/n had to patch him up again, still getting used to the different strength of his new arm. Y/n shook her head, grabbing the screwdriver from her teeth before flipping the plate back down.

"You're just lucky my dad payed me attention long enough to teach me this shit." Y/n mumbled as she secured the screws back in place, sitting up and shoving the tool onto the table. "Try it out."

Y/n gestured to his arm and Bucky flexed his fingers, the black and gold metal moving as if it were his own flesh.

"I think I have a good idea how to test it out." Bucky smirked, reaching out to y/n and wrapping the metal arm around her waist. The girl squealed as he tugged her into his lap, the super soldier's face nuzzling into her neck.

"Bucky!" Y/n gasped, hands resting against his bare chest for support.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky murmured against the skin of her neck, teeth nipping teasingly as she squealed again and let her hands slide into his hair.

"I've gotta say, I'm disappointed that I wasn't invited for this 'testing out'" a playfully stern voice made y/n drop her head back to smile at Steve, who pushed away from the doorframe to press a kiss to the girl's pursed lips.

"Hiya Stevie." Bucky grinned. Steve chuckled and ruffled his boyfriend's long locks.

"Hiya Buck. How're you doing?" Steve asked, matching Bucky's grin. Y/n squealed then as bucky wiggled his fingers at her sides for a moment.

"I busted my arm tending to the goats. I felt bad going back to Shuri to have it fixed seeing as I only got it a few weeks ago." Bucky explained. Steve hummed and offered his boyfriend a pout.

"Poor baby." Steve whined before grinning again. "So, how're we gonna test it out?" Both Bucky and y/n had smirks on their lips at his question.

...

"I don't get it." Y/n huffed, hands clasped around her knees - which were tucked up to her chest - as she sat beside Nat and Sam.

"Don't get what?" Sam inquired, leaning around Nat to look at y/n. She sighed.

"What we're doing. I get the goats are cool but I just don't see the point." Y/n complained and Nat groaned.

"Will you shut up," she snapped, opening her eyes to look at the girl, "this is meant to be relaxing."

"Close your eyes, y/n. Think of something nice." Sam suggested. Y/n settled back into a comfy position and closed her eyes.

"Hey! Nothing dirty!" Nat scolded, hitting y/n playfully when she saw the girl's grin.

"What!? I was only thinking of Steve and Bucky." Y/n countered and Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, probably Steve and Bucky making out." He teased and Nat chuckled.

"Or fucking." She supplied and y/n shot both of her friends a glare.

"Well you two have fun looking at the goats, I'm going to find my hot boyfriends." She sighed, leaving Sam and Nat in fits of giggles.

...

Billows of intertwined flavours and smells enveloped y/n as she opened the door, a fresh cloud of steam slipping past her and outside.

The melodic notes of old music wafted about in the domestic air, only filling y/n with more joy as she crept through the house and into the kitchen.

"Mm, you're so pretty, Stevie." Bucky's low voice purred against his boyfriend's lips, whilst crowding him up against the counter with a strong hand on Steve's waist.

"Having fun?" Y/n mused, arms crossed and a teasing brow raised. Steve grinned at her over Bucky's shoulder and the winter soldier looked back to wink at his girl.

"Loads." Bucky chimed, moving away from a now pouting Steve to give y/n her own kiss.

"Whatever's cooking smells amazing." She hummed and Steve began to stir the ingredients around the pan again.

"Hopefully it'll taste amazing too." He quipped, turning the stove off and plating up their meals.

"Thank you, Stevie." Bucky hummed and y/n's mouth watered.

"And you Buck. I'm sure you helped a good amount." Steve breathed a chuckle and Bucky slapped his boyfriend on the arm playfully.

"We all know full well Barnes is a shit chef."

"Language, Captain ." Bucky gasped and all three of the burst into laughter.

They ate in a comfortable silence, trading snappy remarks and sweet-nothings every-now-and-then until their plates were clean and it was time to wash up.

Since the boys - well, steve - had taken the time and effort to cook, y/n insisted on doing the dishes.

She wandered over to the sink with a stack of dirty plates and dumped them on the counter as she filled the sink with towers of white bubbles and almost-way-too-hot water.

"Come join us, Stevie made popcorn." Bucky mumbled, brown hair tickling along y/n's shoulder as he nosed along her neck from behind.

"Buck, give me a minute and I'll be right over." She dismissed, placing a plate - dripping in suds - on the drying rack before picking up the next.

"But I wan' you now." Bucky murmured, pushing his hips into hers sharply enough to make y/n gasp and drop the plate in her hands into the sink.

"Bucky!" The plate made a small cracking sound as it hit the metal basin.

"Are you two alright in there?" Steve's call sounded from the living room and Bucky grunted against y/n's neck.

"Jus' havin' my dessert." Bucky called back and y/n squealed as he tugged her shorts down over her hips. "Keep washing doll."

Y/n nodded shakily as she felt his fingers trail up her thigh, Bucky's warm presence behind her gone as he dropped to his knees.

"So sweet doll, like fuckin' honey I swear." Bucky whispered as he placed a quick kiss to y/n's clit from behind. He repeated the action, kissing all over her cunt until the girl's legs were quivering and her knees were threatening to give out.

"Bucky I swear to - mmm - god if you don't get to it I will gut you in your sleep." The ex-assassin threatened and Bucky chuckled, clearly unfazed.

"Yes, ma'am."

Y/n squealed as Bucky went all in, tonguing along her folds before dipping into her core.

"Buck?" Steve grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as his body grew tired for the night.

"Mmm fuck! Soldier!" Y/n moaned, head dipping back as she deftly scrubbed the next plate clean.

Steve's eyes grew dark and his tongue swept over his bottom lip.

"Hi, honey. How's he doin'?" Steve whispered into y/n's ear, crowding up next to her. His hands roamed over her body, grabbing at her thigh to hitch it onto the counter.

Bucky hummed in approval at the increased access.

"Sounds like he's doing well. Why don't you come for him, y/n. Come for Bucky." Steve growled, grip growing tighter on her leg as he kept her spread open.

After that, all it took was a playful nip of her clit and y/n's legs were shaking, her mouth flopping open in a drawn-out, raspy moan of Bucky's name.

"Good girl." Steve nosed along her neck, dropping kisses here and there.

Bucky pulled away, licking his lips clean as he stood up and gave Steve a quick peck, which the younger man turned into a truly debauched kiss.

He licked his way into Bucky's mouth, biting at his upper lip until it was kiss-bitten and swollen red.

"Now, who's gonna sit on my dick, huh?" Steve asked and Bucky's eyes flared.

"Rock paper scissors?" Y/n was quick to suggest.

"You're on." His lovers competitive nature had Steve holding in an amused chuckle as he took a seat on the sofa again.

Y/n and Bucky stumbled into the room in a mess of kisses and manhandling before Bucky was settled firmly over Steve's lap, which the super soldier took as an indication that his boyfriend had won the game of Rock Paper Scissors.

Bucky was quick to drape himself forwards so he could connect their lips, Steve's eyes slipping shut as he hummed appreciatively when Bucky replaced Steve's hand with his.

"Can't wait to have you inside me." He moaned into Steve's mouth and Steve felt his cock twitch at the thought.

They were broken apart by y/n climbing back onto the sofa beside them, a bottle of lube in her hand.

Steve watched as y/n opened Bucky up real nice and real slow with her fingers and her tongue, until the man above her was writhing for more. She pulled away with a sickly-sweet grin and lube-slick fingers.

Steve grabbed the lube himself and slicked up his own cock, before Bucky kneed his way further into Steve lap until he was using the strength in his thighs to hover over Steve's cock.

Steve couldn't help his long, low groan as Bucky lowered himself down with a mewl, the feeling euphorically tight.

"Good boy, that's it." Steve mumbled, hands groping at Bucky's ass as he bottomed out.

...

Several orgasms later, Bucky was still seated over Steve's cock whilst y/n and Steve makes out - the three of them covered in a shiny sheen of sweat as their bodies shook from the aftershocks of pleasure.

The tv droned on in the background, mindless noise that was barely registered to the three of them.

"Can we sleep here, like this?" Bucky murmured into Steve's neck, which he was currently mouthing at. Steve pulled away from y/n.

"Buck, we gotta get cleaned up."

"In the morning." Bucky grumbled as y/n let out a yawn.

"I agree with Bucky, let's sleep and clean up when have more energy." Y/n agreed and Steve sighed.

"Just this once then." He relented and Bucky snorted.

"Okay, mom." Y/n chuckled and Steve fake-gasped. He smacked Bucky's ass, still grasped in his hands, and the man squealed.

They all manoeuvred themselves around, until Steve was laying down with Bucky on top of him - Steve's cock still buried inside him - whilst y/n was curled around the side of Steve's chest, fingers tracing the dips and curves of his muscles as they gazed at one-another.

"Marry me." Steve said and y/n's fingers abruptly stopped.

"What about Buck?" She asked and Steve chuckled.

"'Course I'm gonna ask him too, but I think we fucked him asleep with all that sex." Y/n snorted and Steve chortled at his own words.

When the fell silent y/n leant forwards more, breath hot on Steve's skin as she mumbled.

"Yes."

In his joy, Steve pulled her in for a long kiss, one that left them both breathless and laughing .

"What's goin' on?" Bucky slurred sleepily, lifting his head.

"We're getting married!" Y/n exclaimed and Bucky frowned.

"What about me?"

"Well of course with you as well, baby. You were just too busy sleeping to be part of the conversation." Bucky looked at Steve, looking for a confirmation and that this wasn't all a prank.

"We're gettin' married, Bucky. If you say yes, of course." Steve mumbled the last part shyly, as if Bucky would have said anything other than yes.

"Yes, fuck yes." Bucky breathed before surging forwards to kiss Steve, then y/n, before settling back down against Steve's chest.

"G'night, fiancés." Y/n mumbled, sleepy and drunk on happiness.

Taglist

Bucky Barnes Series/mini Series | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll @marvelhoesworld @macylawz @zaphdekota @theoldermanswhore @addriaenne @thegirlwiththeimpala @turkish276 @lilpopizzle @gooseyhouse @ohmy-fandoms @harrysthiccthighss @partiesandblurrypolaroids @prettysbliss @the-surviving-revolutionist @white-wolf1940 @dpaccione @tenaciousperfectionunknown @loveyou5everr @vallerydevora @multihoee @supraveng @cap-n-ce @sebbyxlover @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @veronicapaula @ravenmoore14 @frickin-bats @itstaylorcale @sunflowerbunny2 @spookyparadisesheep

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: Ask Questions, Throw Shield Later.

Intro: Steve and Katie have an unwelcome late night visitor…

Warnings: “Language!” Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

W/C: 1.9k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: The first of two (yes, two) special 29th May Birthday One shots. Happy Birthday Tony! Man, I missed writing for these guys in this timeline! This fits into SSB within “I Told You I Said Yes”.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Fuck, Steve...” Katie groaned, her head tilting backwards as Steve gave another deep thrust upwards, “right there... Jesus.”

“Good?” Steve panted as his hands grabbed her waist, finger tips digging into the flesh that covered her hipbones.

She nodded, grinding on him faster, his hands pulling her down making sure he hit as deep as he could.

Their soft, intimate sounds filled the room and, wanting to be as close to her as he could get, Steve sat up drawing a gasp from Katie as he did so. His hands moved to her back. One splayed half way up her spine, the other cupped the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her long, silky hair as he pulled her face to his. He kissed her, hard, his tongue dominating hers as he swallowed her moan, one that rumbled in her throat as if it came from the depths of her belly.

They’d already danced this tango once already that night. After a few beers with the team in anticipation of Tony’s birthday (minus Natasha as she was still on something Fury was running), they’d retired and gotten a little frisky some two hours prior. But then Steve had woken, his super sharp hearing alerting himself to some form of ransom noise deep in the floors below them and, well, he couldn’t get back to sleep. So he’d hugged Katie close.

Too close.

As ever he was unable to control his reactions to his girl and had ended up with a boner. Meaning she’d woken with him basically rutting up against her back, feigning innocence when she’d given him a grumble at the fact he’d dragged her from her slumber.

She hadn’t been grumbling for long.

“Stevie... I’m gonna...” Katie’s forehead pressed into his, her mouth open as her lips hovered over his, and he thrust upwards again, his nose brushing hers softly, like the touch of a butterfly.

“Let go. Doll,” he panted, actively fighting his own high, “cum for me.”

Her chest heaved, pert nipples brushing his bare skin and her movements stuttered. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, which cracked into a half grunt, half moan as she felt herself go, her body positively floating from her high.

By the time she came round, Steve had also finished, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he gathered his breath. Katie collapsed forward with a soft chuckle, her forehead pressing into his collar bone as he fell backwards, taking her with him.

They lay still for a moment, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as Steve pulled the bedding up around them. The smooth cotton brushing over her sensitive skin made Katie shudder a little. Steve smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, his large hands running up and down her spine.

“Am I forgiven for waking you up?” He asked and she shrugged, not even bothering to try and find the strength to sit up. “It’s three AM. I’ll think about it.”

Steve chuckled and she sat up slightly, leaning down to give him a slow kiss.

“Love you.” she pulled back a little, her eyes shining in the dim light, and Steve smiled.

“Love you too.”

Fifteen minutes later they were both settled down and on the verge of sleep once more when a loud crashing in the apartment made them both sit bolt upright.

“What the...” Steve was out of bed in a flash, wrenching the door to their room open.

Katie was seconds behind him, stopping only to grab Steve’s shirt from the chair at the vanity. As she shrugged it on, she ran into the hallway and heard a familiar metallic whoosh. There was the squealing of metal on metal and Katie flicked on the light just in time to see a flash of blue, red and white as Steve’s shield flew back to his hand. He looked over to Katie as she stepped towards him, her mouth falling.

“Is that...” she glanced down at what looked like a version of one of Tony’s suits. It lay motionless on the floor in two pieces, Steve’s shield having severed it at the waist. The failing electrics sparked as the various boards and cogs died, before it fell silent.

Steve nudged it with his foot. It didn’t move. He turned to Katie, a frown on his handsome face.

“Did he tell you he was making them autonomous?”

“That’s nothing new, JARVIS has always been able to control them remotely.” Katie shook her head as she crouched down, her hand gently touching the helmet. She tried to move the face plate but it didn’t open. Rapping her knuckles on the skull, she was met with a solid sound, not the usual hollow echo. “JARVIS?”

There was no reply.

“Why isn’t he answering?” Steve looked at her.

“Tony might have him down.” Katie answered. “He runs the updates at night some times. I do know one thing though.”

“What?” Steve asked as she stood up.

“That couldn’t have gotten in here without Tony letting it in one way or another.” She glanced at Steve, her pretty face full of annoyance. “Imma kill him, fucking idiot.”

She turned to leave and Steve gently caught her arm. “Honey...”

“Seriously? You want me to let this go?”

“Hell, no.” He shook his head, “I want you to wait for me to put some clothes on.”

Despite herself, Katie grinned as her eyes scanned Steve’s naked body, his shield still on his arm. He rolled his eyes and nodded to the suit on the floor, “I’m going to give him his property back, along with a piece of my mind.” **** Tony spun round, his brow arching as Steve and Katie walked into the lab. But whatever smart quip he had been about to come out with died as he spotted what was slung over the super soldier’s broad shoulders. With a loud slam, Steve threw the two parts of the robot down on the desk.

“What did you do to it?” Tony moaned.

“Threw my shield at it.” Steve folded his arms over his chest, the sleeves of the white ribbed Tee he had shrugged on straining over his thick biceps.

Tony was that distracted by his destroyed robot that he failed to notice Katie stomping towards him. She drew her right fist back and punched him hard on the shoulder.

“Ow, Kiddo!”

“You dick!” She yelled. “What the hell were you doing sending that into our apartment?”

“Wanted to test your reaction to it.” Tony shrugged. “See how it came across.”

“How it ca- Tony, it’s half past 3 in the morning!” She shrieked.

“Exactly.” Tony scratched his beard. “Total element of surprise. I thought you guys would give me a base of how people would react to them. Can’t have been that well if Spangles felt the need to cut it in half with his frisbee.”

“We had no idea what or who it was.” Steve felt his anger beginning to rise, “what was I supposed to do?”

“I’ve told you before, big guy. Ask questions, throw shield later.” Tony shrugged, “I can’t believe you killed Iron Kid.”

“Iron Kid?” Katie blinked.

“Yeah, the name’s a working progress.”

“Tony, what is it?” Steve pressed.

“It’s a prototype.” Tony informed them. “I had the idea last week. The Avengers exploded after New York. You should see the piles of fan mail that the guys downstairs sort each day.”

“Less bragging, more explaining.” Katie narrowed her eyes.

“The point is, we attract attention. So I had a thought about something that could help keep the public at bay,” Tony gestured to the pile of metal, “we can use them to issue instructions, help aid the emergency services. Keep civilians out of the way.”

Katie and Steve looked at one another, and Steve hated to admit it but the idea made sense.

Sorta.

“Clearly I need to rethink a little.” Tony mused. “I mean if they freaked you out then...” “It freaked us out because it was in. our. apartment!” Katie groaned. “In the middle of the night.”

“That’s the point, it was supposed to have the element of surprise, wake you up.”

“Well there’s your first fuck up!” She hissed. “We were already awake-“

“Why?” Tony frowned

“Because we just finished a great, sweaty sex session.” She shot back and Steve groaned, feeling the heat in his neck as he looked down, his bare toes flexing against the cool floor of the lab. “And you wanna be grateful we had finished because if we hadn’t I’d be really, really mad. You get me?”

“That’s.. disgusting.” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“And you’re an asshole.” Katie shot back.

With a shudder, Tony moved and picked up a screwdriver. He turned the helmet up aside down and opened a small hatch at the back. Stooping slightly, he prodded and poked at something inside.

“Huh, least the main board wasn’t damaged.” He straightened up and turned to face them both. “So, other than scaring the shit out of you what was it like? Voice interface okay? Too much me or not enough me or-“

“There was no voice interface.” Steve replied.

“What?” Tony frowned, “JARVIS was supposed to be controlling it. It should have told you why it was there and-“

“Well he didn’t.” Steve rolled his eyes, his already stretched patience wearing dangerously thin.

“He didn’t...huh?” Tony frowned and Katie moved past him to a computer.

“Oh for the... he’s on mute you dumbass!” She tapped a few buttons and JARVIS’ voice rang out.

“Thank you Miss Stark.”

“Shit.” Tony gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, buddy. Forgot I turned you off.”

“Mr Stark, may I suggest you call it a night, Sir? It is rather late and you’ve been awake for almost twenty-one hours. Miss Potts instructed me to ensure you-“ “And that is precisely why I did.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie let out a growl of annoyance

“I’m done. Come on, Steve.”

She stalked towards the door and Tony looked up. “You not gonna wish me happy birthday?”

In response she raised the middle fingers on both her hands, flipping him off over her shoulders as she stomped out of the door.

Steve watched her go before she turned to Tony. “You know, I think you’re onto something. Keeping civilians away would make things a lot easier.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Tony nodded, eagerly. “We’d need a fleet of them, an Iron Fleet, no that’s... like i said, the names a work in progress.”

“We can discuss this tomorrow. Give it some proper though.” Steve took a deep breath. “Just don’t send any more into the apartment, please?”

Tony saluted him and Steve rolled his eyes. He turned to go before he stopped, and looked back at his friend.

“Happy birthday, pal.”

Tony snorted. “Cheers, Spangles.”

Tony watched Steve walk out of the lab, before he glanced back at the destroyed robot.

“Mr Stark... Miss Potts is awake...”

“Ahh shit.” Tony groaned. “How much trouble am I in?”

“I don’t think a Roman Legion would protect you.” JARVIS replied and Tony stilled, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Iron Legion.” He tossed the screwdriver up in the air and caught it, chuckling. “JARVIS, you are a genius.”

“Why thank you, sir. And now I really must insist you go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m going. Lock everything down will you? Oh, and order us all breakfast from the diner on the corner of fifth.”

“Of course. The usual?”

“Yeah. Have it delivered about 10:30. Should be enough to calm Kiddo down.”

“Very wise Sir. I’ll ensure there’s extra bacon, just in case.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t love extra bacon?”

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Triple Threat, Chapter 7

TITLE: Triple Threat CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 7 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki kidnaps Darcy Lewis, in hopes of getting the tesseract in return for her. Imagine his surprise when he grows rather fond of the mortal, finding that she understands him better than anyone else ever has. RATING: M

Tony sent one of his drone suits up into space to check out the location of the reality stone.

The entire team was confused as to where it was, there was no planet there. If Jane truly had it, she wasn’t exactly going to be just flying around space. So they were starting to wonder if she even had it at all.

But when the drone got there, Tony called the team through to the lab to check out the footage he received from it.

Exactly where the map of the necklace said the stone should be, was a humungous spaceship.

Loki and Loki both knew exactly who’s ship that was. ‘Thanos.’ They both said at the same time, looking at one another worriedly.

‘Thanos? So, he has the stone from the wrong reality?’ Darcy asked.

‘Or he has Jane.’ Loki hummed.

‘What?’ Thor stepped forward, worried and angry. Of course he still cared about Jane and still had feelings towards her, the thought she was in the hands of Thanos was terrifying.

‘We don’t know for sure… But, possibly.’ Loki said as he ran a hand down his face. ‘We need to try and lure him down here, I need to get that stone back before he finds anymore.’

‘Is that wise? We can’t have Thanos on Earth, he’s already tried to destroy it once.’ Steve said as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘His goal isn’t to wipe out the entire human race. He wants to wipe out half of the entire Universe. To take out you lot too, but he will no doubt send his goons first. Like he sent Loki here at first with the Chitauri. If he has allies he can rely on, or allies he has tortured to do some dirty work for him, he will try that first. It was Loki who wanted to rule Earth, not Thanos. That’s not his endgame.’ Loki explained calmly.

The team looked at their Loki. He shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. ‘He’s right. I don’t know what Thanos had planned for afterwards, but he was going to let me have Earth.’

‘So if we lure him here, then what?’ Clint asked.

‘I doubt he will come here himself. He will send someone… If he has Jane, I suspect he will send her. She will be the enemy to try and take down Earth’s mightiest heroes.’ Loki said.

‘How can you be sure?’ Natasha asked.

‘I’ve been through similar already. I know what Thanos is aiming for. Granted, we are in different realities and sometimes they can be incredibly different. But the base line is usually similar. With different realities breaking off just a fraction from the real timeline, the smallest of change can cause the biggest of differences down the line.’

‘Like the one in sixty rule?’ Darcy asked.

‘Exactly.’ Loki nodded.

‘What’s that?’ Thor frowned.

So Darcy explained. ‘When flying a plane, for every one degree off course it will completely miss the destination point by a mile for every sixty miles travelled. So the further it goes on that course, the further away from its destination it goes, too. So while realities might all start the same, if something changes in one reality very slightly, it will start to veer off course completely. Like a chain reaction. Getting further and further apart from the original reality… Which I guess is why there are so many.’ Darcy shrugged.

‘Got it in one.’ Loki hummed.

��I don’t really get it myself, but it kind of makes sense at the same time.’ Darcy said.

‘I can see why you got a Doctorate.’ Loki smirked before turning on his heels and heading out of the lab.

‘Wait, what?’ Darcy spun around to face him.

‘In my reality, I believe that after events with the Dark Elves, you went back to school and graduated with a doctorate in Astrophysics. And I’m beginning to understand how that happened now.’ He grinned and continued on out of the lab.

Darcy looked around the team smugly and she elbowed Loki. ‘You can all just call me Doctor Lewis from now on.’

Loki scoffed and ruffled her hair. ‘Wrong reality, love.’

‘Hey!’ She glared up at him and tried to smooth her hair back down.

While Tony sent another drone up to try and get Thanos’ attention, to try drawing him down to Earth so they could attack on their land, Loki and Darcy headed to the living room.

‘Do you not think I could get a Doctorate?’ Darcy asked Loki.

Loki frowned and put his arm around her. ‘Of course I do, darling. I was only teasing. You know I believe you can do whatever you put your mind to.’

‘Thanks, Loks.’ She smiled up at him.

‘Hey, if you can deal with having two Loki’s around, you can do anything.’ Natasha said in jest as she passed by them both to head to the kitchen, making Darcy laugh and Loki frown.

Tony told the team an hour later that he had sent another drone up, but before he’d been able to lure the ship down to Earth, it was blasted to smithereens in space.

‘I guess it will have gotten his attention though.’ Clint said as he shuffled playing cards, he was having a game with Bruce.

‘Now we just need to wait and be ready for when he gets here.’ Tony huffed.

To pass time, the team all had a few drinks in the evening with some food on the go. Not a party, but not a normal evening either, really. Though they all made sure to just stick to a couple of drinks, as they had no idea when, or if, Thanos was going to attack.

Loki noticed that Loki had disappeared, so he took that opportunity to change his clothes to the same that Loki was wearing tonight. Leather trousers and a dark green shirt. He then went over to Darcy while she was putting some nibbles on a plate.

‘Get some for me too, love.’ He whispered in her ear as he slipped his arm around her waist.

‘Get your own, Loki.’ She said as she stabbed the back of his hand that was around her waist with a cocktail stick.

‘Ow.’ He whined and pouted as he moved away from her. ‘How did you know?’

‘I told you before, I can tell the subtle differences now.’ She said as she continued piling more food onto her plate. ‘One being you smell different.’

‘A word.’ The real Loki growled as he had seen what happened, but he was impressed that Darcy DID really know it wasn’t him and had managed to get him to back off. But he grabbed Loki by the collar and dragged him out of the room.

‘Oh dear. I don’t know whether to feel sorry for Loki or not… Or which one to feel sorry for, for that matter.’ Clint said.

‘They’re both as bad as one another really.’ Darcy groaned.

Loki shoved Loki against the wall and snarled at him, a hand around his neck.

‘I don’t care that you’re me. Or that we are one and the same. Darcy is MINE and you need to back off from her!’

Loki just laughed. ‘Oh really? But I thought you two weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. So that means she’s fair game to be courted, since you two aren’t an official item.’ He said slyly.

Loki pulled him forward and then slammed him back again. ‘I mean it, Darcy is off limits. She is mine and I am hers. NO ONE, is going to come between us.’

Loki put his hands up in defence and shrugged slightly. ‘Alright, alright. If you say so. But it seems to me you are afraid of commitment. Afraid of rejection and heartbreak. Of losing the one who loves and understands you the most.’

Loki narrowed his eyes at him and snarled angrily as he let him go and turned away.

‘Remember, I am you. You are me. We had the same start in life, I know the feeling of rejection and betrayal. But Darcy doesn’t seem like the type that will hurt you. I’d keep a tight hold of her, and if I were you’ he chuckled at the pun. ‘I’d be making it clear to everyone that she is taken.’

‘We are happy as we are.’ Loki said firmly.

‘Are you really, though? You’re paranoid, jealous. I know that you would be much more content, settled and balanced, if she had a ring of yours on her finger.’

With that, Loki headed back to join the others.

Loki punched the wall in anger, his fist going right through it with ease.

He wasn’t sure whether he was angry at himself or the other Loki. Because he was right. While Loki loved what they had together, he didn’t want to ruin it… But at the same time, he hated the thought of not being a proper couple. Even if dating and romance wasn’t exactly their style… Could he still ask her to marry him?

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #Triple threat #chapter 7 #fanficshiddles

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

the three of us (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: the three of us Rating: PG-13 Length: Warnings: discussions of pregnancy planning, angst, heartache Notes: this chapter made my heart hurt. Set in 1996. You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Summary: Javier and Reader have not had the success they hoped for.

Maybe Josie had been a fluke.

Your doctor had given you a full bill of health — both times you visited the doctor. There was no reason for why nothing had taken hold. Five months. Four negative tests. Four periods. Even Javier had visited the doctor, just to make sure his swimmers were in working order. They were. Everything was right and yet…

You swallowed thickly as you pushed the bathroom door open, eyes lowered to the floor as you shook your head. Another unsuccessful month had slipped by.

“C’mere.” Javier murmured, holding his hand out and gesturing for you to join him at the foot of the bed. “It’ll happen.” He reassured you.

“Yeah.” You almost wished you hadn’t decided you were ready to try. To actually plan on having another kid.

Javier curled his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side. “It’s okay baby.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I just thought that this time…” You shifted, laying back on the bed and bringing him down with you. You stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed. “I was two days late and I was certain.”

“I know.” He slid his arm out from under you, rolling onto his side. You could feel his eyes on your face, “Hey.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes. “Hmm?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s neither of our faults.” You said a little quickly. You were both healthy, but you were the one that wasn’t pregnant. You had been so certain this time around. For a fleeting few days you had felt different. Maybe you had been, maybe it ended before it even began.

“We’ll just keep trying.” Javier draped his arm over your middle, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “If you want to.”

“I do.” You sighed heavily. “I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be.” Your eyes drifted back up to the ceiling. Josie had been easy — one night was all it took to give life to a beautiful baby girl. Sure, it had been sheer hell, but she had been easy.

This time, you were actually trying and nothing was working.

“I’ll go back over the calendars the doctor gave us. Maybe we’re off by a day.” You scrubbed your hands over your face, before you looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you haven’t got a damn thing to apologize for.” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of your cheekbone. “And as much as it pains me to leave you right now…”

“Get to work, Professor.” You teased, trying to put on the emotions you would rather be feeling. You were depressed. But you didn’t want to ruin his first day back in the job force.

“I am just a teacher.” Javier countered, “And it’s just orientation.”

You curled your fingers around his tie, pulling him in closer so you could kiss him. “But Professor sounds sexy.”

Javier bumped his nose against yours. “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you going in today?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Probably. It would be a nice distraction.” You forced yourself to smile. You needed the distraction, otherwise you’d spend the day in sweatpants with a bottle of wine trying to forget your inadequacies.

“I’ll pick up dinner on the way home so you won’t have to worry.” Javier told you as he pulled back, straightening his tie. “Pizza?”

“Sounds nice.” You nodded, peeling yourself off the bed. “Good luck today, Javi.”

“Thanks baby.” He murmured and you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the bed room to get ready for work. You knew he was hurting too — maybe not the same way as you were. But he wanted this baby as badly as you did. Each month that slipped by killed you. At one point in your life you had prayed for a negative test, but now it was all you saw.

——

Your 1 PM meeting took you by surprise. Not the meeting itself; but the person leaving the meeting ahead of yours.

“Lance Collier.” You remarked, stopping dead in your tracks. “What are you doing here.”

He held his hand out to shake yours, “Working with the local law enforcement on a case. How the hell have you been?”

“I actually have a meeting.” You glanced at your wristwatch. “It’ll be about forty five minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Great.” Lance nodded. “Hope they don’t bore you to death.”

“Chances are slim.” You quipped, before you headed into the conference room. He certainly was a welcome distraction from the thoughts weighing on your mind. And one of the last people you expected to see from your time in Colombia. Second maybe only to Chris.

——

It was surreal to have Lance Collier standing in your little office with an obscured view of Dodge Island. The last time you had seen him was the night you broke up with him and promised to call him in a week or two. You hadn’t.

“Niece?” Lance questioned, nodding to a picture of Josie you had framed on your desk.

“Daughter.”

His brows shot upwards, “Wow. When did that happen?” You couldn’t exactly blame him for being surprised. He’d actually mentioned having kids with you when you dated and you had been pretty against the idea. You had a whole career you were building.

“She was born in ‘93.”

“And who’s the lucky father?”

You arched a brow, “Would you believe me if I told you I’m with Javier.” You turned one of the pictures on your desk towards him — a family shot Connie had taken for you in their backyard at Easter. Josie was clutching a stuffed rabbit, nestled in between you and Javier.

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Peña? What the hell did I miss after I left Colombia? I figured you must’ve moved on — you never called.”

You grimaced. “It didn’t feel fair to string you along, Lance. It’s not like I moved on to Javi right after we broke up. Far from it, actually. I just wasn’t—“

“There’s no hard feelings.” Lance cut you off. “I’m getting married next month.”

“Oh, wow! Congratulations.” You smiled at him. ”So what has the CIA poking around here?”

“Clearing up soon loose ends from Medellín. We received intel that La Oficina de Envigado was laundering money out of Miami. Due diligence, really.” He lowered his voice, pointing at Josie’s pictures. “Is she why you’re persona non grata with DEA? I was down at the embassy a year ago and—“ He whistled as he shook his head. “They’re not fond of you.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Javi and I lied about our relationship for a year. I was already on thin ice for being pregnant and…” You made a face. “Straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Jeeze, I’m sorry.” He gestured around the office. “But check this place out.”

You laughed. “Yeah, who knew Miami had the budget to give consultants offices with windows?”

Lance shook his head, staring at the family picture on your desk. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but… I just can’t picture Peña as a father.”

“He’s amazing.” You told him, your eyes drawn to the picture. “Josie is a complete daddy’s girl.” You glanced back at Lance then, “What do you mean you’re not surprised?”

He gave you a look. “Do you remember the first time you brought me along to drinks with him and Steve?” You nodded. “I realized pretty quickly that night that he was my competition.”

“Really?” Your brows furrowed together. “I just remember him being a dick that night.” Then again, he always got pissy whenever Lance turned up with you.

He was going to lose his shit knowing that Lance was in town.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Lance told you with a genuine smile. “That’s all I wanted for you.”

“Thank you.” You sank back in your seat, “I mean, look at us. You’re getting married next month and I’ve got a family.”

“With Javier Peña no less.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Right? I’m still waiting for the pigs to fly.”

“Any wedding bells in your future?”

“Not our thing.” You shook your head, “But we’re good. He’s started teaching a criminal justice course at the university. I’ve got this.” You gestured to your office. “Life is good. Miami was the right move for us.”

Lance pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. “You deserve it.” He glanced towards your office door, “I should probably get going. I’ve got a deposition to sit in on later.”

“It was good to see you Lance.” You offered with a warm smile, watching him leave. Once upon a time you probably would’ve settled for him. But there was nothing about Lance that made your heart skip a beat — even back then. That would’ve been an easy path. Everything with Javier had been difficult. It still was difficult.

But all that difficulty made the quiet moments worth it. The uphill battle was justified every time Josie roped Javier into wearing a princess crown and attending tea at her make believe restaurant.

You couldn’t imagine a life where you didn’t have both of them. And maybe it was okay that you weren’t having any luck. Maybe it was meant to be just the three of you.

———

“I don’t know why we bother trying to expand her dietary options,” You remarked as you picked a piece of cut up pizza off her abandoned plate as you took it to the trash to throw away. “She’s always going to just want chicken nuggets.”

“In futile hope that she’ll kick her chicken addiction.” Javier remarked from the living room, where he was fastforwarding through the trailers on the VHS he’d rented. Four Weddings and a Funeral seemed like the right kind of movie to unwind to.

You grabbed two beers out of the fridge, gripping them in one hand as you snatched up the pizza box off the counter and headed into the living room to join him. “I wish it were that easy. I think she’s hooked, Javi. Our baby’s a chicken addict.”

Javier looked back at you over his shoulder, a grin spreading over his lips. “Guess there’s worse things she could be hooked on.” He settled down onto the sofa, loosening his tie. “I’ve got a full class. I guess everyone wants to meet the guy who helped bring down Pablo Escobar.” He swept his fingers through his hair, before taking a beer from you.

“They’re going to love you.” You said as you took a swig of beer before sitting it down on the coffee table. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”

“Who?” His brows drew together.

“Lance.”

Javier huffed, “Really?”

You nodded, leaning back on the sofa. “He’s still chasing down money launders from Escobar’s predecessors.” You explained. “Still a CIA suit.”

Javier gave you a wary look, before he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza. “That’s good.” He said before taking a bite.

You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip, heart pounding a little quicker as you stared at him. “Are you going to be an asshole about this?”

“No.”

“Our entire conversation basically revolved around you.” You told him, lips drawn into a faint smile. “It was a nice distraction from everything else.”

Javier grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “I’m not going to be an asshole about this, but I just never liked the guy.”

“I know.” You reached out and stroked his cheek, before sliding your fingers into his hair. “He wasn’t surprised that I was with you.”

His jaw rocked tensely before he relaxed under your touch. “What? Did he tell you about the time I pulled him aside and told him he better take care of you?” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth.

You shook your head and tilted your face to look up at him. “When did you—“

“You had just started seeing him.”

“Well, that explains everything.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You could easily picture Javier pulling that shit. He had been in fine form that evening from the second that Lance sat down at the table. It was a miracle it hadn’t run the poor man off then and there. You had a sneaking suspicion that he had said a lot more than just ‘take care of her’. Everything had been so new back then — Colombia, Javier and Steve, your outlook on the future. Maybe things didn’t turn out how you had planned, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes, pulling you in close to his side. “Is he going to be around for awhile?” He questioned as he picked up the remote with his free hand, loosely holding onto it.

“I didn’t ask, but probably not.” You reached out and took the remote out of his hand, sitting it aside. “We should talk about this morning.

He exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’d planned for us to talk about everything but that.”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you interlaced your fingers with his. “I know.” You swallowed thickly. “It’s not bad… it’s just—” You squeezed his hand tightly. “I think we should try for another month and then I think it’s time to accept that it’s just the three of us.”

Javier lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “The three of us are perfect, baby.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, sinking into his side feeling defeated. You wished you could make it happen. That tomorrow you’d magically wake up pregnant. The thought of both of you being able to enjoy this from the start seemed like a vain wish now. “Are you excited to start teaching?”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, “I met a couple of the students this afternoon and they seem keen. We’ll see.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “They even gave me an office with a window.”

“We both ended up with windows,” You mused.

Javier chuckled. “I wanna bring you and Josie by later this week so you can see it.”

“That reminds me.” You squeezed his hand before you got up off the sofa. You headed down the hallway to the bedroom to get the gift you’d wrapped and hidden on your side of the closet. You returned, holding it out to him. “I meant to give this to you this morning, but…”

Javier took the parcel from you, unwrapping it slowly. “Baby, you shouldn’t have.”

You had taken the negatives of the photos from Colombia and had duplicates made to be framed. Four photos that captured so many memories from that era of your lives. Josie resting on Javier’s chest, both of them fast asleep a few days after you had brought her home; you and Javier kissing, a slightly blurry photo you’d relied on the timer for; Josie’s first bath; and a photo of the three of you when Josie was still so tiny.

“I thought you might like taking us to work with you.” You smiled at him as you settled down onto the sofa beside him.

“Maybe we should stop now.” Javier suggested as he looked up at you. “I hate how much this is stressing you out, baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Maybe we can just try to see if it’ll happen naturally.” You still weren’t ready to call it quits. Not entirely.

He nodded his head, staring down at the frame. “We’re good as three, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You leaned into his side. Part of you regretted that you had started this whole endeavor. You had thought it would be easy, free of heartache. But you had been wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was the planning and the stress that was causing it to fail.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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caps-lockdown · 5 years

Text

Sweater Weather Part Two

Here’s part two of this fun series. Full Steamy! Steve ahead!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x PottsRelativeFem!Reader

Ratings/Warnings: Hard R

For everything from language, crude jokes, ADULT situations/impure thoughts, booze (because it’s pretty much a staple in my fics at this point.), arguments, and an extremely overprotective Tony Stark. Very little angst, as I try to keep most of my fics light humored. But of course there are some insecurities/unsure feelings, as well as sad feels from everything with endgame/ the decimation. Also dead parents.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Slow(ish) burn. Lots of pining

Words: 3,422

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

Part two

“Toss me the salt will ya Short stack?” You lazily passed the salt to Tony who sat at your right of the dinner table, everyone digging into the massive roast chicken you and Pepper had made.

You had to admit the two of you were unstoppable in the kitchen. You danced around each other with ease, almost in a creepy silence save for the music you had picked out. You were positive it would have been awkward, getting back into small habits with your two closest family members but it had been like a warm hug instead. It was like you had never left. Conversations flowed easily and not just with Pepper and Tony, but the rest of the team as well. You found your sides hurting after laughing yourself silly due to Bucky and Sam’s married couple-esque bickering, not to mention Tony’s constant glares at Steve whenever he so much looked at you. You didn’t realize until you were halfway through your meal just how much you had missed everyone.

“You two should cook more often together, this food is incredible.” You smiled warmly at Thor’s compliment, Nat reaching to spoon another large portion of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

“I agree, you dames do pretty amazing work in the kitchen.” Bucky nodded at you, your heart swelling in pride.

“It’s all Pepper guys. I just follow instructions and hope she doesn’t stab me if I fuck up.” You nodded to your cousin, who chuckled in between bites.

“I’m just glad you’re back home where you belong Y/N. This table just wasn’t the same without you these last few years.” Tears threatened to prickle your eyes as she raised her wine glass up, the rest of the team following suit. “To Y/N!”

“To Y/N!” Everyone shouted, a large smile breaking out over your face as you sniffled away the tears of happiness away.

Dinner plates were soon cleared after that, the Avengers assembling in the kitchen for dish duty.

“I can help!” You tried moving past the walls that were Steve and Bucky, only to have them shake their heads at you.

“Not how this works Doll.” The captain smirked, his best friend giving you a light shove backwards.

“Yea Y/N. You cooked, we clean, no exceptions. Now go run along and get comfy, we’ll be in there to watch movies soon.” Bucky playfully wagged his finger, “You’re not gonna get past us, so don’t try it.” You threw your hands up in mock surrender, turning on your heel and slowly walking away.

You paused for a beat of time before running back at the two men full force, personally driven to get past them. Using your momentum you easily flung yourself to slide gracefully over the island countertop on their left, landing snugly between an impressed Tony and Natasha. You took the plate Stark had meant to hand his teammate with a smirk, grabbing the towel off of Nat’s shoulder and wiping it off before grabbing the other plates to take to the cabinet they belonged to. Sam couldn’t stop laughing as he offered you a high five for your efforts, the sound of your joined hands echoing throughout the kitchen.

“I thought you two were supposed to be super soldiers. Not super slow-pokes.” You jabbed, catching the dirty napkins Bruce tossed you with ease. Steve tried to hide his smile behind a very fake glare while Bucky clicked his teeth in your direction. “Dishes are done! Can we please go watch movies now?” You placed your hands on your hips as you stood again in front of the two large men. “Should I give you two time to move out of my way? Your old age and all I wouldn’t want you to break a hip.”

Steve deadpanned, not giving you a second to rethink your words as he effortlessly gripped your waist and promptly threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your hands shooting to grip his strong back as you let out a high pitched squeal, everyone laughing while the blonde mountain took off in a quick gait down the hall. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he casually dropped you on the couch, his arms coming to rest on either side of your head. You subconsciously licked your lips as he moved to bring his face close to yours, his voice a mere whisper on your skin as you tried in vain to calm your breathing.

“I might be old but the only time I’d ever be slow is if I was alone with you Doll.”

Your eyes widened at his piercing blue ones taking in his bold statement, the loud voices coming into the room causing Steve to straighten up his stance. He offered you a wink before placing his hands in his pockets, looking completely normal and as if he hadn’t just gave you a heart attack.

“We’ve decided Y/N should pick the movie.” Nat clapped excitedly at you, your pulse lowering to normal as you swallowed hard at what just happened. Where the hell was the nice sweet Steve Rogers you had remembered from years ago? Why was he acting like his life goal was to ruin you for all other men? Not that you would mind in the slightest, but where was this behavior coming from? You didn’t recall seeing any Asgardian mead anywhere during dinner.

“Right um…how about The Princess Bride?”

“That’s a great pick Y/N! Bucky still hasn’t seen it.” Sam agreed brightly, the winter soldier nodding before taking a seat on the love seat to your left. You shook your head smiling as Tony rushed to sit next to you on the couch, sticking his tongue out at Steve. If you had blinked you were sure you’d miss the flash of disappointment in his features before he stalked off to sit next to Bucky. You felt bad for exactly two seconds before Pepper handed you a bowl of kettle corn, Bruce moving to put in the movie.

“It’s a shame Clint couldn’t be here. How’s he been?” You asked, stuffing a handful of popcorn into your mouth and handing the bowl to Tony.

“Probably busy making baby number four with Laura I imagine.” You snorted at the man sitting next to you, shaking your head as the movie started, Pepper telling F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn out the lights. You got sucked into the film instantly.

“I want to see my face shining in it by morning.” “As you wish.”

“WHATEVER YOU SAY JEN-NAY!” You shouted at the screen in a terrible Forrest Gump impression that had Sam laughing his ass off on the ground.

“The only comfort she found was in her daily ride.”

“Man I’d kill for a woman who rides daily.” Sam’s remark later had you in tears, reaching over to high five the man as the rest of the group chuckled. Tony wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey Waldolf and Statler? You mind? Trying to watch the movie here.” You made a lip zipping motion to your cousin, bringing your eyes back to the movie and eating more popcorn to keep quiet.

“So, did you lip lock with Y/N yet?” Bucky whispered to Steve, internally chuckling at how he kept stealing glances at you in the dark. You were too engrossed in the movie to pay attention to anything else, and he was beyond grateful the lights were out, your features only lit by the T.V screen.

“No Buck. I’m trying but she’s so perfect I don’t want to come on too strong. I mean it’s been a long time and..”

“Woah woah hang on a second!” Sam shot his head over to look up at the two men from the floor with a shocked expression. “You’re trying to land Y/N? Like Tony Stark’s cousin slash adopted sister Y/N?! How long have you carried a torch for this woman?”

“Too damn long.” Bucky’s echoing of Steve’s words from earlier rang in his ears as he proceeded to fill Sam in of their earlier conversation and bring him up to speed.

~~Earlier while you were prepping dinner with Pepper~~

“Let’s go Stevie, you and I are going to have some words.” Bucky grabbed the confused Captain by the elbow, not giving him any room to escape as he all but dragged him into an empty hallway, away from everyone else currently waiting for food to be finished. “What’s the deal with you and Y/N? And don’t try to lie to me. You’ve been watching her like she’s the end all to your existence. Spill.”

“I didn’t expect to see her Buck. She’s the last person I would have ever pegged on coming back to New York after everything.” Steve leaned against the wall of the hallway, smiling as he remembered what the two of you used to be like. “We were close once, back before I left to find you, back before everything went to hell. One of my biggest regrets in life has been not telling her how I feel. How she makes me feel.” The man sighed, running a hand through his hair at the sound of your laughter coming from the kitchen.

“I’ve never wanted anyone so bad in my entire life. I always hoped that maybe she’d come back, and maybe I could make up for lost time somehow. She’s incredible! So gorgeous even when she isn’t trying to be, funny, and wicked smart. She sucks the air right out of my lungs every time she even looks at me. She makes me feel like I’m going to die from an asthma attack. What’s worse is I wouldn’t even mind as long as I got to call her mine. Even if only for a moment.”

“That bad huh? Why don’t you just ask her out? Or just push her up against the wall and make her forget her own name?” Bucky asked, Steve’s upset gaze turning to the dining area.

“Easy. You know her cousin.” He sighed defeated, his best friend giving him a tight lipped smile before bringing his fist up and socking him in the arm. Hard.

“Bullshit Steve Rogers. Y/N is single, you’re single! Screw Tony!”

“I’d rather screw Y/N Buck, have you not been listening?” The admission made the winter soldier’s eyes damn near fall out of his head.

“Damn Stevie” The brunette chuckled, watching how flustered his friend became when Y/N poked her head into the hallway.

“Soup’s on gentlemen! Don’t make me wait!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Doll. Smells great!” Steve called, looking at Bucky while the woman beamed and disappeared again from view. “You gotta help me man, She’s going to be here all weekend and I’m going to go crazy!”

“Then go crazy! You never know unless you try Rogers. She seems into you, so why not just go all in? How long have you carried a torch for her?”

“Too damn long.” Steve responded as they began their walk to the dining table.

Now

“So we’re gonna call this Mission Getting America’s ass a piece of Ass or Operation Raising America’s flagpole?” Sam asked out loud, Tony getting fed up with their talking and throwing a few kernels of popcorn at the men.

“Shh!!!!” Steve rolled his eyes as Stark shushed them loudly, his heart squeezing as he watched you smack your cousin’s arm, clearly not caring about their hushed tones.

“Man you had to pick Y/N? Dangerous waters man, respect. Count me in.”

“Yea Pal, we’ll help you avoid the overprotective ass so you can get closer to Y/N’s ass. No problem.” Steve smiled as his friend clapped him on the shoulder, only to get hit square in the back of the head with more popcorn. Turning his head to glare at Stark, he was surprised to see you holding the popcorn bowl, a playful scowl on your perfect face.

“Shhh!” You raised your finger to your lips, the men instantly shutting up so you could enjoy the rest of the film.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” Everyone laughed at Bucky’s statement, his confusion warranted by the sheer fact he hadn’t been paying attention the first hour and was consequentially lost. You jumped at the sudden sound of your cell phone interrupting the film, groans of frustration leaving everyone as you went to dig out the noisy device from your pocket.

“Shit. So sorry everyone!” Your face paled upon seeing you had four text messages from the same person calling you. Your best friend Kate. “I’ll be right back!” You looked apologetically to everyone while you scramble off the couch, catching the now empty bowl Tony had tossed you.

“With more popcorn Short Stack. First one up gets the snack refills.”

“Yea yea, keep your shirt on Snark.” You skipped out into the hall, pressing the green accept button and bringing the phone up to your ear. “HEY BOO THANG!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hey boo thang me Y/L/N. Take a wild guess where I am.”

“Um….Antarctica?” You tried, hearing your angry friend huff in annoyance as you re-entered the kitchen, trying to remember where Pepper had put the box of popcorn.

“Nice try smart ass. I’m in your apartment.” You stiffened, pulling the small box out of the cupboard and opening it.

“How’d you get in hoe?”

“You’ve kept the same hide-a-key gnome since college.”

“Right. What brings you by? I thought you were in Canada til Monday for a car meet?”

“It was a total drag. Cops showed up, handed almost everyone a VI, it’s no fun after that. I came back early, decided I’d surprise you with a welcome home pizza and some wine. I climbed SEVEN flights of stairs Y/N. SEVEN. You ignored my texts so I thought you fell asleep. BUT NO. So where the hell are you?!”

“Avengers compound. A/c is broken for the weekend so there’s a hundred percent chance of shirtless hot men.” You pulled your phone away at the sound of Kate’s loud girlish squealing.

“MY BAAAAAABE.” She screamed into the phone, you chuckling and placing a new bag into the microwave. Tony could learn to have some patience. “Steve is there isn’t he?! You gonna jump him?! PLEEEEEASE tell me you’re going to jump Steve Roger’s fine ass?!”

“I think he’s trying to jump mine Kate.” You quickly filled her in on the previous events from the day, her loud cheers and “My Girl”s spurring on your confidence. She was always your best hype woman, always in your corner and the best person at cheering you up. You guys had met in writing class during College, the two of you became thick as thieves by the semester’s end. She was the one that told you to get out after the Decimation, she could see how much you wanted to help. You let her take over writing for your article in the small paper you wrote for so you could jump on the first plane to the U.K, promising to give it back when you returned. You’d never tell anyone how happy she was when you told her you would not be coming back to the paper upon returning back to New York. She had thrived writing it, and you knew she didn’t want to give it up. You’d never stand in her way with something like that.

“SWEET JESUS THAT MAN! The thirst struggle is real as fuck huh Y/N?” Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts along with the loud beeping of the microwave. You tore the bag from the box and immediately dumped its contents into the bowl, throwing another bag in to heat up.

“I promise I’ll sneak ya some pics whenever I can. As an apology.”

“You dangerous bitch,” You laughed openly at that, watching the timer count down to avoid making any more noise. “I’ll let you go. Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. Love you, bye.”

“Bye babe!” Her singsong voice ended the phone call, you putting it back in your pocket before shoving the second bag into the bowl and returning to the living area. You hadn’t missed too much of the movie, settling in again next to Tony and him wasting no time at taking the popcorn off your hands.

“You’re welcome.”

“Mphmph Thanks.” Stark muffled out, not even looking at you.

The movie ended a little while later and you glanced up at the clock on the wall. You had exactly six hours before the compound would start changing temperatures. Stretching your arms up over your head you smiled lightly at the sight of Pepper and Tony cuddled up together and asleep on the couch. It was sweet to see them together, no world saving or stressful missions to plan. Just them being them. You almost felt jealous in a way, wondering if you’d ever find that kind of relationship.

“Penny for your thoughts Y/N?” You blinked at Bucky as you came back to reality, shaking your head and offering a smile as he offered a hand to help you off the couch.

“I’m fine Bucky. Just happy to be back. I’ve missed everyone so much.” You gushed, taking his hand and standing on your feet. The rest of you walked away from the living area, into the long hallway to exchange goodnights and well wishes of sleep before hell hit in the morning.

“Can I walk you to your room Doll?” You smiled warmly at Steve as he offered his arm, you taking it and starting down the hallway together.

“I don’t know can you Rogers? Or would you prefer to carry me again?” Pride ghosted your features as a blush creeped over the blonde’s cheeks.

“Sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have acted that way...” He started and you cut him off with a short laugh.

“Don’t be sorry Steve. I’m sure as hell not.” You shrugged, slowing your steps down as you neared the door to your room. “Which one’s yours?”

“Oh umh, well it’s this one.” He pointed to the door right next to yours and you let out another laugh.

“I see now, you were just walking me to my room because it was on the way.”

“Wrong. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. I haven’t gotten you to myself for longer than a moment all day.” Steve muttered, you looking up at him with calculating eyes as he stared back at you.

“Well now that you have me, what will you do with me?” You challenged, his gaze going dark before he wrapped you up into a giant hug. You giggled as he seemed to melt into the embrace, you bringing your hands around his neck to pull him closer, snuggling into his shoulder and breathing in his scent.

“I’ve missed you Y/N. God I’ve missed this.” A blissful sigh escaped your mouth as he only hugged you tighter against his chest. You could hear his racing heartbeat under your cheek as you stood there, gripping onto one another seemingly for dear life. You had missed him too, more than you currently cared to admit at the present. You reluctantly pulled away from the amazing man when you heard a small cough behind you, finding an amused looking Natasha.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just waiting to get to my room.” The two of you sheepishly moved out of the way for the red head, her small smile and knowing wink causing your face to flush. “Goodnight you two, don’t stay up too late.”

“We should probably...” He started

“Call it a night.” You finished, looking at him with a small smile. “Keep your door unlocked? Just in case I have nightmares and need someone to snuggle with?” You baited, it having a clear affect on Steve as he huskily chuckled, bringing your knuckles to his lips. Your body sparked as his soft lips grazed them, your vision a bit blurry as he stared at you with those perfect blue eyes.

“As you wish.”

You thought you’d die right then, watching him smirk at your cheeks reddening before turning into his own room, giving you a quick once over with his eyes and shutting the door. Oh buddy if he wanted to be a tease, you’d show him who was the reigning champion. You quickly went into your room and changed into pajama’s, placing Mister Stuffins on the pillow next to you before drifting off to sleep easily. You couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #avengers #marvel #captain america #fanfic #fanfiction #series

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memescomicswriting · 5 years

Text

In the Pursuit of Happiness Ch. 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Steve

Warnings/genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Singer!Avenger. Raised by Sheild since the age of ten, Y/N grew up without everyday examples. She only saw how to be an agent. Though as a grown woman she has surpassed that mindset, she still faces challenges from her upbringing- like how to handle feelings, unrequited love, and interpersonal challenges. Set after similar plot points in Civil War, Y/N must face returning home after leaving during an uncomfortable time in her life and facing the consequences

A/N: This is my first series in the Marvel fandom. I hope you enjoy it. I always welcome feedback. It is appreciated. This story does not follow the traditional Marvel timeline. I mess with it to make the story work, so roll with me.

Story Masterlist

---

It was the tenth official Stark party this year. It was in honor of Steve, and he requested any donations from the charity ball portions of the evening be donated to the Stark Veterans Project. The project was created to honor those who sacrificed their lives for their country by supporting their families- whether sending their kids to college, funding counseling, replacing income, or helping with funeral arrangments. It also worked to provide the best resources available for those coming home with casualties.

This party felt different, lighter, and cheerful. Steve was entertaining a group of Sam's veteran buddies while Sam poured them all drinks. Tony, with the assistance of Nat's intimidating skillset, kept scoring large donations for the cause. Thor and Clint were off somewhere playing darts to determine who had the best accuracy. Wanda, with Vision's attempt at helping, was trying to relax Peter. He was here as a 'Stark Intern.' He and Banner both appeared apprehensive at the large gathering of people.

That left Bucky, who had shrugged Steve off insisting he was fine, nursing an Asgardian lased whiskey in a lonely corner of the bar. He wanted to talk to people, honestly, he did, but he wouldn't know where to begin. Being a brainwashed Hydra assassin for the past seventy years left him short of topics to discuss and rusty social skills. He'd stay until the charity part was over, as an Avenger. Though it wasn't like many people recognized him, and those who did were apprehensive at best. He planned on moving to the couch by the exit to the living quarters soon.

Then a shockingly gorgeous woman emerged from the crowd like Venus from the sea. Eyes followed her, lingered, but no one followed as if they were frozen in shock. She sauntered up to the bar counter, a seat away from Bucky. This bar was less populated than the others. Probably because no noticeable Avengers hung off it.

"Can I have a gin and tonic please." Her voice was smoother than velvet and sweater than molten chocolate dripping off a strawberry. Bucky was commanded, without intention, to notice the woman within an arm's distance. She was drinking gin, an old fashioned drink Bucky rarely heard ordered before.

The bartender gulped, assuming it was due to the beautiful woman leaning over the bar. "Yes Ms. Y/L/N."

She was dressed in something so unique. It was a black jumpsuit with a large V for a top, cascading to a cinched waist in gleaming chiffon fabric. The pants of the outfit were well fitted, highlighting long legs and the curves of her hips. She stood out from all the others in the room. With hair perfectly curled and pinned into a loose bun; strands dripped from their place to create a beautifully disheveled look. Then there were those cherry red lips- so well defined they were sinful.

So yeah, Bucky had to notice her, and by his luck, she noticed him too. Maybe it was the intensity of his stare or the muffled choke of his rapid inhale, but she turned to him with eyes so bright they could have been stars. He died right there on the spot and he must have looked like a complete creep.

"Sorry if I bothered your peace and quiet." Her voice was light like a melody, not harsh, or apologetic, or disturbed, but friendly. "But I needed some of it too." Her lips upturned in the smallest of smiles, but it struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning.

The bartender placed her gin and tonic on a napkin and reluctantly moved to the guests on the other side of the bar. In what felt like an eternity, she took a sip of her drink and analyzed Bucky. There was no scrutiny in the way she glanced him over, but a light concentration like she was looking for something. He died again, her gaze and her presence were so much to take in. As if she sensed his animal instinct to bolt, she placed her hand on the bar ledge close to his. "Oh please don't go! I haven't had the chance to talk to you yet."

"Talk to me?" It was a quick utterance of disbelief. No one wanted to talk to him. Steve, Nat, and Sam would because they were his friends, the other Avengers would, but no stranger had yet to go out of their way to talk to him.

She chuckled long and slow like thick molasses. "Yes, you Bucky. Who wouldn't want to talk to you?"

It was rhetorical, but Bucky mentally answered it- everyone, everyone but you, it seems. "I-I...who are you?" It was gruff and possibly rude, but he was almost proud that the talked this much already.

"A friend of Steve and Tony's, and the whole team really." Her smile never faltered. "They mentioned you came tonight and I wanted to see for myself."

"Oh..." Bucky scolded himself for his anxiety and lack of manners. "Well, I'm not staying long." Again. he criticized his actions. He wasn't the ladies man from his past, but he wasn't the cold solder either. He was lost in a new identity.

"No!" It wasn't a shout, but there was a forceful need behind her voice. "You should stay till the end of the charity portion at least! I promise you it'll be worth it."

"Well, I don't know..." He trailed off.

Pleading took over her features. "Oh promise me you will? For me?"

She had to know the effect she had on him, the command and the enticing desire to try. His desire to resist the feeling to bolt, and to participate. "Okay, I will." He hesitantly agreed.

"Oh, that makes me so happy!" She spoke to him, but her head whipped to the direction of Tony's voice over the speaker. "I uh have to go, but I hope to see you again Bucky." Quickly, she grabbed her drink and shot Bucky another knee-buckling smile as she walked back into the crowd she appeared from.

Tony spoke over the speaker for a bit. He thanked all the guests for coming and for their donations. He spoke about the worthiness of the cause and how there were still more chances to give. A singer was about to come on, and there were five slots for a purchaser to fill with the song of their choosing. On top of that, the singer donated a few extra songs for free- ten in total. Bids went up, and they sold in the thousands. Many were songs Bucky didn't know, but the voice caught him.

Despite the chorus' Bucky didn't know and didn't like, that voice struck him for the second time that night. There was that girl, half raping, half-singing some song. Bucky stood from his stool caught by her voice. She went through the five purchased songs Bucky was not familiar with, then she switched to a setlist which she performed with ease. First, "I'll be Seeing You" by Billie Holiday- probably for Steve. A song about landslides, another beautifully slow and captivating song repeating Hallelujah, something about waterfalls, and lastly the song that drew Bucky through the crowd despite himself.

Her voice ripped through the crowd and into him. Her previous composure had been thrown to the wind for a defiant, screw you, attitude. "I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know" She called out. "Everything that shines ain't always going to be gold." Slews of cursed were in the song too, but Bucky found them refreshing in the way they were delivered. He was held captive by the divinely sultry yet earthy gravel of her voice.

"Tell me what you know about dream'n. You don't really know nothing." The crowd around was bouncing to the song, some singing along, others simply moving with it. Bucky pushed to the front and his eyes marveled up at the stage. "Tell me what you know about night terrors every night, waking up five a.m. cold sweats, waking up to the sky." He was struck. That was him, he did that and he pushed people away for not understanding. That was him and the most beautiful girl he had ever seen was singing his experience from a point of knowing. She knew what it was like and she knew him. He was infatuated.

The song came to a roaring end, the crowd screaming, but she wasn't out of breath. Bucky was. She looked down off the stage and saw him. She winked and there was no oxygen left to fill his lungs. "I'm Y/S/N and I hope you had a great time tonight. I certainly did. Remember, there are more opportunities to bid on, on your way out. Keep donating for those who have served!"

She exited the boxed off back of the stage, down a hallway to the Avenger's personal lounge; where the friends only after party was set to happen. Tony replaced her on stage thanking the guests for coming and rattling off the usual.

Bucky scanned the room, pushing through crowds. He needed Steve and he needed him now, but he already left. Those staying for the private afterparty used the end of the mini-concert to slip unnoticed down to the common area. Bucky did one more look over before deciding to make an exit himself.

***

The easiest ways to the common area were cut off due to the high traffic of exiting guests, so Bucky had to go up a floor and cut through some of the living quarters to reach his destination. He walked at almost a jogging pace down the opposite flight of stairs and the back section of the floor he needed to be on. It included the apartment he shared with Steve. However, he was caught in an abrupt halt when the very person he was running to find answers about swung out of the apartment across from his. The spider kid used it on occasion, but otherwise, it was empty.

She had changed and let her hair down. Now in a pair of black leggings and SHEILD pull over, she still looked like perfection. Bucky was shocked to see her, and she was the same. She hadn't expected him to be here. She thought he'd attach himself to Steve.

She recovered quicker than him. "You stayed as promised."

Her lips curved again and after recovering from their sting, Bucky gained enough control to talk. “Yah...” Bucky’s Brooklyn accent emerged through his foggy grip on words. “You shouldn’t be back here.”

Civilians, unless escorted or previously approved were not permitted back into the private sector of the compound. Here was a goddess of civilian women- like a muse or Aphrodite, outside of Bucky’s apartment.

A low chuckle escaped her lips. It drew Bucky in to box her into the door frame. “You don’t know. They didn’t tell you, did they?”

Bucky bit his bottom lip, making it flush with color. He didn’t realize he had boxed her in until he was starring down at her. It was a close distance that made his heart race with riddles of anxiety. The position was unnerving. “Who are you really? How do you do that?”

Her eyebrow quipped in an extended arch. Maybe it was in challenge or amusement. Despite Bucky’s height advantage, he suddenly felt small.

“And what exactly do I do? Because I see your skillset is more of the twenty questions sort.” She stepped forward and Bucky stepped back.

Bucky inhaled sharply to give a sheepish reply about how she needed to leave the private sector of the compound. Then he heard a familiar male voice call out. “There you go, kid. Everything back to the way it was.” Clint appeared around a door frame. “Oh, hey there Sarg. Did you need something?”

She spoke up before Bucky. “It seems four months away and everyone forgets the I was ever an avenger” Clint wasn’t picking up what she was hinting at until she tilted her head in Bucky’s direction.

“Uh... oh. Right, you’ve been away for the recent changes.” Clint slowly turned from her to Bucky with a serious look of contemplation. “I guess Cap is losing his memory in his old age.” He shrugged and the seriousness released from his shoulders. Jovially, he clapped Bucky’s back. “Come on old-timer. Help me escort the lady to Steve for some answers.”

The avenger’s personal lounge was significantly more relaxed than the party. There was still some partygoers, but all personal friends. Tony played makeshift bartender; mixing drinks for anyone near the bar. Others just walked behind the bar themselves. Music played over the speaker system in the background. Games like pool and air hockey still going strong.

Bucky easily spotted Steve. He was standing with Natasha by the couches. His voice echoed the room as he was barreling laughs.

Gaining some sense of clarity, Bucky leads the pack to Steve. “Hey, pal.” Steve greeted between laughs.

“Yeah, pal.” His voice was low and reserved as usual. “You um, supposedly forgot to let me in on something.”

Just then, she stepped out from behind Bucky. “Hello, Steve.” Her voice was as thick and rich as a fine whiskey.

Steve, flushed with alcohol sobered up in actions. “Y/N.” He breathed out in an enchanted tone. Natasha was scarce to be seen. Clint wanted to follow her.

“Right...” Clint peeked his eyes from Clint to Y/N. “Now that we’re all where we need to be, I’m gonna go find Nat. Let me know if you find anything else kid.”

Y/N nodded to Clint with a smile different than any she had shown before. “Seems you forgot to inform the newcomer of my arrival.” Her full attention was on Steve. Despite her almost lovingly soft expression, Steve reacted as if she was emitting the intensity of the sun's summer rays.

Bucky knew Steve. Hydra, brainwashing, and time couldn't replace his second-nature understanding of Steve. He knew Steve was in a star stricken gaze. Bucky almost smirked at the punk.

"Well, I..." Steve bashfully rubbed the nape of his neck. He had to look away from the dazzling Y/N to gain the ability to think straight. "I'm sorry. It slipped by."

Disappointment clouded her previously radiant being. "I understand it's been busy lately. I've been busy as well. Missions and all else."

Tension and unspoken thoughts lingered in the air between them. Anyone could see it, and everyone did. Bucky understood why Natasha and Clint disappeared. The awkwardness seeped into everyone around the pair. At least, Steve's disarray was penetrating. Y/N maintained an unwavering decorum.

"Buck," Steve spoke up, barely dragging himself through an ashamed fog. "This is Y/F/N. A good teammate, great agent, and an incredible friend. I can't find the right words to adequately sum how amazing she is, and I know you'll get along swell."

Y/N craked her lips, desperately wanting to say something she just couldn't get out. Steve motioned to Bucky with his eyes, and in a shock of remembrance, Y/N turned to meet Bucky's fresh gaze. Her radiant persona emerged, but not to the extent it was at earlier that evening. "And now you know who I am, really am." She dared to take Bucky's hand in hers. The nearest hand to her was the one she took, his metal hand. She did not flinch, drop it, or indicate any realization that it was more than just a hand. "I'm not just the civilian entertainment. I'm a teammate as well."

She was shaking Bucky's hand in the delicate grip of both hers. He wanted to know what that would feel like with his flesh hand. "I'm not sure I'll ever know all of who you are." It was a dry comment without much thought of recourse behind it.

Shock raptured into a beautifully honest smile. "Then I hope you enjoy mysteries." She kept that smile as she turned to Steve, despite his previous disappointing words. She removed her hands from Bucky's growing grip to grasp Steve's shoulder. "I hope you'll spare some time for us to chat."

It was a statement but said with the tone of a question. Steve took a hard gulp. "I- of course, I will. Anything for you."

Y/N's smile became warmer; if that was even possible. "Thank you." She glanced over the rest of the party. She spotted an awkward-looking Petter blushing at Tony's bosting of the boy. She chuckled lightly shaking her head. "I'll leave you boys to talk. I think I have a spider to rescue."

Y/N patted Steve's shoulder and dropped her hand. She turned back to Bucky once more. "It was a pleasure to meet you, James."

With a curt but breathless nod, Bucky managed to reply. "Nice to meet you too."

Bucky waited until Y/N disappeared in all the guests to address Steve. He became lighter with her exit. "What the hell was that?" He swatted at Steve.

"That," Steve sighed exasperated, but with love-struck longing. "Was Y/N"

And it dawned on Bucky. That was Steve’s girl.

---

A/N: Chapter one done! Let me know what you think! Reblog if you liked it! How awkward was that seen in the hallway? Comment below if you think Y/N should have introduced herself right away.

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 6 years

Text

Bring it on, Star-Spangled Douchebag

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Steve is in danger, but things don’t go smooth when Y/N tries to keep him safe-- especially since keeping him safe means being caught between the two men she loves most.

A SPN/Marvel crossover. Dean Winchester x reader, Steve Rogers x reader, Sam Winchester, Bucky Barnes

WC: 1,172

Warnings: a little angsty. Love triangle and all the feels that come with it. Maybe a little heavy on the sarcasm and name calling haha.

A/N: @waywardnerd67 keeps spamming me with art of Dean as Cap (y’all know how much I LOVE both men) and this kind of just happened. I had intended to make this a one shot, but once I got into it I didn’t know how to wrap it up nicely.

It’s a little weird and dramatic, but hopefully you enjoy it enough to stay tuned! The timeline will be a little wacky just because of how the story came to me. Let me know what you think :)

[minor edits made 8/4/2020]

“Steve, please, you’re in danger. I know you don’t know me that well, but please, just...hear me out, okay?”

“Don’t know you that well? Y/N, I just found out that everything you’ve ever told us has been a lie. What are you anyway, some sort of double agent? Y’know-- it doesn’t even matter. Whatever’s coming, we’ll handle it. And you know damn well you can’t expect me to just drop the shield and sit this out because some threat is coming after me. I can handle myself.”

You knew when he said “we” that he only meant him and Bucky, and it stung a little more than it should coming from someone you’d just met a few weeks ago. You turned with pleading eyes toward Dean, begging him to back you up. To help you get through to Steve. You knew it was asking a lot of him considering the circumstances, but you couldn’t let Steve go up against something he didn’t understand.

“Okay look, Mr. Rogers. You mind if I call you that, neighbor?” Dean smirked at Steve, clearly mocking him as he took a bold step forward. “Let’s sit you down, get you a nice cardigan, and fill you in on what’s going on before your afternoon nap--”

“Dean…” Sam warned.

“Steve, why are we even wasting time talking to these punks?” Bucky asked. “If we know who this guy is, let’s just--”

“That’s the point, genius-- you don’t know who this guy is!” Dean waved his hands in exasperation, raising his voice at Bucky before whirling around to glare at Steve again. “We know the last guy he was, but you guys don’t know what you’re dealing with. If this guy gets near you, he’ll shatter your squeaky clean Captain America name faster than you can snap your fingers.”

Steve crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave Dean a hard look. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one to stand by and let things just happen. Now I appreciate your concern, but I think you better get out of here before I change my mind and take all of you in for impersonating federal agents.”

“Oh, pal, I’d love to see you try.” Dean’s smile was dangerous and sarcastic as he took another step forward to close the gap. Steve clenched his jaw but held his ground.

“Look, I don’t know who the three of you think you are or what you’re actually doing here, but I suggest you--”

“Oh, bite me, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve dropped his hands to his sides and clenched his fists. “Y’know, you’re really starting to get on my nerves. How ‘bout you grab your little knife-- let’s go a few rounds.”

Dean scoffed. “Bring it on, Star-Spangled Douchebag.”

“Excuse me?”

“Guys, stop!” You forced yourself between the two men and pushed them apart. Sam rested a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder, warning him to cool off, while Bucky shifted to take a protective stance beside Steve. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face the soldier and gently placed your hand on his chest.

“Steve, please just hear us out. All I’m asking is for you to keep an open mind and give us a chance to come up with some sort of plan. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me...but I really do care about you. I never intended for you to find out like this that I’m not...exactly who I said I was. But you’ve never faced anything like this before and we just want to help.”

Steve stared at you for a long moment before closing his eyes and reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. When he opened his blue eyes and fixed them on you again, his demeanor had softened considerably.

“Alright,” he conceded. “What’d you have in mind?”

Glancing over your shoulder to consult the boys, you turned just in time to see Dean grimace and storm out of the room.

“Let me get back to you,” you sighed softly. Flashing Steve and Bucky an apologetic look, you jogged out of the room after Dean.

“Dean, wait!” He paused in his tracks, keeping his back to you. “Dean?”

He spun around, green eyes blazing with conflicting emotions. “What do you want from me, Y/N? Do you expect me to hang around and protect this douchebag just because you care so freaking much about him?”

You flinched back at his words, but refused to let him intimidate you. “I want you to stick around because we’re a team and it’s what we do. We hunt these things and save people because it’s what’s right.”

“What if I don’t give a damn if it’s what’s right, Y/N? What if I don’t care if this bastard gets Mr. Perfect because he’s taking you away from me?”

“Dean, he’s not… He isn’t taking me away from you. It’s just...it’s complicated right now, but we’ll figure it out. Together, just like we always do.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean? ‘We’ll figure it out.’” He was still glowering at you, but there was a sign of defeat in his voice. “Do you…”

“I don’t know right now,” you answered quietly. “Please. I need you and Sam for this.”

He shook his head and briefly turned away from you. “Fine...what’s your master plan for saving Captain Perfect anyway?”

“...I’m working on it,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze to the ground so he couldn’t see the tears that were beginning to creep up. After a beat of silence, Dean hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“Thought that was my line,” he murmured, instinctively placing a kiss on top of your head.

You wrapped your arms tight around his waist. “I’m so sorry for all of this...”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let’s, uh...we’ll just put it on the backburner for now. Not worry about it. C’mon. I might just have a plan to help Captain Won’t-You-Be-My-Neighbor and his pal, Mr. Roboto.”

You smacked him playfully on the shoulder at the remark and he responded with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. As you followed him back to the room where you’d left Steve, Bucky and Sam, you considered how hard it must be for him to set aside his feelings and focus on coming up with a plan to help Steve. Dean was always one to put others first and it was one of the many things you loved about him.

You loved him. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?

But as you noticed the way Steve’s eyes lit up when you re-entered the room, you were reminded of how you’d come to be in this situation in the first place. Your chest tightened and tears pricked your eyes once more as you wondered how you were ever supposed to get through any of this.

Somehow you’d managed to fall in love with them both-- and you didn’t have a clue what you were going to do about it.

Part 2

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anonthenullifier · 6 years

Note

scarlet visions meeting the rest of the young avengers?

Hello! This one is quite a bit outside of my comfort zone as I do not write anything Young Avengers, but I’ll give it a shot. Side note: I did not include Vision/Jonas because, in my Scarlet Vision timeline/series I really have no firm idea how he would come to exist.

I hope you enjoy it!

“What do you think?”

Vision shifts his hips as he leans forward, heels tapping the side of the building they are sitting atop as he considers his wife’s question. The skirmish below has been persisting for almost twenty three and a half minutes, a time that is not unacceptable, per se, but also not impressive given the opponent is a low level necromancer with a small contingent of undead henchmen. He and Wanda could dispense of such foes in less than five minutes and forty five seconds (as the most conservative estimate) and that includes at least three brushes of his hand along Wanda’s back and one lost-in-the-moment kiss (they’re signature move, or so they have been informed). “They are a bit,” the sheer variety of flashing colors due to the powerful attacks is disorienting from up here, so he imagines it is far worse on the ground, which could be contributing to the overall fight, “discombobulated.”

“Yeah, they aren’t working together, like,” Wanda releases her grip on the thermos of hot chocolate, the air this high frigid, only part of the reason they are snuggled close, his cape and arm wrapped around her, and points a finger at the fight, “Tommy keeps breaking from the group to run, he knows better than that.”

A habit their son has been quite insistent on not breaking, even with various lessons of teamwork in the backyard. “I believe that could be slightly contributed to Billy working closely with,” the roster for the Young Avenger Initiative streams through his mind until he lands on the correct face, “Hulkling, perhaps Tommy is unable to apply our lessons to a group of three.”

“Billy does seem very comfortable with Teddy.” Her voice is identical to the way both Tony and Natasha would talk to him about Wanda, a long long time ago.

“I believe you set the rule we could not insinuate his relationship until he expressly informs us.”

Wanda bumps his shoulder, an action that requires barely any movement to be effective given their close proximity, “I don’t think they can hear us up here.” The hot chocolate hovers to her lips as they watch the continued attacks below, each action and movement unhelpfully independent from the others in the team. “Oh, Cassie’s growing.”

Stature, or so her file indicates is her preferred hero name, is gigantic yet again, but Vision cannot tell if the growth is strategic and purposeful or part of every hero’s experimentation (Wanda calls it a guessing game) with their newfound abilities. “Hawkeye has broken another window.”

“So when do we step in?”

Vision finds his shoulders rising and falling of their own accord as he runs through Captain Rogers’ instructions. “We were told to only intervene if there is a teachable moment, otherwise we must remain purely observational.”

“Well I’d say not working as a team is teachable,” something Vision wholeheartedly concurs with, “just have to wait for Nate to re-materialize from wherever he went.”

Iron Lad’s file is the densest of the group, a dizzying yet enjoyable puzzle Vision spent the afternoon studying, yet he still shares Wanda’s exasperation at watching the young man flicker and weave in and out of the fight. “How shall we proceed, once he returns?”

The thermos hovers again as her eyes squint, lips pursing in contemplation and the sight fills him with a comfortable, familiar warmth. “I say we go with a shield drop and then,” Wanda hums a little as she continues to watch the melee, body wiggling slightly while she cycles through the available attack patterns, “I’ll do a Scarlet burst while you take out the henchmen and we end with a Poltergeist.”

Her plan would certainly eliminate the threat, but, “That is quite dramatic.”

Wanda shrugs at this, “They’re more likely to remember something showy.”

A tactic they have occasionally fallen back on when training the boys, particularly for dull and repetitive drills. If they can demonstrate how the skill might lead to a full powered application, then the repetitiveness is suddenly deemed worthwhile. “Very well. Nathaniel is back.”

Vision stands first, hand reaching down to help Wanda up, her powers rearranging their observation tools into neat piles they can easily retrieve afterwards. Once Wanda is ready she turns towards him, the giddy grin on her face one she flashes him anytime they’re about to, in her words, kick some serious ass. She steps towards him, their bodies flush, a requirement of the maneuver, and her hands trace the vibranium clasp of his cape, “Remember, Maximoff, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, bending to place a kiss to her lips that accompanies his whispered promise, “I will be gentle.”

A synchronized, centering inhale and they exhale while stepping off the edge of the building, a scarlet concave shield forming underneath their feet, helping to even out the rush of air billowing his cape and her hair upwards. One minor turn of their bodies realigns them closer to the villain and that’s when he increases his density to speed up their descent, Wanda’s powers flowing more steadily in preparation of landing, and then, right at the last second, Vision goes incorporeal, depositing Wanda in a bubble of pulsating red on the ground as he phases through the cement. Based on visual data from their reconnaissance on the roof, he emerges precisely four feet from Wanda, hands phasing into the undead henchman within a millisecond of reappearing. In his periphery, as he phases and dismantles the lackeys, he can see the mesmerizing crackle of scarlet in the air and its reflection on the building, a technique meant to disorient a foe (and sometimes him, if he is not careful). Vision also intercepts chatter via his auditory processor some Wows a holy shit and then, a smile forming on his face at once again embarrassing his children, a plaintive and annoyed seriously from Billy and an unfortunate expletive from Tommy (which means yet one more lecture on language and perhaps mentioning the continued issue with Steve).

The density shifting assault continues until Wanda’s powers grow into an overwhelming frenzy, a long established cue for the next phase of the attack, the last henchman crumbling to the ground as Vision hovers, bringing his body horizontal and parallel to the ground. He flies directly towards his wife, phasing just as he reaches her, her body shivering at his passing through, and then he bursts from the cloud of scarlet, advancing on the necromancer and solidifying his body just in time to deliver a blow to the man’s chest, sending him backwards onto the ground. Scarlet ropes tether the man to the cement, Wanda sauntering up next to Vision, her hand dipping below his cape for a congratulatory squeeze, which kickstarts his body into an operantly conditioned response of turning towards his wife, his fingers tangling in her hair as he breathes in her essence, their mouths meeting and the world simply falling away.

Tommy’s irritated, “What are you doing here?” forces them to remember that they are here for a purpose.

A slow, easy step backwards angles Vision’s body towards the teens, their faces familiar from the files, their attributes and personalities clear in his head based on the stories the boys tell, but this is the first time meeting the members of the initiative. Half of them stand with arms crossed and perturbed stares, while the others form a spectrum from amused to curious to horrified (Billy, in this instance). “Captain Rogers assigned Wanda and myself to supervise your mission.”

Iron Lad, one of the arms-crossed cohort, and, from Vision’s understanding, the de facto leader, wades into the conversation. “Last I checked supervising’s not the same as intervening.”

“You are correct.”

Wanda’s hand brushes his shoulder, a tight smile on her face lets Vision know she wishes to handle the issue, and so he stops talking, acquiescing to her desire with a small nod. “We also had orders to step in if we felt you weren’t performing at your best.” She shrugs, it’s small, indifferent, but that is not the same as meek, the dismissive and authoritative tone of her voice setting the young heroes up to challenge her at their own risk, “You were nowhere near your best.”

The comment incites many displeased glares, a muttered bullshit from someone that better not have been Tommy, yet none of the young heroes immediately counter back. In the two second silence, Vision determines to utilize a softer approach meant to harmonize Wanda’s bluntness, a, as he has heard in the common lexicon, good-cop, bad-cop paradigm. “Why were,” Vision realizes they had not determined what to go by in the presence of Billy and Tommy’s compatriots, whether they remain causal with first names, go formal with Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, or if they utilize hero names, for which his is no different than the casual but Wanda has some social distance. He determines to remain undecided and rely on pronouns and hand gestures to clarify the subjects of his sentence, “we able to subdue the foe far quicker than you?”

Cassie shrugs, gloved hand flinging out to the side to emphasize the obviousness of the response, “Because you’ve been heroes forever.”

A fair statement but not specific enough, so Vision tries the question from a more direct angle, “Though true, that is not sufficient to justify how we eliminated the threat in three minutes and thirty four seconds and you were unable to do so in the twenty eight minutes and fifty six seconds before our intervention.” The information might have a greater impact on them than Wanda’s prior words, if the increased gloom on their faces is an indication. “What actions did we take that differed from your own and thus contributed to our efficiency?”

“Listen,” Kate - or Hawkeye, as she has been passed the mantle from Clint, a surprise to everyone that it was not one of his own children to carry on the name (though that was a relief to Laura) - points her bow first at Vision and Wanda, “if I have to make-out with them,” the bow sweeps to the right to indicate the rest of the team, “to win a fight, I’m out.”

Sniggers follow her sardonic response, though Billy seems to be blanching at the turn in conversation, and then Cassie throws an arm over the archer’s shoulder, “You know I’m the best choice.”

“That,” Vision glances at Wanda, receiving an unhelpful shrug as the teens in front of them begin arguing over who would be the ideal makeout partner to end a fight, “that is not the,” the thing with having twin boys is that there is always arguing over which, sometimes, unfortunately, one must raise a voice to get attention back. What Vision failed to consider is the amplification of distracted chatter that would occur with numerous individuals of this age. “Wanda?”

A scarlet spark erupts in the middle of the group with a, “Pay attention.” The only two that look somewhat remorseful are Hulkling and Iron Lad, but at least the rest are quiet, mostly. “Making out has only ever won us three, maybe four fights. Plus,” a warning rings in her voice as Wanda moves her gaze across each of their faces, “only consensual making out during and after fights.”

“I-” Vision nods, trying to follow-up the comment but insteads cycles back to the original, “Yes, thank you. What tactical difference was there between your fight and ours?”

Being an Avenger has been Vision’s full-time job from his creation, one he has considered leaving, on occasion, but can never fully commit to such an enormous change. In this moment, with the silence thickening as elongated seconds pass and the group in front of him all seem interested in everything but him, he determines being a teacher is not in his future, his fingers growing antsy at the continued hush. But then Teddy meets his eyes, an unsure but hopeful smirk on his face as he raises his hand, “Yes, Hulkling?”

“Um, well, Vis- Mr. Maximoff?” At least he is not alone in his uncertainty of names, “Maybe we could have been more,” he lifts his hands, starting them far apart and swooping them until they meet, fingers clasped, “together in our attacks?”

Wanda sends them all a beaming, proud smile, “Yes, your teamwork and cohesiveness needs a lot of work.” Her arm loops through Vision’s, tugging him towards her until their sides are touching, “We trained over and over and over again on coordinated attacks, studied each others powers-”

A quiet, “And mouths,” comes from the archer but Wanda keeps moving without acknowledgement.

“It is rare that one person alone eliminates a threat.” She pauses, emphasizing the fact. “Figure out how to be a unit and you won’t have to be saved by us again.”

The words may sink in, they may not, none of the individuals in front of them betray their thoughts, until Iron Lad nods, lips arching downwards in thought. “I think we,” he turns to his teammates, “should go work on that.”

A chorus of sures and okays go along with the decision as the group starts to leave, Billy and Tommy hanging back, clearly torn between what to do, though Vision is not certain why. “So,” Billy interlaces his fingers while he haltingly proceeds with his thought, “can we go or do we have, you know, curfew?”

“I believe in this instance,” Vision mentally confirms his answer with Wanda before offering it to the boys, “you may be home later than usual.”

“Awesome.”

Once the boys are gone, the necromancer deposited safely in a containment cell awaiting a meeting with a judge in the morning, and they are back home, snuggled on the couch, Wanda nodding off on his chest as his hands work through her hair, he finally reaches a decision he had been waiting to make until he’d been able to process the evening. “They seem an admirable group.”

#scarlet vision #vision #wanda maximoff #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #hulkling #cassie lang #iron lad #kate bishop #teddy #Young Avengers #the maximoffs #fanfic #mine #ask anon #seriously I don't really know anything about YA #so I hope this is somewhat accurate #this will probably be the last thing I write with the YA #thanks for the ask

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 18

Hickies and Dinners

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n and Bucky attempt to spend some time with the avengers

Warnings: swearing, implied smut, mentions of hickies, Steve being a complete dickhead

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

After another morning spent in bed; kissing, touching, fucking- you get the gist, we decided to head downstairs for a few hours to see the rest of the team. As much as I'd like to avoid Steve Tony and Peter, Bucky convinced me that I needed to spend time with someone that wasn't him, like Nat or Thor. So I agreed with a little bit of persuasion, if you'd like to call it that.

We walked through the corridors, neglecting to hold hands as we didn't want to boast or anything in case we came across steve - after all, we both still cared about him and I hated the broken look on his face when he'd seen us together. We chatted mindlessly, not really about anything until we reached the door to the common room.

Heading inside, I perched myself on a barstool by the breakfast bar that separated the living room area from the kitchen, whilst Bucky leant against the counter the other side - hands flat against the cool marble.

"Hey guys." Clint greeted from where him and Nat sat on the sofa a feet feet away, Nat reaching forward for the remote and turning down the show they were watching slightly.

"Hey." I smiled back, along with Bucky.

"I feel like we haven't seen you guys in ages," Nat chimed in, sinking back into the cushioned sofa with a little smirk. "Could it be a coincidence?" She said smugly. We hadn't officially become a couple, so Steve must've said something to the rest of the team.

It was that moment the steve and Peter walked in, Peter apparently trying to teach steve some kind of slang.

"Hey Stevie." Bucky said with a tight smile, nodding towards his best friend. Steve froze momentarily, before returning the tight smile.

"Hey Buck." He mumbled, before brushing last us and into the kitchen to grab a drink. The drone of the coffee machine filled the awkward silence until Peter stepped in.

"What's that?" Peter frowned at me, finger lifted and pointed towards my neck.

"What?" I asked, confused and glancing behind me to bucky, who simply shrugged but his sly smile told me otherwise.

"On your neck." Clint added, eyes squinted as they stared at my throat, Nat's attention bow drawn too. I gasped, promising myself to hit Bucky as hard as I could when we got back to my room later as my hand shot up to cover the deep purple bruise on my neck.

"It's nothing, just a burn." I dismissed quickly, glaring at Nat as she raised a brow.

"A burn? From what?" Peter persisted, folding his arms over his chest.

"My curling iron." I quickly waved off, fingering with the hem of my shirt.

"But your hair is straight." Nat inquired, and I gave her a look.

"What are we all hammering my daughter about?" Tony pondered aloud as he sauntered in, refusing to meet my eyes. I rolled mine, holding back a scoff. It was the first time I'd seen him since that night and I felt like a whole in my chest had been ripped open.

"Y/n has a hickey." Peter smirked, and Tony's eyes widened as he wheeled round to stare at me.

"Who the hell gave you a hickey?" Tony almost spat, knowing full well by that avoided gazes and awkward coughs that me and Steve still weren't on speaking terms. Bucky spotted a wolffish grin, holding back a chuckle and all attention was drawn to him. "Something funny, Barnes?" Tony asked, hands on his hips.

"I think we just found the curling iron." Nat smirked, bucky letting out his chuckle.

"Seriously Barnes?" Tony seethed, face almost as red as mine as he glared the super soldier down.

"Someone's in trouble." Clint sung, too smug to care about my embarrassment.

"Dad, it's nothing." I tried, but everyone seemed to forget what they were going to say when the door slammed shut.

"Did Steve just-?" Peter started.

"Leave? I think so." Nat said, all smirks diminished now as the tension rose.

"C'mon, doll." Bucky supplied with a smile smile, "how 'bout I take you out for lunch?" He offered, holding out his hand which I gladly took.

...

Dinner that night was...awkward, to say the least. Clint had insisted that Bucky and y/n join them all for dinner, minus Tony and Pepper as they were having a date night.

He'd convinced them by telling y/n that the whole team missed her and just wanted to see her happy, and that's what Bucky seemed to make her. Y/n had finally accepted with a long, begrudging sigh and told the marksman that they'd be down for seven.

That's how they'd found themselves where they were now, Bucky's arm secure around her waist as him and y/n walked their way down to dinner. They'd kept it simple, both still in sweats and y/n in a stolen t-shirt of Bucky's, with the super-soldier's hair pulled back into a low ponytail - a few wispy framing pieces fallen out around his soft face.

"It'll be fine, Doll." Bucky murmured in her ear as they exited the elevator, lips soft against her hair as he placed a quick, reassuring kiss there. Y/n huffed a sigh, giving her boyfriend a Curt nod before they were entering the kitchen.

"There they are!" Nat called, smile wide as she beckoned the couple over. But y/n stopped in her tracks as they rounded the corner, the sight of Steve cuddled up with some...blonde the other side of the table making her heart sink. Bucky sensed it immediately, ever so patient with her feelings, and tightened his grip on her waist, giving her a little squeeze before leading her to side at the opposite end of the table with Nat and Thor.

"Hey y/n, hey Sarge, how are you?" Nat greeted with a smile as they took a seat, y/n's eyes seemingly glued to the other end of the obnoxiously long table.

"F-fine." Y/n mumbled, completely disengaged. Nat and Bucky both sighed, Bucky putting on a boyish grin before replying himself.

"I'm good, thanks. Evening, Thor." The super soldier smiled, and Thor bid him a good evening too. The conversation seemed to flow for a moment, the three avengers exchanging pleasantries as y/n watched Steve. After a while bucky got fed up, deciding to do something about it himself.

"Hey Steve, who's the pretty girl?" Bucky smirked, calling out over y/n's head. Bruce and Steve looked their way, along with the blonde girl clinging to Steve.

"Oh, hey Buck." Steve said with a clearly forced smile. He looked down at the girl, placing his hand over her's on the table. "This is Sharon, an agent here." He introduced.

"Well it's lovely to meet you-"

"Now I'd love to know how you found a whore so quickly after dumping me." Y/n mused, elbow perched on the table as she sipped her drink. Steve's face dropped, and Sharon frowned.

"I'm sorry?" Her soft voice pondered, question in her tone.

"Oh, well since Steve only broke up with me a couple days ago, seemingly heartbroken, I was wondering where he found you." Y/n clarified, that Stark sass finally showing through. Awkward glances were exchanged.

"You must be y/n Stark. I've heard a lot about you." Sharon finally pieces together, met with a nod from y/n.

"Nothing good, I assume." She bit back.

"No, you're right. Just how you decided to fuck Steve's best friend." Sharon laughed without humour, both women completely unaware of their glowering boyfriend's behind them.

"So when did you met this one, hm? Was it while I was being tortured for weeks on end for information about you and your little club that I failed to tell them, huh?" Y/n asked almost mockingly, eyes locked on steve now. He cleared his throat, a shattered loom crossing his deep, blue eyes as he looked away.

"Doll-" Bucky started.

"You know, you might not believe this, but not everyone utilises their trauma because not everyone is like y/n Stark." Sharon clipped, voice chirpily snippy.

"Not everyone can be." Y/n cut back with a smile, fake as can be.

"That's Stark'a daughter, alright." Thor chuckled.

"That's my girl." Bucky smirked, giving y/n a chaste kiss when she turned to face him. Sharon rolled her eyes as she scoffed, turning back to Steve as they murmured quietly. Bucky looped his arm around y/n's shoulder, pulling her into his side and pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. Nat winked at her and Thor grinned boyishly.

"So how's the hickey, y/n?" Nat prompted, popping apiece of bread in her mouth. Y/n's eyes widened and Bucky smirked, as Nat had spoken extra loud so Sharon and Steve had looked over again.

"It's fine." Y/n mumbled quietly, pushing her food around her plate and resting her hand over her neck to hide the bruise. Bucky hated the dark, jealousy-clouded glare that Steve was shooting them - desperate for his best friend back.

All the tension was driving him mad. After years of not being able to see Steve, he fucked up their friendship the first night he was back. Well done Bucky, he thought with a glum puff of air.

Sparing a glance to Sharon and Steve, Bucky almost felt as if he was intruding as he looked on as Steve nipped and sucked at the girl's neck playfully, Sharon's flirtatious giggled wafting over. The super soldier barely realise how tight he was gripping his knife and fork until Thor snapped his fingers in front of Bucky's face, before repeating a question about how he was finding life in the Tower.

Bucky's jaw had been clenched so hard it nearly hurt, his eyes a deep blue that was filled with anger as he watched steve and Sharon. At least him and y/n were being subtle and not showing off, but what Steve was doing was clearly trying to get to y/n somehow, and it was working.

Her eyes were burning with a glare, jaw tensed and attention divided between the people in front of her and the sight the other end of the table. Bucky huffed out an exasperated sigh and leant back in his chair, stretching his arm over the top of y/n's head before resting it along the back of her seat, trying his hardest to focus on what Thor was saying now.

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Our Doll 3 // Peace of Our Time

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | that one party scene from ultron

Warnings | mentions of drug usage, alcohol consumption, swearing?, kissing I think

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Taking a deep breath, I rolled the joint between my fingers, not really sure what I was doing. I sighed deeply, letting it tumble from my hand soundlessly into the small drawer next to my bed before shoving it shut, standing up as the wood thudded. I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands as I let out a frustrated noise.

The stress, the nightmares, everything - it was becoming unbearable. Every time I let my eyes slip shut, The General's face clouded my mind, haunting the edges until I had no choice but to see it, see him.

My head snapped up at the sound of a soft knock against my door, my eyes drifting from the closed drawer and back to the door.

"Doll, can I come in?" It was Bucky, my shoulders tensing even more. He couldn't find out. Hesitantly, I called out for him to come back in. The handle turned slowly, tauntingly, the rough wood creaking open as the super soldier pushed his way in. "Hey." He smiled, striding over to me, hooking an arm around my shoulders and placing a chaste kiss to my temple.

"Hi. What's up?" I pondered, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against Bucky's chest. He smiled into my hair, dropping another kiss there.

"Were going on a mission. Nat wanted to know if you were going." Bucky asked, cheek settles against the top of my head.

"Seeing as we don't even know of my powers still work, I'd say no. But you should feel free to go, I'd hate to stop you doing something you enjoyed." I smiled, turning my head to look up at him. Bucky smiled too, a sweet thing that tickled his eyes.

"I'm staying right here, doll. I think a mission might be too much for me to handle right now. Not to mention it's a HYDRA base they're taking down, memories are still to fresh." He smiled down at me, meeting my lips for a sweet kiss.

...

"There were more enhanced. Maria found them, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. We didn't see them coming." Steve rambled, letting his first connect with the door, the wood spluttering under his strength. "Shit." He mumbled, shaking his fist off and dropping his head forward.

Bucky stood up from where he sat on the bed, wrapping his arms around steve and resting his head against the Blonde's back. Steve tried shrugging him off, but the soldier wouldn't budge.

"Stevie, calm down. It's not your fault. You'd fill got what you needed." Bucky cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to Steve's neck.

"But what if it's not enough...what if the twins come back? I mean we didn't kill them, they're still out there." Steve muttered, but y/n could see from where she sat on the bed the way he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, shoulders slumping and jaw unclenching.

"We should get ready." Y/n mentioned, jumping up as the boys parted, all heading off to get ready for the party her dad was throwing in celebration.

...

Laughter chorused, glasses clinked against surfaces and mindless chatter created a soft hum that laid an undertone throughout the party. Upon arriving, I had clung to Bucky - who had equally clung to me - whilst Steve wandered off to mingle. If anything, it has benefitted me, as I got to find out why Bucky was such a ladies man in the 40s - and let me tell you, I never would've guessed that the Winter fucking Soldier, the man who taught me to throw a knife and never miss, who taught me how to dislocate someone in over 50 different ways, was one of the best dancers I'd ever meet.

A little applaud echoed from the bar as Bucky finished the song in a dip, letting his arms cradle me as he held me close to the floor. As we straightened, Bucky was drawn off by someone tugging at his arm - I think it was Rhodey? I, on the other hand, was dying for a drink and was already half way to the bar.

As I approached, standing before the smooth counter, a glass of whiskey was already placed before me, a smirking Nat stood looking at me.

"Hey, Nat." I smiled, picking up the cool glass and taking a sip. Her smirk turned softer and leant against the bar.

"Hey, y/n. How's Bucky doin'" she said, brows raised. My cheeks flushed pink, eyes downcast as I mumbled lowly,

"He's good. We're good." And with that I picked up my drink, downing the rest in one and setting the cup on the side, wiping over my mouth with the back of my hand. Nat winked at me, picking up the glass and moving to giving me a refill.

Upon placing the glass in front of me again, I lifted it up and swirled the golden liquid in the glass.

"Do you feel like spicing this thing up a bit?" Nat murmured, my head instantly shooting up.

"And what did you have in mind?" I shot back, and she curled a finger in gesture for me to lean closer.

"I have an idea." She smirked, eyes darting towards a gap in the stairs, a wickedly mischievous sparkle in her eye as we look at Thor between the space, his hammer obscuring our vision of him completely. When she turned back to me, we were both smirking, the glint in my eyes matching hers.

"Tell me everything."

...

As we approached, me and Nat took a seat on the sofas surrounding a coffee table that the other Avengers were sat around. Nat longed near Clint whilst I shuffled my way next to Bucky, who was next to Steve on the other side.

"Hey, doll." Bucky murmured, laying his arm over my shoulders and kissing my temple. Steve offered me a smile, but nothing further as the three of us hadn't told anyone about our relationship yet.

"Did you guys know that there's a knife," Thor paused for a second, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find his words, "there's this knife, and it gets so hot, that it can instantly turn bread to toast if you cut it?" He asked, hands gesturing wildly and laughing with revelation at the end of his sentence, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa.

Everyone eyes him warily, whilst Steve and me were holding back laughter and Nat was shaking her head.

"Oh wow," Bucky mumbled from beside me, breath tickling me ear, "imagine stabbing someone with that." Me and Steve instantly stopped laughing, both turning to look at the super soldier between up with wide eyes and exchanged worried glances. Nat burst into laughter, as did Clint as Bucky grinned and chuckled at his own joke.

"Well, Barnes, if it was that hot it would instantly cauterise the wound so it wouldn't actually be that effective..." Tony explained, plopping down into a seat the other side of the table. I held back a glare, as did Bucky. As much as my dad had pissed me off recently, I'd rather be civil with him than argue non-stop.

"It's effective if you want information." I smirked, my expression mirrored by Nat.

"Exactly what I was thinking, y/n." She smiled darkly and everyone began to chuckle.

"Guys I have a feeling we just broke Thor." Steve laughed, pointing towards the god of thunder who was looking very conflicted.

"But why would you stab someone when you could have toast?" He wondered aloud, sparking a new laughing fit from the group.

"How about we play a game?" Maria wandered from where she sat, bringing her beer to her lips and taking a sip.

"Oh, yes!" Nat exclaimed, sitting up, "how about truth or dare?" She asked almost giddily as I suppressed my smirk.

"Yes! I love that game." I chimed in, met my that hums of agreement form the rest of the group. "Bucky, you should start."

"Okay." He smiled, leaning back into the sofa more and looking around the group. "Thor. Truth or dare?"

"I'll go truth." Thor replied hesitantly - it was fairly obvious that he had never played the game before. I could only imagine what party games are like up on Asgard.

"Who is the most boring person here?"

"Definitely Clint." Thor said through a laugh, making Clint glare at him.

"How dare you. At least I use a bow, Nat sticks to a fucking gun!" Clint protested, drawing even more laughter from the rest of us.

"But Nat actually had a cool backstory." I defended, and Clint sent me a glare too. "There, your go."

"So I just, ask someone if they want a truth or dare?" He clarified and we all nodded. "Nat, truth or dare?" Nat was lounging again, beer in hand.

"Truth."

"Who is the strongest avenger?" Thor smirked, sipping from his drink.

"You or Bruce." Nat smiled, and Bruce returned the gesture - if not sheepishly. "Y/n, truth or dare?" I smirked, our plan was falling into play.

"Dare." I said lazily, examining my nails and humming quietly.

"I dare you to pick up Thor's hammer." Nat said, eyeing up the hammer as it sat on the table. I scoffed, playing along, and stood up. The others cheered around me as I walked over to it.

"Don't worry if it's too heavy, y/n. I know you're only young." Thor smirked.

"Don't be too hasty, Thor. That girl can throw a punch." Steve commented. I began to hum a little louder, wrapping my hands around the handle. I tugged, and when I heard the gasps I knew it was working. A smirk graced my lips, and Rhodey chocked on his beer, whilst Thor's face dropped.

"Wait, what?" He scoffed, frowning at me.

"Holy shit! I did it!" I exclaimed through laughter, but my laughter was nothing to do with the fact that I'd lifted it. I stopped humming, and frowns settled on everyone's faces as the image of my lifting the hammer above my head melted into one of my stood next to the table, hands gasping the handle but the hammer refusing to move.

"I- I don't understand.." Thor mumbled, and Steve's eyes grew wide whilst Bucky smirked, catching on.

"Oh, you little bitch." Clint whined, and Bucky joined Nat and me as we laughed.

"It's not my fault all you idiots forgot I can literally control minds." I scoffed, but burst into laughter again when I caught a glimpse of Nat clutching her side as she giggled from the corner of my eye. As we finally calmed down, we were wiping tears of laughter from our cheeks, trying to let everyone else play the game again.

The evening moved on, and more laughs were shared as everyone ended up having their go at picking up the hammer. Needless to say, not one succeeded except Thor - much to my dad's dismay.

"So Capsicle, how's Barnes in bed?" Tony threw out casually after a while, and I choked on my beer as we were given pontes looks. I was still smudged in between the two super soldier, one smirking and one with red-flushed cheeks.

"What?" Steve stammered, eyes trained down as Thro and Clint smirked.

"Oh come on, Cap. We all heard you." Nat chimed in, red lips curled into a devious smile.

"I would ask about the third part involved but I don't really need to hear how fast my daughter made you cum." Tony waved off, and my cheeks instantly flushed with heat as my skin got hot.

"Dad!" I exclaimed, almost back to our playful banter as if nothing had happened - maybe the alcohol had momentarily ruptured our hate.

"What?!" My dad shot back, arms out in question as I glared him down.

"We could all hear you." Rhodey confirmed, a slightly disgusted expression written over his scrunched-up face.

"What was it you said - oh I know," Nat began, but suddenly everyone clutched their ears as a piercing ring invaded the almost-empty tower. Then it stopped.

Tony pulled out his phone-like gadget that I'd never understood before checking it, but the clang of metal grabbed our attention. The staggering, almost drunken-like mesh of metal and wires stumbled in front of us, whirring echoing in a soft croon. It turned slowly, and Steve quickly raised to his feet, whilst Bucky possessively crossed his arm over me.

"You're all monsters. You talk about such petty things when you're all killers."

"Stark." Steve bit.

"Jarvis," Tony begun, but was met with no response.

"I'm sorry I was asleep," it's head was wandering, searching the tower as it looked from side to side, "or...I was a dream."

"Jarvis, reboot." Tony pulled out with phone again, tapping the screen, "must have a buggy suit," he mumbled to himself.

"There was a terrible noise...and I was tangled." The robot grunted, holding a arm which lacked a hand up in front of its face, "strings...had to kill the other guy." He explained, and nearly everyone was standing now, on edge. My hand reached up my skirt, fingers wrapping around the handle of one of the small blades I'd strapped to my thighs - as usual. "He was a good guy.."

"You killed someone?" Steve frowned.

"Wouldn't have been my first call," the robot defended, and I began to unsheathe the knife. "But down in the real world we're faced with ugly choices."

"Who sent you?" Thor spoke, somehow the epitome of calm. I gasped as my dad's voice played from the robot, his words echoing as I stated at the mangled, skull-like head of the robot.

I see a suit of amour around the world...

Something must've clicked for Bruce, because he instantly looked towards my dad and mumbled,

"Ultron."

"In the flesh." It confirmed, "well, no. Not yet." People exchanged glances. "Not this Christmas, but I'm ready." It explained, looking at itself. I could see Maria take her gun off safety as she slowly stood and took it as a signal to bring the blade up in front of me. "I'm on mission."

"What mission?"

"Peace of our time." It declared, and before any of us could make a move sparks of flying gold-merged-yellow exploded from the walls behind the robot, blurts of sliver and red flashing across my vision as shards of glass were sent into the air.

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

The Shop (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: The Shop Rating: Explicit Length: 3000 Warnings: Smut (Discussion of sex toys and other sex-related topics, and a heavy dose of smooching and rough sex) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set December 1997. Starts with Javier POV and shifts to Reader’s. Two-part two adventure. Summary: Javier returns to the shop.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Javier tapped his thumb against the steering wheel as he stared across the street at the shop. He felt like he was sitting on a stakeout, sitting there waiting for someone to come out. But in reality, he was waiting to get the courage to go inside. It hadn’t been so bad when he went in with her. No. It had been fucking nervewracking.

What if one of his students saw him going into a sex shop? How would he ever live that down?

Christmas was right around the corner and he wanted to get something new. And considering what came from the last trip to the sex shop — he had a good feeling about this venture. And this time he wanted more of the focus to be on her. Sure, she was an active participant in the… pegging, but he wanted to do something for her.

And that was the only reason he managed to get himself out of the car and into the shop. For her.

“Good afternoon sir!” Rocky said cheerily from behind the counter. “How can I help you tod—” He clasped his hands together. “Welcome back! Satisfied with your previous purchase?”

Javier swallowed thickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. “You could say that.” He cleared his throat, looking away nervously. “I’m looking for something for her this time.”

“I see.” He nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “What are you thinking of?”

Javier glanced towards the door. He could still run.

“I don’t know.” He admitted with a shrug. “Outside of her, um… vibrator, we haven’t really explored much with.” Javier gestured towards the aisles of toys.

Rocky crossed his arms across his chest, canting his head to the side as he regarded Javier. “You’re very uncomfortable with all of this, aren’t you?”

“You could tell?” Javier cracked a faint smile, nodding his head slowly. “Our last purchase was our first real exploring outside of the ‘norm’.”

“There are no norms. It’s about what you’re comfortable with.” Rocky explained, “I don’t want to assume anything about your relationship, but neither of you struck me as the vanilla type.”

Javier scratched at the back of his neck, “You could say that, I guess.”

“Come with me,” Rocky waved his hand, urging Javier to follow him down one of the aisles. Javier glanced at the shelves, feeling somewhat scandalized by what he saw. He never had a problem going into brothels in Colombia — but there was something about being in a sex shop that made him want to crawl into a hole and die.

It was probably that Texas upbringing, like she’d teased.

“And roleplay is entirely out?” Rocky questioned, nodding his head towards a display of costumes that were clearly designed for sex.

“Yeah.” Javier nodded. “Not really our thing.”

“Then I really think toys are going to be your best bet,” He stopped walking, gesturing towards the shelf.

What the hell was he doing there?

Javier had stared down the barrel of guns, but there was something truly unsettling about staring at a display of neon on colored dildos styled to look like cocks. Shit, he couldn’t wait to tell her about this. If he didn’t go with something, she wasn’t going to believe he’d actually gone by himself.

“Personally, I’m not really looking for something to uh,” He gestured to a toy that seemed obscenely large. “Compete with.”

“Understood.” Rocky nodded, looking back at the display then. “Have the two of explored a little rear entry?”

“You gotta say it like that?” Javier huffed, his hands going to his hips. “Yeah. We’ve been doing it for years.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“You could always spice things up,” Rocky pointed to one of the toys that was advertised as a Booty Rocket.

“Jesus Christ.” Javier swore under his breath, rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet. “What did I say about not wanting to compete.”

“Oh, no! No.” He shook his head, “This has the potential to be quite fun for both of you.” He picked up the book and showed it to Javier. “You insert this into—”

“Yep.” Javier cut him off.

“I have heard from many satisfied couples who have used this, or one of the similar toys, in tandem with regular intercourse. I understand the vibrations are quite pleasurable for both participants.”

Javier blinked slowly, his jaw dropping a little as he realized what Rocky was saying. Oh. “I see. Well, you didn’t lead us astray last time.”

Rocky grinned. “You would not believe how many couples I have helped. I call it a gift.”

“Yeah, alright.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Wrap it up like one.” He hesitated, “And thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Rocky assured him as he headed back towards the counter. Javier lingered for a second, his eyes wandering over the display warily with a shake of his head. Things certainly hadn’t been dull since she stepped into his life.

————

“It’s not Christmas yet,” You remarked as you spotted a neatly wrapped box sitting at the foot of the bed. “Javi, what’s this?”

“You’ve got to open it.” Javier smirked as he shut the bedroom door behind him. “Otherwise you’re not going to believe where I was today.”

“Where were you today?” You questioned, shaking the box curiously. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know what he’d gotten you for Christmas. You had been there when he’d picked the bracelet out at the jewelry store.

That was going to be the closet you ever got to letting a man pick out a piece of jewelry for you. As it was, the jeweler had been so coy with his remarks about, “Wouldn’t you rather pick out a sparkling diamond ring?” No, you just wanted the platinum bracelet that matched Javier’s ring. And you wanted your daughters’ birthdays engraved into it.

But that wasn’t this. That gift was already wrapped and under the Christmas tree, alongside the fountain pen Javier had been dying for. Mostly because Connie had gotten Steve a similar one for his birthday a few months back.

Javier joined you at the foot of the bed, looking far too pleased with himself for it to be any normal type of gift. You gave him a curious look before you started to peel the paper off.

“Oh my God.” You laughed as you read the name on the box. “Are you serious, Javier?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Javier retorted. “You would’ve been proud of me.”

You cupped his cheek, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m always proud of you, but holy shit.” You laughed again, tearing off the rest of the paper and tossing it on the floor. “This is probably the last thing I would’ve expected from you, Javi.”

Javier shrugged, “I even had a whole conversation with Rocky.”

“And you didn’t die? The earth didn’t swallow you whole?” You pinched his side.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He rubbed at the spot.

“Just checking to see if you’re corporeal.”

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes, before gesturing to the toy. “Do you like it?”

You looked back down at the product. “Aside from the name — Booty Rocket, really? — I like it.” Your eyes wandered over the back of the packaging. “Ten speeds? Seven is enough to kill me with my vibe.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Rocky seemed to think it would be something we’d both enjoy.” Javier nervously cleared his throat. “He suggested that it could be used during… regular sex.”

Your brows shot upwards, “Wait, so you and the toy?” You looked back down at the neon purple rocket in your hands, before looking back at Javier. “I am very into that idea.”

“Really?” He honestly seemed relieved. “After… what we explored, I wanted to try something that was more about you, baby.” Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, giving you a look.

You leaned in and kissed him again, letting your lips linger against his. “That sounds like heaven to me.” You whispered, sitting the toy aside on the bed as you slid your fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe you went in there alone, Javi.” You actually giggled against his lips.

“I nearly left.” He admitted, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “But I knew if I came home empty-handed, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

You bumped your nose against his, “You’re not wrong.” You never would’ve pictured Javier going into that shop again — with or without you. He had been so painfully uncomfortable the first time, you were certain he was not going to go for anything inside. You had been pleasantly surprised, twice now.

“I figured.” Javier ran his hand up your back. “Do you really like it, baby?”

“I love it.” You promised him. “And I love that you went back there.”

He shrugged, “I only went for you.”

“Really?”

Javier nodded. “I wanted to get something where the focus was on you.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, “You’re sweet.”

“Don’t let anyone know.” He teased, resting his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze.

“I think it might already be out.” You laughed, scooting back on the bed. “Come here.” You nudged at his back with your foot as you sank back against the pillows. He smirked at him as you met his gaze.

Javier moved up the bed towards you until he was hovering above you. “You think that secret’s out?”

You nodded, running your fingers over his forearms as he pressed his palms into the mattress at your shoulders. “Mhm.” You hummed as you trailed your foot up the back of his leg. “You kiss too many boo-boos to be anything other than sweet, Javi.” You reminded him as you combed your fingers through his hair.

Javier dipped down to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled back to meet your gaze. He brushed his knuckles against your cheek, “What can I say? I love my girls.”

“And we love you.” You whispered, trailing your fingers down the back of his neck before stroking them over the column of his throat. “I can’t tell what I enjoy more…” You pursed your lips thoughtfully as you looked up at him. “When you punch someone for talking shit about us or when you’ve let Josie put bows in your hair.”

“Still thinking about Laredo?” He questioned as you brushed your thumb over his Adam’s apple.

You bit down on your bottom lip, nodding your head. “I’m still thinking about when you decked Chris too.” You admitted as your foot skimming over the back of his leg again, before your leg wrapped around his hip. “You get this fiery look in your eyes.” You told him, “It’s hot.”

Javier chuckled, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like that, huh?” He questioned, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, before he caught it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make you hiss. “You like it when I’m rough. Don’t you baby?”

“Yes.” You breathed out, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt as you arched up against him. “I love it.”

He pressed a line of kisses along your jaw, trailing his mouth down your throat, his tongue darting out against your skin. He shifted above you, letting more of his weight press you into the mattress and you relished the closeness.

You grabbed at the back of his t-shirt, trying to drag it up his back. Fingers greedy for the bare skin that was revealed. A soft moaned escaped you as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your ear. “Javi.”

Javier rolled his hips forward, the fabric of his jeans rough against your bare thighs where your sleep shorts had road upwards. His gaze flickered in the direction of his recent purchase. “Do you—“

“No.” You shook your head, leaning up to kiss him. “I just want you.”

Need burned straight through you as his tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against your own as he kissed you. His hand moved to grap at your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. The kiss broke only long enough for you to peel his shirt over his head, before discarding it over the side of the bed.

His mouth claimed yours again, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as he rocked into you. You could feel his cock straining against the front of his jeans, the hard length of his cock grinding against the thin fabric of your shorts and underwear. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more.

You tugged at his hair, pulling him back as you drew in ragged breaths. “Are you going to tease me or are you going to fuck me, Javier?” You questioned, baiting him into action.

Javier caught your jaw roughly, even as his thumb soothed over your cheek. “Roll over.” He ordered you, before he released his hold on you and sat back on his knees.

You looked up at him with a smirk, “Make me.”

“Now.” He drawled out as he jerked his belt from its belt loops, tossing it aside.

“No.” You pressed your shoulders back against the mattress and arched your back, your eyes flickering downwards as you watched him unzip his jeans.

“You’re really pushing your luck tonight, baby.” Javier said lowly as he grabbed your leg, running his hand up your thigh as he leaned forward again. His mouth slanting against yours far too briefly before he pulled back, “Roll over. Now.”

You huffed, shoving at his chest to give yourself room to move as you submitted to his request. His lips moved to the crook of your neck and you couldn’t help but smile, reaching back to rake your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to go easy on me, babe.” You reminded him.

His fingers curled loosely around your throat, his lips close to your ear. “Who said anything about easy?” Javier questioned, his fingers splaying out against your throat. “On your knees.”

You complied, fueled by the way he tightened his grip on your throat when you hesitated. Javier tugged your shorts and underwear down your ass, leaving them bunched around your thighs as he moved above you. “Fuck.” You hissed out as you felt his cock brush against your skin.

“Is that what you wanted, baby?” He whispered against the shell of your ear as he slid the head of his cock between your slick folds, teasing you. “I wanna hear you say it.”

A moan rose up in the back of your throat, “Yes.”

Javier sat back on his knees, curling his arm around the middle for support as he kept his fingers wrapped around your throat, guiding you back against his chest. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He drawled out, dragging his cock over your sensitive flesh. “Is this all for me?” He questioned, catching your earlobe and biting down gently as he pressed into you.

“Javi.” You hissed as the angle had his cock hitting all the right spots within you. You reached behind you and curled your fingers around the back of his neck. There was something you had always loved about this — half-dressed and desperate for each other.

He pressed a tender kiss to the curve of your neck, his breath dancing over your skin as he exhaled. “You feel so fucking good, baby.” Javier said as he rolled his hips, his cock barely slipping from you before he was driving into you again.

Javier released his hold on your throat, his hand sliding down over your breasts through your shirt, before his hands grasped at your hips. He held you steady as he moved, fingers digging into the soft flesh there.

You reached downwards, seeking out that little bundle of nerves between your thighs. “Harder.” You urged him as you circled your clit, your inner walls already fluttering as you felt your release starting to build.

You were going to be bruised tomorrow and you were going to love every moment of it. It was winter and sweaters and trousers could hide a variety of sins. “Javi.” You gasped as he kept driving into that sweet spot. Again and again.

“Come for me, baby.” Javier urged. There was something about the tone of his voice that went straight through you, stoking the flames in your veins. You arched back against his chest, crying out softly as your orgasm took hold. His hand replaced yours between your thighs, stroking his thumb over your clit as he slammed into you.

Your body clenched around him, milking his own release from him. He stiffened, breathing heavily against your shoulder before he started rocking his hips, his pace uneven as he spilled out within you.

Javier sat back on his legs, pulling you down onto his lap. His cock still buried within you. You sank against him, your still-clothed back pressed against his bare chest. “Holy shi— Fuck.” He muttered, rubbing lazy patterns over the tops of your thighs.

“Ditto.” You breathed out with a quiet laugh, reaching behind you to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I love you.”

He slid his hands over your waist, pressing a line of kisses over your clothed shoulder. “I love you too.” Javier muttered, “Never cease to amaze me.”

“That’s just the sex talking,” You teased, shifting in his lap. “Let’s try it this weekend.”

“Hmm?”

“Your gift.” You reminded him, tilting your head to look back at him. “Did you forget?” You questioned, brushing your fingers over his cheek as you turned enough to press a kiss to his lips.

Javier rubbed his hand over your hip, “I might’ve been distracted.” He mumbled as he nuzzled at your neck. “Sounds like the weekend is gonna be fun,” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“It always is.” You laughed softly as you sank back against him.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

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sunflowers (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [Smut]

Title: sunflowers Rating: Explicit Length: 3600 Warnings: Smut (pregnancy sex, fingering, cuninglus, they’re so raunchy) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in Februrary 1997. Here is a link to the house that’s described and the dress she’s wearing. Full disclosure this is not one of my favorite chapters, but YOLO. This is 100% Javier being turned on by the dress she’s wearing. Summary: Javier enjoys the dress Reader chooses to wear.

“I can’t wait until we have our own backyard.” You mused as you joined Javier on the porch swing. You had always coveted the Murphy’s backyard, which was ironic considering you had only ever pictured yourself living in an apartment.

The idea of a house — a real home had never crossed your thoughts.

You grinned at Javier as you stole the sunglasses off his face, lifting the hem of your sundress to clean them off. You turned to meet his gaze as you pushed them up the bridge of your nose. Sure, you could get your own sunglasses… but where was the fun in that?

Javier slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “Hopefully those assholes don’t outbid us again.” He sighed, curling his hand around your hip and giving it a squeeze.

“Maybe we should let them know who they’re bidding against.” You quipped as you rested your head against his shoulder, watching Josie as she played with Olive and Emily across the yard. They seemed to be in hot pursuit of an iguana or some other Florida-fauna. Steve was keeping a close eye on them.

You closed your eyes as you tilted your face upwards, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. “I’m glad the weather held out today. There’s definitely something to be said about seventy degree days in February.”

“So am I.” Javier reached across to rest his hand on your stomach, his fingers sprawling out over the curve. “I like this dress.”

“Of course you do,” You rolled your eyes and swatted at his leg playfully.

It was one of your favorite sundresses. You had worn it frequently last summer, but it definitely wasn’t made to be a maternity dress. The hem fell just below your mid-thigh, shorter now that your stomach had claimed extra fabric. And the sunflower pattern was stretched out where the soft fabric clung to your rounded belly.

You despised the frumpy clothes that all the stores thought pregnant women wanted to wear. When you already feel like you’re becoming a beached whale, why would you want to wear a potato sack?

This dress was cute… and your boobs looked amazing in it. Which was an added perk to the outfit.

“What?” Javier feigned innocence as he tilted his head to look at you.

“Nothing. Nothing.” You laughed and shook your head. You knew exactly where his mind had gone, given the way he was gripping at your hip. “I’m going to go see if Connie needs any help in the kitchen.” You told him as you pressed a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Hey,” Javier grabbed your hand as you started to get up, “I’ll come too, baby.”

You interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing lightly as you headed through the glass sliding that led into the Murphy’s kitchen.

You and Javier had always been very physical people. You had never shied away from touching him, even years ago when you were both just friends. But today, you were certain he was being extra touchy. It had started at the condo — he’d held you from behind while you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, followed by his hand on your knee for the duration of the drive over to their house. And now you were certain he hadn’t taken his hands off of you since you arrived.

“Something smells good,” You remarked as you released his hand and moved towards the stove to look at what Connie was making. You pulled Javi’s sunglasses off and tucked them into the front of your dress.

“I’m trying out this new recipe for stovetop enchiladas.” Connie explained, gesturing to the cast iron skillet on the stove. “One of the nurses on the floor gave me the recipe. I’m not sold on it yet.” She smiled at you, “How are you handling spicy food?”

You shrugged a shoulder, “Surprisingly it’s not as much of a trigger as it was with Josie.” You glanced back at Javier, who had his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counters. And his eyes were very much on your ass.

Oh.

“Javi,” You started with a too-sweet voice, smirking when he met your gaze. He knew you caught him staring. “What do you think of this?” You gestured for him to come closer.

He pushed off the counter and walked towards the stove, hands on his hips. “Hmm.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head as he looked at the skillet. “I wouldn’t call these enchiladas.” He offered Connie a sympathetic smile. “But it smells good.”

Connie sighed, “Let’s just hope it tastes good too.” She laughed a little as she moved towards the other side of the kitchen to finish working on the bowl of guacamole.

Javier’s hand moved to rest at the small of your back briefly, smoothing his fingers over your back for he trailed them lower. You bit your lip when he gave your ass a light squeeze. “Hopefully we get the new place.” He remarked, looking towards Connie as his hand lingered on your ass. “We’re looking forward to entertaining.”

“Everyone except Tracy and Jeff.” You added with a laugh. “There’s so much room. I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere with that much square footage.”

He nodded in agreement, “I think pop’s ranch is the only place I’ve been that compares.” Javier walker back towards the counter he’d been holding up before, staring across the kitchen at you.

“I mean I love the condo, but…” You made a face. “I can’t imagine the four of us living in it comfortably.” Your hand went to your stomach. “Plus Josie deserves her own room.”

“And the master walks out to the patio.”

“It also has a massive bathroom.” You pointed out. “That tub would change my life. I haven’t had a bathtub since my first place out of college.”

Connie shot you a look, “You’re making me jealous! I can’t wait to see it when you have a housewarming party. Because you’re getting it.”

“Don’t be too jealous.” Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, “It doesn’t have nearly half the backyard you and Steve have.”

“We traded indoor space for outdoor space.” Connie said as she grabbed something from the fridge. “Luckily the girls don’t mind sharing a room.”

“If ours decide they want to sleep together, then we’ll have a guest room.” You remarked as you walked over to where Javier was. “There’s plenty of space.”

Javier shifted closer to you, draping his around your shoulders. “It’ll be nice to have something that’s fully ours. I’ve never bought a house before.”

“It’s surreal.” You leaned into him, sighing softly. “Hopefully the owners don’t make us wait much longer. I’d like to be able to move in before I look like a beach ball.”

“You look beautiful,” Javier whispered as he pressed a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear. The way that his breath danced over your skin had goosebumps forming.

If this was how he was going to handle things two could certainly play that game.

You bit down on your bottom lip, tilting your head to look up at him. “You’re sweet, Javi.” You said slowly, tracing your fingertips over the patch of skin where his shirt was unbuttoned. “Go see if Steve needs help with the girls.”

His lips parted, “But—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

Connie had her back turned towards you both as she tended to the skillet on the stove. And you were just bold enough, thanks to him, to slip your hand a little lower. You lightly grazed your fingers over the slight bulge in his jeans.

“Later.” You promised, grinning up at him as you pulled away. “Hey Con, do you need any help?”

“Could you get the cheese out?” She requested. “Do you think it would be best to put it in a bowl? That way everyone can choose how much they want.”

“That sounds like a plan.” You answered as you headed for the fridge.

Javier hadn’t budged from the spot you had left him in and you were fully aware of the fact that he was watching you.

You bent over to get the bad of shredded cheese out of the bottom drawer, knowing that your skirt had risen up the backs of your thighs.

The glass door slid shut harshly as Javier ducked out of the kitchen quickly.

———

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you stepped out of the bathroom and found Javier lingering in the hallway.

“I was waiting for you.” Javier answered before he closed the short distance between the two of you. He pressed you back against the wall.

You pushed your fingers through his hair, looking up at him as your heart hammered in your chest. “You’re full of yourself today.”

“Baby, you’ve been driving me crazy all day.” He dragged his hands over your hips. Javier leaned in and kissed you and you melted from the intensity of it.

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, nipping lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled back. “We can’t do this here, Javi.” You breathed, brushing your nose against his.

“They’re teaching the girls badminton,” Javier whispered, kissing you again. “They’re busy.” He ran his hand along your side. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day, baby.”

“Javier.” You warned softly, even as you dragged your fingers through his hair. “What has gotten into you?”

“That dress is really doing it for me.” Javier told you, sighing heavily as he took a step backwards heeding your warning.

“I wore it all of last summer.” You grinned at him, cocking your head to the side. “What changed?”

He pointed looked downwards at your stomach and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You’re such a man.” Your hands went to your hips as you shook your head at him. “You wouldn’t be this horny if I had on one of those hideous maternity dresses.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You could be dressed in one of those potato sacks and I’d still want you, baby. You look… gorgeous.”

You smiled warmly at him, taking a step towards him. You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat as you leaned up to kiss him again. “You’re such a jackass.” You muttered against his lips as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

Javier’s hands trailed from your waist to your hips as he pressed you up against the wall again. His tongue swept out over your lips as they parted, seeking entrance. His hand slid lower, rough fingers dragging over the smooth skin of your upper thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress.

The sound of the glass door in the kitchen sliding closed jerked you out of the moment. You pushed at his chest gently, slipping out from between him and the wall. While neither Connie nor Steve would be surprised by the two of you making out — you really didn’t want to be that person. As tempting as it was.

You quietly retreated back into the bathroom, pulling the door shut as quietly as possible. You turned the sink on, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed with desire he’d started to stoke within you.

You couldn’t blame him… you did look hot in the dress.

“What are you doing Javi?” Steve questioned from the other side of the door. You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Waiting for her.” Javier answered. “Morning sickness.”

You coughed quietly, before shutting the water off. “It wasn’t the enchiladas!” You called out through the door. “Don’t worry Connie about it.”

“I learned a long time ago not to comment on the cooking,” Steve retorted with a laugh. “I hope you feel better. I just came in to get some water.”

You pulled the door open a crack, “Hey Javi, do you mind coming in here?”

“Sure thing, baby.” Javier stepped inside and smirked once the door closed behind him.

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him, even as your eyes swept over the length of him. It wasn’t fair how easily he could get you wound up. “We’re not doing this here.” Your hands went to your hips, staring him down. “But you are going to take me home. Sooner, rather than later.”

Javier reached out and traced his fingertips over your cheekbone as he leaned in to kiss you. “You’ve given us the perfect excuse to leave early.”

You grinned up at him. “I think fast on my feet.”

“One of the many reasons I love you.” Javier pulled you close and kissed you softly.

“God, you’re such a fucking sap.” You let your arms drape over his shoulders, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re lucky I like this sappy shit most of the time.” You brushed your nose against his, “Take me home, Javi.”

“All I can think about is ripping this dress off of you.”

———

“Is it just the dress that flipped your switch?” You questioned as Javier pulled into the parking spot behind the condo building.

Javier’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “It’s just… you. The dress is just the icing on the cake.”

Your cheeks burned hotly as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Well we don’t have to pick Josie up until eleven tomorrow so…” You looked over the roof of the car at Javier. “I’m tempted to tell you to do your worst.”

“I already planned to.”

“You did attempt to fuck me at the Murphy’s… why am I surprised?” You rolled your eyes, resting your hand on your stomach as you walked around the car to join Javier.

“We had the bathroom to ourselves.”

You shot him a look, “What is it with us and bathrooms?”

He shrugged a shoulder, slipping his hand into yours. “I dunno, baby. But all I’m thinking about right now is getting you into bed.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the specific tone he took. You had once jokingly called it a ‘panty dropper voice’ and… you weren’t mistaken.

It was a sheer miracle that you both managed to get into the condo and back to the bedroom with most of your clothing still on.

Javier was good at making you feel worshipped. He had been the same way when you were pregnant with Josie — the reverent ways that he would stroke your belly, the way he’d kiss you like you were everything.

He always seemed to know exactly when you weren’t feeling particularly confident about your body. For the man he used to be, he was remarkably skilled at being tender.

“This is what set you off, isn’t it?” You questioned as you laid back on the bed and stroked a hand over your still-covered stomach. “What? Does it appeal to your caveman sensibilities?”

Javier climbed onto the bed, carefully situating himself above you so he wasn’t putting pressure on your stomach. “That’s only part of it.” He smirked, sliding his hand over the soft cotton that rested against your stomach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You bit down on your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You reached up and curled your hand around the back of his neck. “You make me feel gorgeous.”

Javier leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, before he trailed a line of kisses down your throat, his tongue sweeping out over your skin.

He moved lower, kissing along your collarbone before he sat back and started to peel your dress up your hips. “You’ve got to wear this again, baby.”

“Trust me. I will.” You laughed softly as you sat up and pulled it off over your head.

Javier climbed off the bed, fumbling with his belt buckle, before he worked his jeans off, followed by his shirt.

He rejoined you on the bed, laying down beside you. “C’mere.” Javier rasped out, his fingers curling around your thigh as he pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his nose brushing against you as his hand slipped between your thighs. “Relax, baby.”

You leaned against him, half fitted into his side as you let your legs fall open for him. He had his other arm curled around you, his palm resting against the curve of your stomach.

You drew in a shaky breath as he brushed his fingers over you through your underwear. He groaned as he discovered just how slick you were. The heated looks he’d been giving you all day had you aching for him.

“Is that all for me?” Javier questioned and you turned your head to kiss him, rather than answer. He drew a tight circle around that little bundle of nerves, making you moan against his mouth.

Your hand trailed down his bare chest, nails gently scraping before you followed the path of hair that led beneath his boxers. You pulled back from the kiss, eyes on his face as you ghosted your hand over the outline of his cock, “Is that for me?” You mimicked his tone.

Javier smirked at you, “What do you think?”

Your lashes fluttered as he slid his fingers under your underwear, working them through your sensitive folds. “I think you better not tease me.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and tore them down your hips. You wiggled to get them off, kicking the fabric down the bed. “I hate to disappoint you, baby. But I plan to take my time with you.”

Your lips parted with a breathy moan as he gave your cunt a swift swat. “Bastard.” You hissed out.

“And you love it.” Javier retorted, pressing two fingers into you and hooking them just right. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, baby?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You should’ve never told him how much you enjoyed it. “Javi, please.”

“Please what?”

You swallowed thickly and tilted your head to look at him. “Don’t stop.”

He drew his hand away from your stomach, fingers playing with your hair. “I won’t.” Javier promised you, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. He pressed his lips against your temple as his thumb circled your clit.

Your hips rocked upwards, your heels digging into the mattress as you reacted to his touch. “Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed out through clenched teeth. You reached down and rested your hand against his cock through his boxers, stroking him slowly. “I’m so close Javi,” You told him, tilting your head lazily to look up at him through your lashes. “Don’t stop.”

And the bastard stopped abruptly.

You keened, hips rocking upwards — chasing after his touch. “Javier.” You snapped, fingers tightening on around his cock. “I told you not to tease me.”

Javier dragged your hand away from his cock, fingers curling around your wrist as he met your gaze with a wry smirk. “I have plans, baby. Don’t worry.” He released his hold on your wrist, reaching up the bed to grab a pillow. He lifted you up and placed the pillow beneath your head, dipping down to kiss you.

You relaxed back against the pillow and watched Javi as he started moving downwards. Your fingers played through his hair as he peppered your skin with kisses, a soft moan rising up in your throat as he ran his hands along your waist in his downwards pursuit. He settled between your thighs.

“Goddamn,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” He questioned, running his hands along your inner thighs. “You’re a mess.”

You lifted your hips up off the bed, rolling them towards him. “I wonder why.” You shot back, glaring down at him, but it was hard to keep a straight face when he leaned forward and swept his tongue over you.

This time, Javier didn’t tease.

———

“It’s surreal to think that this time next month we might be in our new bedroom.” You mused as you intertwined your fingers with Javier’s, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I know.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder, before he ran his hand down your arm and rested it against your stomach. “I’m the fucking luckiest man in the world.”

You laughed, “I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your shoulder. “I did a lot of shit in Colombia that I’m not proud of, baby. And I feel like I shouldn’t get all this good shit because of it.”

“Didn’t we all do things we regret?” You questioned, tilting your head to look at him as you squeezed his hand. “But if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have Josie or Sofía.”

“I know.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Javi.” You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat.

Javier pulled you in close. “I am happy, baby.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m so fucking happy. And sometimes it doesn’t feel real. How good I’ve got it with you.”

“It is.” You promised him, “And I’ll keep telling you how much you deserve all of this if you go make me a grilled cheese and bring me a bowl of ice cream.”

Javier gave your hip a squeeze, “Anything you want, baby.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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memescomicswriting · 5 years

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In the Pursuit of Happiness Ch. 5

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Steve

Warnings/genre: Very Angsty Chapter, a few bad words

Y’all I wrote most of this chapter to Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer and Pompeii by Bastille. You’ve been warned.

Story Masterlist

You woke up incredibly early. To be fair, seven am wasn't early to most of the adult world, but for you it was. Yet you didn't feel tired. You had a strange, almost giddy and childish energy to you. Today, Steve was more than your friend, possibly best friend. He was simply more. After harassing Peter into an early morning workout with you, you were off to start the day. Peter, the cute mess he is, was not ready for sparring. Even extremely holding back, you kicked his little spider butt. You made up for it with the promise of chocolate chip pancakes.

"But can't we skip the green juice this morning?" Peter whined as you made your way to the common kitchen. "Uh, I promised Tony I'd care for you, and if he caught me feeding you junk twenty-four-seven he'd kill me and then proceed to helicopter parent you to his grave." You retorted. You pushed the swing door to the kitchen open and held it for Peter. "Besides, this morning proved to me that you need more of a natural energy boost." "Like you-" Peter stopped mid comeback, freezing, and rebooting like one of his inventions. "Good morning Mr. Captain Sir, and Mr. Bucky." He was flustered but continued to an open seat far away from the buddied grown men. "Hey, guys." You walked in with a collected air to you, despite your internal giddiness. You continued to the cupboards. "I was about to make some pancakes for Peter and I. Want some?" "No thank you-" Steve. "I'd love some-" Bucky. You whipped around to curiously glance between the two. Normally, taking food orders like this held nothing over you, but their estranged looks towards each other threw you for a loop. "Sorry, Yes." Steve. "Nevermind I guess." Bucky. You raised a brow at them both. They looked at each other in frustration. Normally, you could read Steve like a book, but with Bucky back he was acting strange. You had no into their century's worth of intricacies, inside jokes, understandings. It was weird and you didn't like it, but you'd get used to it. Maybe one day you'd be apart of it. "I'll just make a lot and whoever wants them can take them..." The caution in your voice caught their attention. However, you ignored them and made quick work of developing a pancake batter. Peter was engrossed with his phone, Steve with the Journal, and Bucky with the circuits of his arm. You cleared your throat and all three men perked up. "Peter wants chocolate chips. I planned on adding pecans and peaches to mine. Either of you want something else?" "Blueberries!" Bucky happily chirped. The excitement was evident in his voice. "Steve and I can't cook worth a damn. Hate to say it, but this is the first homecooked breakfast I've had in decades." You found his easy confession odd. Apparently, so did Steve. From your understanding, Bucky was the last to share due to his guarded nature. Steve told you that. Yet, Bucky readily shared with you last night. Maybe your closeness to Steve eased his reserve. "Then I'll have to make it extra special." You picked up the conversation before it became an awkward starring match. "Eggs, bacon, potatoes, sausage, the works." Before Bucky could protest, Peter spoke up for you and Steve. "I wouldn't if I were you." Then he went back to his phone. "When she sets her mind to something Buck, you can't change it." That was Steve, settling the debate. You shot him a bold smile. It was the first time you'd directed your gaze solely to him this morning. He squirmed under it which you found disheartening. "Did you want anything different?" You asked with a soft, hurt voice. His voice was soft. "No, what you're making is fine." There was something behind his eyes that you couldn't quite place. You were so confused. After months of pining, you'd said yes to him. Shouldn't he have the same electric energy as you? Breakfast passed quickly. It'd been a while since you cooked in this kitchen. Even longer since you cooked this much. Your other teammates came and went, taking the food that enticed them into the kitchen. Eventually, Bucky left and Peter followed after eyeing up Steve. Despite Peter's fear and intimidation, he cared more for you more than he worried what Steve thought of him. You promised him you hadn't forgotten to call your director friend at MIT, as a reminder that Peter and Ned were coming for their all-access tour. You had connections. Steve stood up to make his exit but your voice commanded him to stop. "Steve?" It was gentle but powerful. You could make yourself heard when you wanted to. He turned to face you, maybe nervous. He was the opposite of how you left him the previous night. "Y/N." Maybe it was the nerves or hurt that quickly flashed in a blaze of emotions over your face, but Steve turned to fully face you. He even took a step towards you. "Yes?" "Did- did something happen? Or are you upset at something? Maybe I'm overreading things, but I can tell when you're off..." You trailed off, refusing to look at him. If you had, you would've seen the hurt that crossed his face like it had traveled from you to him. "No, not at all!" It was a hasty correction. "Guess I'm just nervous." You looked up to find him sporting a fragile smile and he shrugged. Relief instantly pooled through you. "Oh." You returned his smile. "Um, so what time are we going out tonight, and what should I wear?" Steve opened his mouth to answer your question. At least that's what you thought. Then he quickly pressed his lips together and ticked his jaw. "Eight." He replied firmly. "And dress nice." You reached out and took his hand. You hoped it was simple nerves that overtook him. His stern voice reminded you of the Captain. You'd seen him switch into that role when he was uncomfortable. Steve froze, unresponsive. You placed his hand on your waist and stepped into him. He shifted, softened. "I do want this to work." You kissed his cheek and then walked passed him. He was left dumbfounded by your actions. -- Despite Peter's attempts to drag you with him to MIT, out of obvious disapproval, you managed to pass the afternoon with peaceful work and some much-needed rest before your date with Steve. After an hour of primping, worrying, scrubbing with soaps scented by lavender and bayberry, and everything else you moved on to makeup. You chose a simple look tonight, elegant and beautiful. You only enhanced your natural features. Steve always commented on how beautiful you looked when you did your makeup that way. You followed his directions and dressed nice. You picked out a caesious colored satin cocktail dress. It sinched your upper body like a corset but skirted below your waist. It stopped at your knee. It was the perfect combination of drawl and grace to match your subtle sexiness. Your hair was placed into gentle waves, with one side pinned back across your shoulder like a drape. You knew you looked stunning. Steve knocked on your door at exactly eight like you knew he would. You swung the door open to reveal yourself to him. You were closer to his height in your suede heels. Steve made an audible gasp. You'd heard it before, but tonight you were sure it was directed at you. He was in a tailored pair of blue slacks and a blazer. Under it, he had a patterned button-up shirt, but no tie. You looked stunning together. If you hadn't taken Steve's hand in yours and led him down the hallway you might have stood there with a dumbstruck Steve the entire night. Halfway down the elevator ride, he regained some of his composure. "You look gorgeous." He mumbled softly. You grinned. "So do you." The drive into the city was long and silent despite your efforts. Fifteen minutes into the thirty-minute drive you gave up on attempts to make conversation. When you arrived at your destination- a fancy restaurant called Sage, it was no different. You tried for conversation and you received polite but short replies. You tried to hide your disappoint the entire night, but you knew it slipped. You could see it when Steve reacted in defeat. You kissed his cheek as you said goodnight. He dropped you off at your door. Silent dismay lingered between you two. Yet, you told him that you had a great time and couldn't wait to do it again. You both knew if the date had gone well you would've continued it by changing into comfortable clothes and watching a movie together. Every 'friend outing' before ended that way. This date didn't. The next day awkward glances and silence followed you two everywhere you ran into each other. You both tried to prevent that from happening. Whenever someone asked how your date went, you lied and gushed over the fantasy you hoped it would have been. You were lying to all your teammates, even Peter. You did it so well everyone believed you. You were trained by Sheild to be a top spy, of course, your acting skills were great enough to trick even earth's mightiest. Days passed and you questioned Steve about your next date. He seemed startled by your question. That hurt you. He informed you about a flyer he'd seen for a hotel's five-course dinner for two. You said it sounded nice. He said he'd pick you up at eight again. That date went as well as the first. It became harder to hide your disappointment from your teammates with every failed date. Five failed dates passed. You planned on being head over heals by date five. You expected butterflies and nervous kisses that lingered into needy makeout sessions. You expected your friend Steve Rogers with the heat of your past flings. Instead, you received a dull, impersonal, and distant companion. Something was wrong. He was wrong. This was wrong. His reluctance was wrong. You wanted to know why. You stormed into his room, a month after he first asked you out. It was a rare occurrence where neither Peter nor Bucky lingered around your wing of the compound. You took the opportunity. "We need to talk." You declared. Steve jumped from his work desk where he'd been reviewing papers on the recent uptick in organized global crime. "Y/N." He wasn't angry but slightly startled and maybe nervous. "What about?" "The elephant in the room." You stated bluntly. When he continued to blankly stare at you with no recognition behind his eyes you clarified for him. "Our five failed dates." He couldn't have deniability now. His demeanor shifted with acceptance and disappointment. "Yeah, I know..." He tried to hide his eyes from you, looking away, turning his head but you refused to allow him to escape. You gripped his jaw and made him face you. "You wanted this. I tried. I gave you everything I could and you- your acting like a whole different man from the night you asked me. What the hell did I do to deserve this? I can't live with this storm cloud over you and me." Steve's eyes set on you and they shifted from wandering in dispute to fixated and darkening. Yet he held himself back, like always. You hated that quality in him. It was harder to take him halfheartedly than fully with the good and the bad. "I did want this." He retorted. 'Did' rang through your mind. 'Did' was past tense. It was in the past. "Maybe you didn't know me as you thought." His voice was monotone but he might as well have spat it at you. It hurt in that way. You needed to be strong. "What does that mean?" Yet you were caving like an ill-supported wall. Steve never talked to you in this way and it made you crumble. "It's like you said." He continued. "You tried by giving everything you could. I guess it wasn't enough." What was this? Why was he being this mean and cold? You clenched your fists. He wouldn't see you break here if that's what he wanted. You'd fight for your clarity, so you'd know you did everything you could. "That's bullshit and you know it." You loomed over him, aggressive. Agitation was written across his face as you neared a line you rarely crossed. "That night, my bare minimum was more than enough for you and you were enough for me. Your lack of effort is what's not enough." Electricity danced behind you. Your energy was rising, but so was his. He shot up and a twinge of panic coursed through you. You crossed that line and you didn't know what would happen next. But it needed to be done. His frame blocked out the light coming from the window. His shadow swallowed you. "Months of waiting for a girl who doesn't want you, to come around isn't a lack of effort. It's more than what's deserved." Your heart broke with his words. It was strangled between his harsh tone and what he meant. He deserved more than what you gave. All the fears you tried to overcome in those three months battered you. "I left because I knew I couldn't be what you deserved." You were meek now. You'd abandoned your previous strength and determination for the hurt you felt. You refused to look at Steve. Maybe he softened as his tone suggested. Maybe he was simply quieter, but what he said next wasn't pointed. "You just didn't know how to love me as more than a friend." "What?" Your head shot up. Those words were too familiar. They were your words, and it clicked. Bucky. That night when Steve kissed you and didn't return; he and Bucky were discussing you, not some nightmare. "Oh, Steve..." You began, but he waved you off. "I get it. You tried for my sake, but this isn't what you wanted. Being with you in this way isn't what I wanted." He walked over to his door and opened it for you. Reluctantly, you followed. "There's no bad blood between us, Y/N, but it can't go back to how it was. It never could. You need someone who can make you happy and I need to get over you." You stared in disbelief, open-mouthed. "Steve..." His pleading eyes silenced you. "Let me go, Y/N. Do that for me. Let me go." He slowly closed the door and you didn't protest. Mysteriously, your feet moved with a mind of their own, taking you back to your room. Your body shifted into autopilot as your brain began its inward collapse. Once inside your bedroom, you shut and locked your door. Silent tears slipped down your checks as you slid down your door. You sat there until the light pouring into your room changed from the sun's rays to the moon's glow. You curled your legs to your chest, head buried in your lap until you could cry no more. Then you got up and went to bed.

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A/N: Chapter 5! Y’all. this one was a heartbreak to write but it concludes phase one of the story! Let me know what you think about this fic so far. My asks and messages are open!

Reblog if you liked it!!!

What did you think of Y/N’s words being used against her like that? Should she or Steve fought harder for the relationship? What doors will open with this one closing? Are they done forever?

Also, let me know if you think I should share the songs I use to write my chapters!

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