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wandagcre · 4 months

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under your spell | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

Samantha Loomis will do everything to keep the journey of your love story with her floating, come what may. Even if it takes killing an important figure in your life, she won't risk it.

WARNING: dom!mob boss sam, sub!reader, manipulation, graphic depiction of violence, strap-on sex, teasing, 69 - not proofread | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.5k Note: more of mob boss sam! this was requested by one of my favs, @romanoffsbish! hope i did justice with this one ahhh🫣

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You lost count of how many times you tossed and turned in the bed. It’s particularly lonesome even while you’re enveloped in the comfiest mattress and sheets of layers that provide much-needed warmth. You craved Sam by your side.

It was unimaginable how you didn’t want to be in this bed almost a year ago.

Now, it was nothing but an embarrassing fact as to how your body and mind depended on the woman. You yearned for her touch; her chin perched against your shoulder as her strong arms wrapped around you protectively and how you heard Sam’s light snores that oddly brought comfort rather than a nuisance. In your comfort lies the much-needed presence of the woman.

The thought raised concern for you, as usually, Sam wouldn’t waste any time to join you here.

Having enough time alone, you got up quickly took your robe, and sauntered your way to Sam’s office. You’re immediately relieved that you put on a robe, covering your sheer nightgown underneath. You just saw some of Sam’s men patrolling outside the house as you passed through the wide halls, one of them nodding in acknowledgment as they saw you through the sliding door. The last time someone saw you vulnerable…it did not end well.

You rub your arms for warmth. Entering Sam’s office at your home was an experience. You’ve been here only a few times, understanding that the woman needed her own space – even if that concept felt foreign for the two of you. Pushing one of the two doors, the intimidating air welcomed you. The high ceiling, and the modestly tiered chandelier hued her lair. It was as grandiose as it can get; with the pillars and currently enclosed European rolling shutters, layers that provided extended privacy. If it weren’t for her chandelier and lamps in the room, it would be a total blackout as light did not stand a chance.

Whether it was out of Sam’s paranoia or extra precaution of safety, you love her just the same.

When you carefully made your way through her to the U-shaped table, Sam didn't say much, but you figured she knew it was you already. She’s pensive and painstakingly occupied with the files on her hand.

“Mi amor, come over here…” Your heart soared at her tiny voice.

Sam welcomes your touch with ease. Like a reflex; she freed one of her busy hands to clasp it with yours that hugged her front. Yet, it was her mind that was drifting.

“I miss you, come to bed.” You murmured and felt her soft laughter vibrate against your body.

You ignite a familiar glint in Sam’s eyes. “I like the sound of that. Domestic. Married.” She turns the paper with a faint smile.

In closer view, you have the sight of Sam in her trousers and importantly, her cufflinks and blue button-down undone, hugging her from behind. You take advantage of the proximity, breathing in Sam’s scent which is mixed city dirt and a particular musk that you love, heightening your serotonin. You can’t help but wet your lips with the thoughts you’re being wrapped into.

“Hm. Well, your wife needs attention now.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor.”

“Hey. I knew what I signed up for, Sammy.” A fracture of it, your mind quips. Not that you minded. It blows over quickly as Sam hums. “Nothing that a few kisses can’t solve. You can start by downplaying them now…”

Your sultry words didn’t fly over her.

She indulges your play immediately. “And you’re charging this with interest, I suppose?” Sam can feel your devious fingers dancing on the expanse of her toned stomach, skipping over the material of her work clothes. The air rapidly thickened with the brewing hunger and tension, rousing both of you into a familiar pit of lust.

Sam’s back still is facing you, momentarily pulling away to unbutton her top.

“Very much so I’m afraid.” You lazily murmured against your girlfriend’s back as you jumped back near her. Sam feels herself grounded towards reality, her icy exterior melting. You feel Sam’s tense muscles wearing off. A faint smile comes over you. How do you even do that? Sam wonders each time. “What are you even worrying about? Your beautiful eyebrows are bunched up like a grandma.”

Sam swiftly turned. Her kisses soon trailed over your jaw and lips, insistent.

“I need to pay up first, amor.”

“But Sammy—Oh!”

Sam deflects. Although you noticed, it was hard to be devoid of her wishes as you did not have a choice but to take in her little yet adamant pecks. Soon, it grew into seemingly aggressive and bruising kisses. She tasted a hint of whiskey, burning on your tongue. Letting out a gasp wasn’t too good either as Sam took it as her chance to kiss you harder and swallow your moans. She lifts you to have you sprawled out on her oak table, determined to stir a carnal disarray. With each tilt and lean, the bites and growls that Sam released onto you had made your brain all muddled. You caress her firm shoulder and decide to pay back; you give her breast an adamant squeeze through her sports bra.

Sam pulls back and her matching gold accessories shine from your view. God, she looked beautiful – almost forbidden. Her shiny, half-lidded eyes peer over you lustfully and mischievous.

“M-mm, you’re so good for me… I had something in mind, would you excuse me for a second mi amor?”

You teasingly ran your fingers through her nape and undid her tied-up hair, letting her alluring black tresses cascade messily, and tugged her hair back for good measure. Sam gulped at your assertiveness, gripping your hips firmly.

“I won’t go anywhere but here.”

As Sam came to fetch a spice to spruce up your evening, you gratefully absorbed the time she gave you. She can be an intense lover who knocks the air out of your lungs without fail. Your eyes flit over the mess sitting atop her desk. The sepia-colored portfolios were noticeable, strung up neatly. Her Glock particularly stood out with its metallic shine that made your heart race in nervousness. The daydreams can be hot, sure, yet if you were to be frank; you’re still taking in this new life one day at a time.

Until you saw another notable profile related to you.

It struck a personal vein as it was none other than your beloved partner and coworker for years, only her papers were marked “CLOSED” with a bright, red stamp across her personal description and profile shot. Your stomach churned at the possibility of her in danger. She was the closest figure you had for a mother. Although a part of you feels worthy of the success you have now, you can’t help but also think you have grown selfish and self-centered.

The last time you talked to her was 2 months ago, her birthday. A bittersweet smile spread across your features. You even kept postponing a simple brunch date with her – one that you didn’t have trouble with, until… no.

What’s wrong with you?

It’s not like she also reached out to you. You wonder what Grace thought of your Sam. She appeared skeptical, though you brushed it off knowing that what you and Sam have are unique. Perhaps you left out a few minor details that made her disapprove of it – detecting easily when you’re secretive about things. You didn’t find the point to it, though. You, among all people, were the most aware of you and Sam being from two worlds that happened to collide. But you insisted that it works; both of you put effort and love into it.

Sam is your person.

A hand rubs comfortingly on your shoulder. “Mi amor, are you okay?”

“Sammy, why do you have these files? What does Grace have to do with your business?” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Is she… okay?” The apprehension coursed through your veins unsettlingly.

You’re not even sure if you were ready to hear the truth.

With shaky hands, you gather the papers and examine them. Reading them made the coldness eerily vivid as though you’re holding a decomposing body, as though Grace that you once knew was now nothing but a closed history. Your vision blurred as your eyes trail over the personal information. Not one has registered in your mind.

Meanwhile, Sam carefully examined your reactions, silent as you soaked up the files that appeared to rattle you. Lost in your bewildered thoughts, you didn’t even notice the tanned woman’s presence until she gently took your forearm and her lips were pressed against your wrist.

“You won’t be seeing her anymore. Would you like me to elaborate?”

Fuck, you sure hope so. “Sam. This– this doesn’t look good to me,” Your voice cracked at the end and your eyes were starting to well up. Your figure moved in discomfort.

“You’re right.” Sam sighed and threaded her fingers through her hair. “It does not look good… but for all right reasons. Can you lay your back on the desk?” You tilt your head inquisitively, yet following Sam made her appeased with your actions.

“O-okay,”

She hooked her hands around your legs, making your lower back pressed on the oak table. The robe you wore slid off, but you didn’t mind — Sam did not mind.

“Good girl.” Sam praised you with her honeyed voice. You felt the familiar desire stir in your stomach. However, it did not stop you from staring – waiting – at those plump lips to further elaborate. “She’s gone.”

It expeditiously induced a sharp pain in your chest. Grace is gone – echoed faintly in your head. Your heart and mind throbbed at the sudden news.

Despite Sam’s monotonous tone, you’re unable to dissect the emotion further as you feel Sam lock your lips into a titillating kiss, her body atop you. A tear rolled down your cheek, Sam did not mind, hurriedly swiping them away with her thumb. Your mind ebbs slowly of its previous worries, tangled in the woman’s skillful touch; latched onto your skin with greed that appeases both of your needs. It confused you greatly, while as despair filled you, you were also throbbing, your cunt aroused again and wanting for more.

“My men bagged her head with a canvas, almost suffocating her.” You helplessly groan as Sam places a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t speak at her firm hold. “But don’t worry, she passed swiftly… least as I could let her be. She was interfering with us, mi amor. I hope you do understand – I’m doing this for us. I haven’t failed you yet, have I?”

You only nod weakly. It was the truth; she didn’t disappoint at all. Your body was still in fight mode and attempted to relieve it by desperately clawing on your girlfriend’s tanned bare back – searching for something tangible. Your fingernails dug into them and rewarded you with Sam’s breathy moans, swallowing the lump in your throat. On the other end, Sam was relieved by your response. No matter how it was laced with sugar coating, she still fears that you will never meet each other by the eye.

“I can’t hurt you, ever. You know that I wouldn’t do something bad when it comes to you, (y/n/n).”

She’s real and you’ll be alright… your girlfriend always had a good reason for her decisions, right?

Sam’s carnal ways did not waver; instead, you hear the rustling of her trousers and how she unzipped them. You didn’t even notice how she smoothly set your underwear aside, your wet pussy exposed to the cold air that made you quiver as Sam was ready to plunge in the tip of her strap.

“The things you do to me, amor, fuck!” Sam uttered gruffly as she parted your folds, the action impenitent and dirty. Her thumb probes over your wet insides, resulting in your breathing growing erratic and your head being thrown back, as she didn't hesitate to put a few inches on you unannounced. “I had fun playing Russian roulette with your dearest Grace. I can hear her terror each time my revolver clicked. If only I had the reins to get messy, I would have gutted her stomach apart until her insides spilled!” She punctuates the anguish in her tone by pounding in you harder, rocking both of you and the entire length of the strap almost inside of you.

The squelching and the slapping of skins reverberated in her room. You felt dirty and guilty, knowing it was the place where parts of Sam’s empire were laid tactfully. Though, you fucking loved every second of it. It felt that it was a Cathedral and all you knew was to worship and moan Sam’s name — until every fiber of your being occupied nothing but her.

Your ragged breathing and continuous moans were interrupted with Sam grabbing you by the cheek again. Her brown eyes were pierced into your drunk ones. “I love you. Nothing’s going to wreck that. Not even the slightest.”

This was a real woman in front of you, unashamed to tell the tales of how far she was willing to go for you. You never had that in your life – until her, your Sammy. So, you gratefully nod, your heart felt as though it was going to burst in hopes that your eyes could convey how the feeling was mutual.

It should be disgusting but you can’t help but gush more at the stretch even while in Sam’s morbid monologue. “And I’m here, fucking you with my cock senselessly. Do you like being put in this situation? You have no shame, amor. That’s why we fit perfectly,” She grabbed you by your jaw, “Answer me.”

“Y-yes! Fuck, yes!” You wail as the phallic inside of you feels too vivid against your walls. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head. The shame burned your insides but oh so satisfyingly. “I-I love it!”

“You do, don’t you? This is what you deserve. Goodness and me. Your partner didn’t even cry out for you, they cried out for Marly, the bitch from work that they cheated on you with. Don’t worry mi amor, I’ll gut her next for ever hurting you like this…” The huff and panting of Sam’s eagerness had overpowered the internal dilemma growing out of you. It cemented your mind on one thing; you were hurt, but Sam has once again swooped in to rescue you.

Marly was soon history as Grace was. You couldn’t believe your mother figure had disposed of you just the same.

“You’re always there for m-me… ‘could never doubt you, Sammy,” You choked in moans and felt Sam’s breath ghost to your bare neck. “I-I love you,”

Reeling back to full pleasure, you’ve easily taken it in, both Sam’s strap and the new life you were in. You might as well accept it – take it wholly – no matter how much red is drowned in Sam’s ledger. And Sam? The macabre beast melded inside of her and groaned in satisfaction. Your robe was halfway off, the nightgown almost ripped in half, revealing your skin and breasts that were painted with deep red and purple hues, as you’ve braved through a storm. More importantly, you took her with almost no hesitance and your pretty lips affirmed how much you loved her, even with Sam admitting her sick ways of keeping you both safe.

It made her feel worthy and on top of the fucking world. All of the blood and gruesome journey she has gone through — it was all for you and so, so worth it.

You wail underneath Sam’s relentless pounding that fueled her to thrust in varying angles to make your mind all fuzzy. You feel everything and then nothing all at once, completely spent as your orgasm crashed — the strap still buried inside of you. You were certain that Sam wanted it molded on your velvety walls until all it knew was her.

In your drifting-off state, Sam gently pulls back the robe on you and picks you up, carrying you against her front. You’re perched against the crook of her neck and you want to giggle at her sidestepping, the bodyguards looking away from your sight as Sam is careful to not reveal your current state. It was proving to be a challenge not to moan and simply fuck yourself against the strap, as for some reason Sam kept it in.

You thought it was the end as your girlfriend placed you on your shared bed until Sam fully unbuckled her then loose belt, and her trousers pool by her ankle. She’s bare for you, her blemishes and scars were open to you, and somewhat they made an appetizing touch to her perfectly carved body. Now you feel the familiar throbbing rising on your tummy once again and your thighs spasmed at the light strain it encountered from earlier activities. Sam deviously chuckled at your reaction and crawled her way on top of you.

“I wanted to return the favor…” You whispered against the shell of Sam’s ear, hands busying themselves on undoing the strap laced on her waist. “I need to have you in my mouth.”

Sam’s stomach visibly twitched at your words, her throat drying up at how they dripped with much desire, just for her.

“Funny, because I was planning to eat you, too.” A tender kiss was pressed against your lips. Sam moved teasingly as her words did, affecting you greatly.

“We can do it at the same time, you know…”

Sam’s heart constricted at your suggestion. She would be stupid if she were to turn down your offer. Imagining you between her thighs and putting all of her will not to suffocate you? Sam grew wet. She twitched like a junky in need of a fix and her orbs were glazed with excitement and tenfold desire. Perhaps, Sam was rubbing off on you too much these days.

“Fuck, you mean—?”

You timidly nod. “Yes. It’s a win-win situation for us, Sammy.”

You strip out of your useless clothes quickly. There was no use for it. Sam watches you as if she were hypnotized. How this woman has a nonstop carnal desire to take you at every moment possible was lost on you.

Getting into position was inevitably awkward. It was a new thing, both of you were testing the waters. But given Sam’s words of encouragement, the intimidation soon dissolved and it made you communicate better. In reverse positions, you were met with Sam’s long and toned thighs. Having the strong inner skin wrapped between your head was a daydream much as her face. You can smell her arousal vividly – one that was caused by none other than you – which had made pride surge wildly in your chest. Sam easily slid and handled your body towards her face.

“You’re so wet…” Sam whispered as she peppered your thighs with soft kisses. Each contact had left you squirming and frenzy for more. “My pretty girl, have you imagined this for so long?”

You were too shy to admit it.

Although it was very telling on Sam’s end, seeing your slick smeared. Her mouth watered. Soon it will be all over her face. She grabbed the back of your thighs and eagerly lapped on your wet folds, your cries of pleasure served as wonderful stimulation against her exposed cunt. Her tongue flattened up for good measure, Sam slid perfectly against you. Opposed to her confident moves, your movement was gentle and slow, as though you wanted to savor all of Sam’s fluids. This made your rhythm against hers messy and uncoordinated, but it was you so she didn’t mind.

Your cheeks were heated not only out of disbelief that this was happening, but also from the warmth that Sam emits – somehow that makes you flustered. While you’re lost in the haze of lust, Sam tries to be gentle with her thigh grip. However, as it grows tense and firm, it seemingly pulls out a moan from you that makes Sam weak in her knees.

You feel the tip of her tongue dip inside, as though Sam is curious to extract more – savoring the flavor on her tastebuds. The repeated motions continue with the relentless lapping of her tongue, muscle invasive and fast, almost slurping between. It was addicting, like seeing red, only with Sam’s stimulation and breath existing to reel you in further. You keep up and mimic her actions and soon you two find the groove, moving and grinding on each other’s body – mouths barely detaching from the waterfall of wetness. As happiness is meant to be consumed, you do it with such bliss, eyes closed.

Soon, both of you convulsed at the rush of release. Hurriedly, you lapped on Sam’s cum like it was the last thing you’ll ever drink. Sam was more brutal, and practically buried herself in your pussy until you had to push her away. Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, both cunts were tender and as Sam did, your breath was heaving as well. A sheer sweat covered both of your bodies. Fuck, you can’t believe you’ve just done that.

This was fucking heaven.

Sam was the first to get up. You were spent and your clothes were gone, meant for replacement again. She giggled at your adorable sight, a chaste kiss laced with strong remnants of your taste greeted your mouth – ending it with you in her arms, lulled by Sam's heartbeat against your bare chest, and open-mouthed kisses on your tired jaw.

A triumphant smile makes its way to her devious features and whispers I love you against your forehead.

She has done it again. You barely knew what rattled you moments earlier, instead, your mind was filled with the woman and how you can’t live without her.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #wlw #lesbian #fanfic #au #scream vi #requested #sam carpenter x reader

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myfictionaldreams · 9 months

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Everyone Is Breakable // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamory, threesome (F/M/M), angst, fluff, anxiety, death scare, Bucky goes missing, feelings realised, kissing, oral (F & M receiving), handjob, gay sex, vagina sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, size difference, sir kink, creampie, begging, edging, everyone has sex together (finally), not beta read

Words: 7.2k

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Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes were invincible.

Well, they were in your opinion anyway.

For the years that you’d been dating the two of them, they had done feats that were seen to be impossible to the normal person. But then again, they weren’t exactly normal.

There were secrets and rumours throughout Brooklyn that helped to create notorious reputations for the Rogers Mafia’s boss and Deputy that left people scared and yet curious at the same time. The main rumour that was derived from the truth was that Steve and Bucky had been involved in barbaric and ruthless experiments that altered their DNA’s to become the ultimate weapons. Stronger, faster, agility and stamina were all affected and had the enemies running in fear with the inhuman feats that could be achieved. Whenever the two of them were confronted and questioned, the men simply shrug their broad shoulders and smirked arrogantly at the opposer.

The rumours and intimidation only increased with the looming fear of Bucky’s unique metal arm that was made from the world’s strongest metal and liked to be his first weapon used where threats were involved. The enemies were quick to retreat when his leather glove was removed and his fingers clenched into a fist.

Their reputation was not the only reason why you believed them to be invincible but also because as of yet, there had never been a reason to be remotely frightened for their safety. Aside from the swaggering confidence they lived and breathed on a daily basis, other than the busted knuckles from the punishments delivered to the people who deserved it, they had never been injured, not even a black eye or busted nose. Nothing.

They were both so highly trained from their time in the military that they were able to hold their own more significantly than the other people in the same line of work as them.

In the past, there had been injuries and near-death experiences by both Steve and Bucky, before, during and after the military and enough to leave daunting silver scars from stab wounds, gunshots or injuries from other weapons. Especially Bucky and losing his arm during his capture within Hydra, the thick scars that encompassed the area between his shoulder and metal joining, he could hardly even discuss the brutal events that led to his arm injury, not without falling into a headspace that left him worried for everyone's wellbeing but again, that was because of Hydra and the fucked up experiments they performed on him.

Regardless of this, the rest of the events of near-death experiences would have left any normal person to lose their life, but not Steve and Bucky. They always bounced back, leaving you and your relationship feeling secure, safe and never-ending.

One day, one of them was not safe, and life was threatened so you didn’t know if they were alive or dead.

It was supposed to be a simple visit for Bucky, so simple in fact that he had decided to go by himself, leaving his bodyguard Natasha behind to look after Steve as he remained behind at the office. This was where you also remained with your guard Sam, sitting at the oak table, large enough to sit 10 people and usually reserved for important meetings but today had papers and laptops lazily scattered across as orders were processed. Unphased and unbothered, Bucky left with a quick wave and kiss on the cheek for you as he visited a client unaffectionately nicknamed Ross the Coward, for some undelivered money.

From your right, Steve watched Bucky closely as he left, fingers drumming on the surface of the table as he contemplated letting Bucky go by himself but the second in command was all smiles and confidence as he left to the meeting point. As soon as the office door closed, you were swift with unlocking your phone and clicking on the ‘find my friends’ app, watching the blue dot that represented Bucky’s location closely, a habit that everyone within the gang seemed to do to follow each other's locations and last whereabouts if anything were to go wrong.

From the corner of your eye, Steve also monitored the screen as well whilst continuing with the monotonous choirs of running a mafia gang by responding to queries and emails. It had been a long day for all of you, the type of boring work that had your eyelids heavy and body drained without so much as lifting a finger. Bucky had been almost bouncing off of the walls with boredom and when the opportunity to meet with Ross was discussed, he almost ran from the room in eagerness.

“He’s arrived”, you audibly confirmed to the group as Bucky’s dot slowed to a halt in a back alley somewhere in Brooklyn. Steve physically shuffled closer, his chair creaking under his heavy muscles as his arm slide around your back and rested against your hip, so he could move closer and watch the phone for a couple of minutes over your shoulder but soon became preoccupied by the bare skin exposed in front of him. You knew he was trying to distract you from obsessively watching Bucky’s dot as his lips danced across your sensitive skin, the fine hairs on your arms standing on end as a shiver brushed over your body as he reached behind your ear.

Your eyes closed to concentrate on the delicate touches of his full lips and the light scratch of his stubble but the pleasured moan that was teasing to escape on the tip of your tongue was soon replaced by a frustrated groan as Steve’s phone began to vibrate. The blonde gave an apologetic peck on your shoulder before returning his body to the work he was doing and your eyes continued to momentarily glance at Bucky’s location.

Half an hour passed and Bucky’s location hadn’t shifted, even by a single step the entire time. An unsettled heaviness rested in your stomach, but you tried to shake it off, Bucky was fine, it was only 30 minutes. However, those minutes ticked by and turned into an hour, by which point you were anxiously chewing on the skin surrounding your thumbnail which caught the eye of Steve.

Hanging up the phone, he turned his chair back towards you, knees knocking into yours as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist to ease the thumb from your mouth, “what is it?”

Nodding your head towards your phone you explained, “Bucky’s dot hasn’t moved in over an hour”.

Steve’s crystal blue eyes snapped to the phone at a sickening speed, the grip on your hand tightening by the slightest amount of force, not enough to hurt but enough to show his worries. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice low as leaned closer to the phone, studying the location.

“Yes, I’m sure”, you confirmed, trying to ignore the way your throat felt as if it was closing as you noticed Sam and Natasha now taking note of the situation as well. “It’s not moved at all, not even to show him pacing, I’ve used the app enough to know that it moves as you’re walking”.

Steve’s jaw clenched beneath his beard as lines formed between his eyebrows as they furrowed trying to decide the next steps. Releasing your hands, he turned towards Natasha, opening his mouth to order her to go to the location and see what was happening but the red-haired woman was already standing from her chair, shrugging on his leather jacket and confidently strutting towards the door, “Already on it, Boss”.

Steve tried to remain calm, for your sake anyway but you could tell but the ever so slight twitch of his hand that now rested on your exposed thigh, that he was unnerved by the situation. Sam had also tried to help your nerve by distracting you by making you laugh which worked for a whole minute before you returned to wringing your fingers in your lap, a movement that you usually did when nervous. “It’ll be ok Boss Lady, Bucky’s a big boy, he’ll be ok”.

Even with the heavy weight of Steve’s hand, your leg couldn’t keep still as you had the overwhelming urge to bounce your knee up and down to try and release some pent-up energy. Watching the phone closely, the dot that represented Natasha approached Bucky’s location and only then did his dot begins to move before Steve’s phone rang with Natasha's face and name appearing on the screen.

“He’s not here, his phone was in a trash can”, Natasha informed as Steve placed the phone on speaker so you could all hear.

You were out of your seat before either Steve or Sam. However, just as swiftly as you’d made it to your feet, a rough hand was just as quick to grasp your wrist in a gentle but firm hold, halting your plan to rush to the door. Frowning with a glare, you turned to look at Steve as he stood, not releasing your wrist. The expression on his face had your glare faltering as he looked at you in the way that you liked to call ‘Work Steve’. Jaw clenched and set, lines etched around his eyes with sternness and lips thinned into a tight line.

“You’re staying here”, Steve demanded without leaving any time to argue. No laughter or love in his voice like he usually reserved for when he spoke to you. There was only a strict command that was not meant to be argued against but you were simply not in the mood to sit around waiting for news, feeling unhelpful.

“Absolutely not, I’m coming with you”, your tone attempted to sound as stern as his but your voice wavered with the increasingly nauseating sensation blooming in your stomach.

Steve finally dropped your wrist but that was only because he had forced his chair back and was walking over to his desk at the furthest away point in the room, shoulders broad and muscles straining beneath the tight white shirt as he began to strap his guns to multiple locations across his body. As you watched Steve dismiss you without a single word, your hands began to shake with the adrenaline pounding through your body, and taking lesson than a second to decide between dealing with his wrath or continuing with your plan to help find where Bucky had gone.

You were halfway across the room before Steve suddenly shouted, “Sam!”, without even looking over his shoulders, his enhanced hearing meaning that he heard your footsteps rushing across the room. Your friend and bodyguard stepped into your line of sight at Steve’s command, his hands raised, palms facing you in an apologetic stance.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s go back to our seat, I’ll get you a coffee or something-”. Without waiting for him to finish the sentence, you efficiently ducked under his arm and continued on your journey.

“I’m not waiting here, neither of you can stop me”. This was very much untrue as Sam’s arm circled your waist and easily trapped your arms to your side in the process as he overpowered you easily. “Sam, get off me!”

“I’m sorry, but orders are orders”, Sam to his credit, did sound apologetic as he held you firmly to his chest. This didn’t stop you from trying to wiggle your way out of his arms, even when it began to hurt with the amount of force you were putting into it, especially as Steve walked in front of you, now wearing his jacket to hide the multiple weapons he had strapped to his shirt.

“Steve please don’t go without me, I want to help! I need to help find him, please let me come with you!”

Your boyfriend had the decency to at least soften his eyes as he gripped your jaw firmly to keep you from moving and hold your attention. His voice was low and steady as he addressed you, his head dipped to try and hold your eye contact. “You will stay here, safe with Sam. I will go and find Bucky and I’m taking everyone with me to search for him and if we find-”. Steve’s confidence faltered enough that he had to shake his head to try and compose himself, returning to the same stern expression. “We will find him, I promise”. With that, he lowered his lips down to gently kiss your temple, breathing in the comforting scents of shampoo, before turning away.

A thousand thoughts were spirling through your mind as Steve turned away from you. Bucky was missing and without his phone. He could be hurt… or worse than hurt and now you had to stand there and watch as Steve went to the same location, leaving you behind to do nothing.

You began to fight harder against Sam’s hold, not caring that it might bruise your arms as you thrashed and twisted your body in an attempt to get free, needing to be there, hating the thought of waiting around helplessly. “Steve!” you shouted enough that it echoed around the room, please don’t leave me here!”

Your boyfriend didn’t acknowledge your pleas as he continued towards the door, shoulders hunched and heavy with worry and the need for vengeance seething through his boiling blood. Lifting his hand to turn the door handle, he was shocked as it twisted before he could even touch it, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun clasped to the holster on his belt as the door opened with a burst.

A dishevelled Bucky rushed into the room having heard your shouts from the end of the corridor, his chest rising and falling with hurried breaths, his jacked was ripped revealing his crisp white shirt to be stained with deep red blood that also crusted over the knuckles on both of his hands. “What’s going on?” he demanded, eyes darting wide and vividly blue as he took in the scene before him of Sam holding you back as tears had begun to flow down your cheeks.

“Bucky!” you screamed in relief, heavily tugging yourself out of Sam’s hold which loosened enough that you fell forward, stumbling slightly before brushing past Steve and into the arms of Bucky who was still confused as to what was going on. Your trembling hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck as you cried into his shoulders, heart thumping hard in your chest as you felt his arms hug you close.” You’re ok! Thank god you’re ok”.

“What’s wrong? What is it? What the fuck is happening in here?” Bucky frantically asked in confusion, attempting to pull back from the bone-crushing hug so that he could inspect your face but you continued to hold onto him tight, scared that if you let go, he might disappear. When you didn’t answer, his eyes wandered to Steve and then Sam before looking back to his boss and best friend who finally stepped closer.

The mafia boss's eyes were unblinking as he did his own visual assessment, searching Bucky from head to toe and back up again and lingering on the red patches of his shirt. “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance? Where have you been?” Steve asked, one worst stumbling into another as placed a trembling hand on Bucky’s shoulder, just to touch him and make sure that he was here and real.

Bucky continued to look confused between Steve and the top of your head from where you still clung to his chest. “Ye-yeah, I’m fine, what’s happened?” Bucky answered more firmly this time.

Taking a deep breath and smelling Bucky to try and ground yourself, noting the way the iron scent overwhelmed his expensive cologne. Trying to compose yourself, you quickly stepped back, releasing your hold on his neck to wipe the wetness on your cheeks from the tears that slowly came to a stop as you truly realised he was ok. As you backed up, you bumped into Steve’s chest and instinctively reached behind for his other hand that was hanging at his side and squeezed it, a silent conversation that was needed between the two as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

His other hand remained on Bucky’s shoulder, you could see that he was gripping the man firmly, not wanting to let go as he explained what had happened. “We thought you were missing, I mean - you were missing. The location of your phone hadn’t moved for an hour and when Natasha went to investigate she found it in a trash can. We thought something had happened to you”.

Bucky nodded slowly, processing the information as his eyes flicked between you and Steve. “A trash can? Those assholes…” Bucky muttered under his breath before he clarified what had happened. “Ross the Coward lives up to his nickname as he hired a team of security. They thought they had me cornered at one point but it was easy work to dispose of them but one of the little pricks stole my phone. Probably to stop me from calling for back up but I don’t need backup”, he shrugged confidently. “It’s sorted, their bodies won’t be found it just took some time to clean up the mess before I drove straight here”.

Steve’s chest relaxed against your back as he released a sigh, the tension easing from his body as he needed to clarify one more thing. “So the blood… it’s not yours?” he asked, nodding to the specks of blood on his shirt.

Bucky gave an arrogant, deadpan look. “Come on, do you have such little faith in me?” he pinched the shirt to emphasise, “all their blood, no injuries except a couple of split knuckles but even they are mostly healed”. Lifting his warm hand he wiggled his fingers and proved that there were no lingering cuts, only pink lines left breath all of the dried blood.

When neither you nor Steve responded as you processed the news and that he was ok and not dead in some hidden alleyway, Bucky had his own questions. “So what was all the shouting about? Why did Doll look like she was about to beat up ol’ Sammy boy over there?”

“Steve tried to be heroic and make me stay behind whilst he searched for you, even though it would have been better to have more people searching for you. I wasn’t going to just sit here and wait for everyone to come back”, you explained whilst still squeezing Steve’s hand.

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly before he tried to compose himself by straightening his spine, shoulders rolling back as he addressed Steve. “Oh? So you were going to come and save me? My wonderful knight in shining armour”, Bucky teased with a smirk, taking a towering step closer as you moved gently out of the way, sensing that the two men needed a moment.

Steve’s face was stoic and serious as he simply whispered, “Yes, you know I would”.

Bucky hummed, head tilting to look at you, contemplating for a second, opening his mouth with the plan to continue the flirtatious teasing but the words were lost in thought as Steve’s hand that you’d been holding lifted to cup Bucky’s cheek. He forced Bucky to look at him, his thumb pad stroking across the stubble covering his cheek, in an intimate way that had a warm feeling spreading through your heart.

Steve’s eyes were darting between Bucky’s, then continued on their own journey across the rest of his face, lingering for a second too long on his friend's plump lips as he needed to clarify one more time, “Are you sure you’re ok Buck?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Stevie”, Bucky confirmed, his voice barely audible with how softly he responded, no longer teasing or sarcastic.

“Good”, Steve trailed off for a moment, eyes watching his thumbs exploration across Bucky’s cheek. Your heart was pounding as you watched the interaction, the sincerity on the mafia boss’ face as he struggled with his emotions. “I thought you were hurt, I thought-”, he wasn’t able to finish his sentence as he took the final step closer, using the hand on Bucky’s face to pull him closer so that he could kiss his forehead tenderly and wrapping his arm around his shoulders in a tight hug, releasing a deep breath.

Your cheeks ached with how widely you smiled, your hands grasping together as you rocked on your feet, finding the moment endearing and intimate and clearly needed between the two of them. Over Steve’s shoulder, you caught Sam’s eye as he gave you a little wave before making a swift and quiet exit through the door, giving the three of you some much-needed time alone and so that he could call Natasha and give her an update.

Returning your eyes to Steve and Bucky, they were just relaxing their holds on one another but only so that they could gaze into each other's eyes one more. Steve finally took closed those last inches, making a decision he’d wanted to do for a while but was frightened of the dynamics shifting between them but those minutes of thinking Bucky was hurt, he wouldn’t waste another minute again.

Both seemed to relax and feel whole all at once as Steve tilted his head and kiss Bucky’s lips. Gently, their lips caressed together, taking a second just to taste one another, feel another pair of lips that weren’t yours, both thinking it would feel strange to kiss their best friend but it felt right like they were meant to be.

Biting your lip to hold back the gleeful gasp, you watched in wonder as your boyfriends became more heated, heads tilting and hands grasping onto each other's shirts, crinkling the material as their desperation increased to try and feel more of one another. You watched with increasing fascination and a powerful wave of arousal in your core that had your cunt pulsing with need but this wasn’t about you, it was about Steve and Bucky. The two had been more intimate over the last couple of months but neither made any move to take that step, even with your meddling and interfering so it was a relief to finally see them snap and be together.

Steve pulled back first but only as he grasped Bucky’s bottom lip between his lip, tugging on it until it snapped back to place with a pop. The two men rested their foreheads together, still sharing breaths with how close their faces were. “Don’t ever do something to scare me like that again, Buck”, Steve demanded softly under his breath.

“Yes, Boss”, Bucky quipped before leaning in again for a calmer, softer kiss.

For a moment, you contemplated leaving them to explore one another and have the alone time they both desperately needed but Steve seemed to sense your step towards the door as he released his grip on Bucky’s jaw to point towards you and then crooking his index finger in a ‘come here’ gesture. When he couldn’t hear you make your approach, he pulled away from the brunette with glassy eyes and puffy lips from the kissing as he tilted his head in your direction. “Room for one more, Baby”.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, not making any effort to join the two, “are you sure? You two look like you need some alone time and having enough time without me-”.

“Oh get over here already”, Bucky joked, with his signature chirpy smile on his handsome face, his dimples deepening as he reached over to you, taking your hand and pulling you closer.

The smile on your own face only stretched as you were pulled flush again Bucky’s chest as Steve moved around the man to his back, looking at you over Bucky’s shoulder with a flirty eyebrow raised before he was continuing his exploration of Bucky by kissing along his neck.

Grasping onto Bucky’s ripped jacket, you reached up on your tip toes and your lips finally stroked against Bucky’s. The two of you moaned, you even more so at tasting the hints of Steve on your boyfriend's lips, your tongue instantly easing out to taste more of him which Bucky was more than happy to open his mouth and accept the invasion.

Your fingers shook slightly with how firmly you were holding onto Bucky, the relief hitting you all over again that he was ok and really safe between you and Steve. You wanted to taste all of Bucky, needed to feel all of his body and even though you were used to being the centre of attention concerning the intimate moments between the three of you, at that moment, you and Steve needed Bucky to be looked after and praised.

So as Steve continued to tease Bucky’s throat, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh just below his ear, your hands loosened their grip but only so that the material could be pushed over his shoulders and allowed to be dropped to the floor. Your nibble fingers rushed to start unbuttoning his bloodied shirts but due to the emotions and adrenaline, it was a difficult and slow job so Steve took a handful of either side of the shirt and pulled, ripping the buttons easily and the material opening so that it too could be pushed over his shoulders and onto the floor, the buttons dropping and scattering all over the floor.

Not a single word was said at the action, other than a deep groan from Bucky as your nails scratched down his torso, feeling the bare, hot flesh beneath, the muscles tensing under your touch. Pulling back from the kiss, you desperately sucked in the air but only for a second as you left open-mouth kisses down his chest, feeling the light sprinkling of dark brunette hair that covered his chest, covering the previously mentioned scars from past injuries.

With his lips now free, Bucky had the freedom to tip his head back and to the side, giving Steve more room to tease and suck purple marks between his throat and shoulder, earning more desperate moans from the man.

Reaching around Bucky, you grasped onto Steve’s hands and pulled them around his front, helping the man to know where to touch the other, knowing that even though they had seen you fuck both of them, it was different having to do it themselves. Steve pulled back from dominating Bucky’s neck to cast his lust-filled eyes on you, smirking as he followed your lead as you moved Steve’s hands over Bucky’s abs and lower still until they landed on top of his belt.

Just before undoing it, Steve moved his lips to Bucky’s ear lobe, nipping with his sharp teeth before asking, “What do you say Bucky? Do you want this?”

Steve needed to hear him say it, that he wanted both yours and his touch. He was thankfully answered with a deep, aroused groan as Bucky huskily grunted, “fuck yes, don’t you dare stop”.

You and Steve shared an equally relieved grin before you dropped to your knees as the mafia boss continued to skillfully undo Bucky’s belt, clasp and zipper. This was where you took over, pushing the material over his firm arse until his trousers rested midthigh and you were eye level with his boxers-covered cock that was straining beneath the material.

“My favourite sight”, Bucky complimented, looking down at you and resting his hand on the back of your head as you smiled deviously up at him with wide eyes. With your hands resting on his toned, hairy thighs, you left the next step to Steve who thankfully continued undressing Bucky as he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, letting them join his trousers.

Now you were staring at the beautiful sight of Bucky’s thick, red cock that was already leaking beads of precum causing the tip to glisten. Glancing back up at Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, you raised an eyebrow to notify them that he should have the first touch.

With one large hand resting on Bucky’s abs, Steve’s other hand lowered and wrapped around the middle of Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s hips instantly thrust forward at the touch, his mouth dropping open as he looked at where he was being touched by his best friend, feeling the difference between having your smaller, softer hand and Steve’s big rough hand, deciding then and there that both were perfect.

SteveBucky'sd Bucky's cock a few times, spreading the precum and just trying to get used to touching another man's cock, noting the pressure he enjoyed and areas to give every attention to. Then, Steve held the base of it so that he stayed still and proud standing for you to inch forward and lick the tip.

“Fuck, both of you feel so good”. Bucky praised as he watched you as took more of his cock into your mouth Steve continued to hold it for you to suck as he subtly thrust his own clothed cock into Bucky’s back.

You thoroughly worshipped Bucky, loving the feeling for that moment of being in control with Steve, having Bucky between the two of you, moaning and losing his cool as you both pleasured him. His cock was salty and perfect as it lay heavy against your tongue as you attempted to take more of it into your mouth until it stroked the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water slightly.

You were so thoroughly aroused by the sight of Bucky rosy-cheeked and looking at you in awe with Steve still teasing him over his shoulder. Your thighs clenched closed, needing to feel some relief but nothing was what you needed so pulling off the tip of the cock with an audible pop, you nuzzled into his thigh with wide, hopeful eyes as you asked, “Please may I touch myself, sir?”

Bucky’s hand cradled against your cheek, thumb playing with your bottom lip that was already puffy from the blowjob you were giving. “Oh darlin’, you can do whatever you want when you’re looking so pretty like that for me”.

You grinned in relief up at him, turning to kiss his palm before straightening your stance on your knees once more but spread your legs, giving yourself room to drop a hand from his thigh to beneath your dress, pulling up the material until it bunched at your waist. You sighed in relief as you began to pleasure Bucky with your mouth once more but now your fingers could circle your clit over your soaked underwear.

“Doesn’t our girl look good for us, on her knees like that”, Steve joined the praises for you as he began to tweak one of Bucky’s nipples, causing the man to thrust deeper into your throat.

Bucky turned his head to make out with Steve over his shoulder, the two of them groaning as their tongues brushed together, tasting one another as you tasted Bucky’s cock. However, eventually, as Bucky’s cock began to throb harder in your mouth, did he ease your face away from him with a curse under his breath. “Shit, if you keep that up I’m going to cum already and I think… I think I want more, need to feel more”, he stated with a sense of uncertainty in his eyes with what it was exactly that he was asking.

You tried to decipher what it was that Bucky was asking as you asked him, “What do you say, Buckaroo? Think you can take Steve’s fingers better than I can? Is that what you want?” The throaty groan that Bucky released as he closed his eyes and cock visibly throbbed with more precum dripping from the end was answer enough before he nodded his head.

“Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes Buck and help baby girl onto the table”. Bucky’s eyes lit up as he caught onto Steve’s idea but you weren’t sure why you needed to be on the table for Bucky to be fingers but either way, you accepted Bucky's helping hand to stand.

Bucky kicked off his shoes and remaining clothes, leaving him beautiful and naked. Then he helped you over to the edge of the table, hands resting on your hips to lift you up and onto it, making sure your dress was still clumped around your waist. With a simple snap of his metal fingers, the flimsy material of your lace underwear was destroyed and floating to the floor as he bent over, licking his lips with hunger devouring his eyes as witnessed your soaked pussy.

Without wasting another second his tongue was stroking between your pussy lips, sucking and licking your juices before circling your throbbing clit in slow, calculated circles. All you could do was cry out, using one hand to hold the back of his hair and the other to rest against the table behind you to keep you upright. Bucky didn’t stop with his pleasure, even as he lifted one of your legs and eased it over his shoulder, giving him more room to ease two fingers into your desperately clenching hole.

As you succumbed to the pleasure, you half noticed Steve walking over to his main desk across the room, rifling through his draws before returning with the emergency bottle of lube that was usually saved for you. But now, as you watched over Bucky’s shoulder, you finally realised what their plan was.

With the height of the table, Bucky had to bend over to attach his mouth to your cunt, leaving his ass bare and ready for whatever Steve had planned. The blonde muscular man admired the view for a moment, grasping the globes of Bucky's firm cheeks and spreading them slightly and biting his lip as he saw his target.

Steve liberally coated his fingers in lube, thoroughly spreading the gel everywhere and then also squirting some onto the hole directly. During the experimental times during hundreds of sexual encounters between the three of you, you’d been able to see just what Steve and Bucky liked being done to them. Bucky, much to his surprise, absolutely loved to have his prostate milked as you sucked him off and even though the last few times and contemplated using something bigger as sometimes your fingers just weren’t big enough however never got to the point of something bigger as he’d usually cum by the time Steve had found a reasonable size dildo for him to use.

Steve had been just as reluctant but seeing the way Bucky responded to your fingers had wanted to try it as well had found that he liked a rimjob and a couple of fingers to stroke his prostate and had thought about asking Bucky to fuck him multiple times but once again, never made the move to do so with the fear of the relationships changing. Now however, there was no stopping him from asking but that would be for a later date, today was just about Bucky’s pleasure and giving him exactly what he wanted.

“We are still using the traffic light system, Buck, if you need to stop or pause it's yellow or red, understand?” Steve stated in as serious of a tone as he could muster as he watched Bucky continue to eat you out.

“Mmm, understood”, Bucky agreed, nodding his head which only stimulated your clit further as he mumbled around it.

Steve nodded and began to press his thick, rough and thoroughly lubed finger against Bucky’s hole, being careful to rock it in and stretch the muscle, not wanting to hurt him but Bucky wasn’t having any of the teasing today. With a throaty grunt, he pushed his hips back and took the entire length of Steve’s index finger, loving the hinting of the stretching burn.

He fully removed his face from your cunt to praise Steve, “fuck that feels so good, please Stevie, give me more, I need more”. Then he was right back on you again, fingers curling right against your spot and lips sealed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Your moans of pleasure were driving him insane and his cock was continuously leaking drips of precum, he didn’t have much longer before he came and wanted to still make it long enough to soak your pussy with his seed.

Steve gawked at the sight of his finger disappearing inside his best friend's asshole. His own cock was painfully hard and het to feel any relief but he didn’t care, needing to see just how far Bucky could go before even beginning to think about himself. Feeling the muscle beginning to relax and adjust to the side of his finger, he began to inch it in and out, ignoring Bucky’s pleas for more, and instead going deciding for himself when Bucky felt relaxed enough.

Steve finally added another finger, spending some time working the hole wide and teasing his prostate within, feeling Bucky shivering and gasping with how good it felt. Even having to stop on occasions as Bucky frantically tried to calm himself down and not cum yet.

You, on the other hand, had already came twice on Bucky’s mouth and fingers. You were so sensitive and so thoroughly aroused by Bucky's skilful body but hearing and seeing just how much Steve’s fingers were making him feel and especially knowing that Bucky was practically edging himself just sot hat he could cum in your pussy.

You were trying to catch your breath from the last orgasm, your back flush against the table as your arm couldn't hold your weight up anymore with your limbs now feeling like jelly. Bucky on the other hand was teasing and nipping your thighs, giving your sensitive pussy a moment to rest before he planned to fuck you.

Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky’s pupils were blown so wide that his eye colour looked black, your juices soaking his chin as he demanded, “Steve if you don’t fuck me right now, I can promise you right now that when we get home, I won’t suck your dick like I’ve been planning too since you ripped open my shirt”.

Steve’s eyes darkened just as much as Bucky's as he pulled his fingers out of Bucky’s slightly gaping hole and began to undo his belt and zipper, reaching into trousers and boxers and easing out his aching cock. He didn’t bother with removing any other article of clothing as he helped Bucky to stand up, the two of them shuffling forward so that Bucky could line himself up at your dripping cunt.

You lazily opened your eyes, grinning at the sight of Bucky preparing to fuck you with Steve over his shoulder. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink and their bodies trembling with the anticipation of the fucking that was about to take place.

Bucky rested a hand next to your head, leaning down for a second to delicately kiss your lips, “colour?” he asked, noting how cock drunk you already looked.

“Very, very green”, you responded, lifting your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him into one more kiss before you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, He slowly entered you, your pussy stretching and pulsing around him as you tried to take his full size, thighs trembling with the exertion until the two of you were full fitted together.

Bucky kissed your exposed shoulder as he spread his stance slightly, making it easier for Steve to slide behind him and rock his cock between his arse cheeks, smearing the excessive amounts of extra lube over his shaft.

“I need to hear your colour too, Buck”, Steve demanded, one hand on the base of his cock and the other wrapped around the form of Bucky to grip his jaw, tilting his head so that his mouth was next to his ear.

“Very, very green”, he repeated your words back with a content smirk and you could feel his cock throb inside of you as Steve kissed his jaw.

All three of you seemed to hold your breath as Steve carefully slid his thick cock into Bucky's hole. A wonderful chorus of moans and groans filled the air. Steve couldn’t believe how good it felt to be inside of Bucky, finally doing something he had wished to do for so long. You were almost close to your third orgasm just from watching your boys fit together, and you could also feel just how much it was affecting Bucky with how hard his member was inside of your cunt.

Then there was Bucky, who had next felt such overwhelming pleasure before in his life. For his hole to be the most stretched and full he’d ever experienced, his prostrate being heavily jabbed by Steve’s cock and for Bucky’s own cock to be in his favourite place in the world: your warm, tight, wet pussy. He was in heaven. You all were.

Steve did most of the thrusting for all three of you. With a heavy hand resting on Bucky’s shoulder blades, he pushed the man forward and began to rock his hips back and forth. The momentum shifted Bucky's hips to them move in and out of you until all three of you were moving together.

Bucky was trembling with how much he was trying to hold back his orgasm, a constant stream of filthy moans floating from his mouth as he tried to get you to your third orgasm. However, because you were already so sensitive and overwhelmed with emotions, all it took was a couple of heavy-handed circles of Bucky metal fingers against your clit and you were arching your back, pussy fluttering and tightening in bursts around your boyfriend's cock.

“Holy fucking shit, Doll, feel so good, I - I think I’m going to cum already, fuck Steve don’t stop”. Bucky's gasps and pleas were just as desperate as his expression as he tried not to cum, tried his best to hold back his orgasm but it was no use.

Especially as you cupped his cheek and begged for him to find his own relief, “Please Bucky, want your cum in me so bad, need to feel you filling me up, cum for me”.

“Shit- Ah!”, he grunted, eyes clenching closed as he purposefully still his hips against Steve’s fucking, his mouth gaping open in a deep moan that you would remember for the rest of your life as one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

You could feel him, the pulsing of his cock, the thick load soaking your walls. Steve could too as Bucky’s hole clenched so hard his cock was suffocated and Steve joined the two of you in your erotic orgasms, his hips stuttering to a stop as his hot seed pumped into Bucky until finally he collapsed against Bucky’s back.

Bucky was half laying over your body against the table so you could easily run your fingers over the back of his head and also through Steve’s as you all tried to process what had just occurred and the relationship that had changed, and all for the better.

“So… how does it feel to be railed by Steve?” you asked innocently to Bucky. The man chuckled deeply, his chest vibrating against yours.

“Probably as good as it felt to be railing you”, he joked, causing you and Steve to laugh. Life was going to be very interesting between the three of you.

#mafia au #mafia stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky smut #marvel smut #stucky x reader #mine*

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zepskies · 4 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 18

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, brief mentions of the events of Part 13, some ADA Sam, Detective John, and a cliffhanger…

Part 18: “V for Vendetta”

After that first rocky month, Dean started to improve physically, and so did you emotionally, as he tried his best to let you help him when he needed it.

In turn, you did your best to gauge his moods; when he truly did need help, and when it was best for you to just be his girlfriend, not his caretaker.

January rolled onwards, and the resulting winter cold snap brought a kind of calm before a storm. Nick Savage still hadn’t been found, but that didn’t mean your worries were over.

Dean knew that this would hang over all of your heads until both Nick and his father were caught and exposed.

Today Dean walked with Sam on his day off, doing a few laps around the neighborhood as part of Dean’s rehab. They knew a police car was stationed nearby, watching them for their safety. It was a bit unnerving, but necessary.

They were walking back into the building when Sam stopped to check the mail. The box for their unit was along the wall in the corridor with several other locked boxes. Sam unlocked theirs and pulled out a rolled-up newspaper, some coupons, and a stray folded note addressed to Dean. Sam’s brows furrowed.

“What’s that, a love note?” Dean asked dryly. He took it from Sam and unfolded the scrap of paper.

20579. Your badge will join your dad’s on the wall.

Both the Fire Department headquarters and the 84th Precinct had a wall to commemorate firefighters and officers who had given their lives in the line of duty. Each of their badges had their own display plaque hung on the respective walls.

In short, the note was a threat.

Sam’s worried frown deepened as he watched Dean’s good mood evaporate. He crumpled up the note and pocket it, before he met his younger brother’s eyes.

“Keep this between us,” he warned. As in, don’t tell you.

Sam shook his head. “Dad needs to know, at least. And you two need to be careful.”

“That goes for you and Eileen too,” Dean replied. He reached for Sam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t matter that you’re an ADA. Azazel goes after cops and their families. He’s gonna be gunning for an opportunity to get to one of us.”

Sam’s lips pressed together, but he acknowledged that with a nod.

They went back upstairs together, where you were dressed casually and gathering up your purse.

“Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked. Sam shot him a glance, which Dean silently answered with a short nod. He looked back at you when you offered him a smile.

“Yep, we need a few things. Milk, eggs, more Twizzlers, apparently,” you quipped, lightly smacking his stomach. Dean quirked a smile.

“Give me a sec. I’ll go with you,” he said.

You made an uncertain sound. “Didn’t you just get back from a walk? You sure you don’t just want to shower up and relax?”

“I’m good,” said Dean. He knew you didn’t like the idea of him overexerting himself, but he didn’t feel comfortable letting you go out alone. He could tell by the look Sam once again threw his way from the kitchen that he didn’t think it was a good idea either.

Dean slid a hand up your arm. “How about this. I’ll stay in the car. I just want some more fresh air.”

You tilted your head at him, but you conceded. He followed you to the door and held it open for you.

“Can I drive?” Dean hedged.

You chuckled. “Don’t push it, Lieutenant.”

On the way back from the grocery store, you discreetly eyed Dean’s profile. His knee was bouncing as he stared out the window.

Sometimes he checked the rearview mirror of your Camaro. Sometimes he fiddled with the radio or checked his phone.

It was all nervous behavior you took a catalogue of. By the time you pulled back into the parking lot of Dean’s apartment building, he finally seemed to relax a fraction. You parked the car and turned to him.

“Okay, what’s the matter?” you asked.

Dean gave you a curious look, but there was an unmistakable tension in his demeanor.

“What do you mean?”

You tried your question a different way. “What’s got you all on edge?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Dean,” you prodded. “Does it have something to do with why you insisted on coming with me, even though I can see that you’re tired?”

His face tightened, but he reached over for your hand. Your fingers curled around his. Now you were getting worried.

“We’ve got the police watching us here, but anything could happen out there,” Dean said. “Until this blows over, I don’t think you should go out by yourself.”

Until this blows over. You wanted to ask when that would be, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

“Zachariah called me this morning,” you admitted. “He’s standing in for Nick as CEO. He said I have a job waiting for me when I get off medical leave next week. Everyone’s been working from home since the fire, but we’d be going to a new building the company owns downtown.”

Dean tightened up, just like you knew he would. His eyes closed as his head tilted back against the headrest. He let out a long breath through his nose. You stayed quiet, both waiting for what he might say and preparing for him to get upset.

He surprised you by calmly looking over at you again.

“It’s not a good idea. If Nick’s still alive, it means his dad probably knows you know who he is,” he said. “And not for nothin’. Even with Nick out of there, that place’s probably been built on blood money.”

Both were fair points.

“I know. I’m going to find something else, as soon as you’re better,” you said. Dean shook his head and held your hand tighter.

“Don’t let me be an excuse,” he said. His gaze was firm and direct meeting yours. “I need you to start taking care of yourself too, all right? Please.”

Faced with his earnestness, you couldn’t help but soften. After everything he’d done to save you, to protect you, was it fair of you to keep making him worry?

In the past, you’d felt justified. You couldn’t quit. You needed the money. You could handle it, whatever came next. You would deal with it because you had to.

But maybe this time, you didn’t have to. It wasn’t worth all this.

With that resolve, you let out a breath.

“I’m going to call Zachariah,” you said, “and tell him that I’m working from home, or I quit.”

Dean stared back at you with a measure of surprise.

“I’m not going back,” you said, squeezing his hand. “If he has a problem with that, I’ll use whatever I have left in my savings. Hopefully that’ll be enough until I find a new job.”

After a moment, Dean expelled a breath of relief. He beckoned you over, and carefully as you could over the upholstery, you leaned over and caressed his cheek before you went in for a kiss. He welcomed you, with his hands slipping up your sides and around your back, pressing you into him with a heady warmth.

He paused against your lips after a while. His forehead rested against yours.

“You don’t need to drain your savings. I can help you,” Dean started to say, but you pulled back and held your fingers to his lips.

“You’ve helped me enough. You’re already letting me live with you rent free,” you pointed out. “Let me figure out the rest.”

After a moment, Dean wordlessly agreed. He wanted to argue that you wouldn’t have had to move in with him if not for Azazel putting you in his sights, but at the same time, Dean understood that you’d been providing for yourself for a long time. He respected you for it.

So he just guided you back to him for another slow kiss.

John Winchester owned a condo approximately 20 minutes from his sons’ apartment. It was the home they’d grown up in after the house fire, over thirty years ago.

John had learned a lot since then. In fact, some might say that he’d become a paranoid bastard.

Aside from a professional alarm system, he’d installed hidden cameras inside and out of his home, and at every window. It meant that even when he was asleep, his eyes were never truly closed.

When the intruder took his first steps into John’s bedroom, the man himself was waiting with a gun cocked and loaded. The safety clicking back made a small sound, but in the silence, it might as well have been a gunshot.

The masked man swiftly turned and ducked, throwing a punch. The scuffle that followed was quick and covered by darkness.

The cameras on “Night Mode” picked up every moment.

And that was how John later showed video evidence of Alastair Rolston breaking into his condo, and subsequently getting his ass handed to him.

Both men had their fair share of bruises, but at the end of the day, Alastair was the one cuffed to a chair in the bowels of the 84th Precinct. He sat beside his court-appointed lawyer.

Meanwhile, Cas watched the scene from behind the one-way glass window of the interrogation room. Rufus Turner, their Lieutenant, was beside him, along with ADA Sam Winchester. He watched the man his father questioned very carefully.

“Well, I think you know what this means, Mr. Rolston,” John drawled.

Alastair’s stance in the chair was relaxed, almost unfazed. He gave the detective a wry smile.

“What’s that, John?” he asked.

“I’ve got you dead to rights on attempted murder of a cop,” said John. “It ain’t a good look, my friend.”

“Don’t answer that,” said the lawyer. Alastair glanced at the man, unimpressed, to say the least.

“No shit,” he replied.

“I’d say you’ve got two options,” John pressed forward. He leaned on the table between him and Alastair.

“Did Azazel…excuse me, Daniel Savage, put you up to this? You can answer that question, or I could just skip to the part where you sit in a cell for 20 to life.”

Alastair’s face gave away nothing but calculation and amusement. John nodded, with a grim smile.

“I’ll bet you set the fire at Savage & Co. Trying to get Nick to look like a victim in all this—the consequence of doing business with the likes of Azazel,” he said. “Better yet, I think you’re his favorite hitman. Clean, precise, no tracks left behind, no traces of evidence. Perfect kills. I’ll bet you consider yourself a goddamn artist.”

Alastair lifted his gaze, and John saw the familiar depths of a killer.

“I don’t like setting fires,” said Alastair.

John was nonplussed. “I’m sure you don’t.”

The other man rolled his shoulders.

“It’s all very…messy, you see. Unpredictable.” A smile graced his lips. “But I know someone who does.”

“He’ll give you his employer,” the lawyer said. “The person who ordered the hit.”

“Which hit?” John arched a brow. “I can’t be the only special one. What about Paul Richardson, Jerry Stillwell, Amanda Waller?”

The lawyer shared a look with his client. Alastair rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper in his ear. After a moment, the lawyer nodded and met John’s gaze.

“He’ll tell you what you want to know, but only for a blanket deal of immunity.”

John could’ve guessed. Alastair smiled once more and leaned back in his seat.

The detective held up a finger and exited the interrogation room. He met Sam’s gaze, and the latter already knew what his father was thinking.

"Give me a minute," Sam said. He went into the room and tried to negotiate with Alastair and his lawyer, but the man wouldn't accept a plea of 20 to 25 years, even to serve all the murders they could charge him with concurrently. Nor would he accept 15 to 20, or even Sam's best deal: 10 to 12.

Sam exited the room and hid his discouragement. He met his father's waiting gaze.

“We can’t give him immunity,” Sam said. “He’s likely the one who committed Azazel’s hits. Not just for the past six months, but for God knows how long, and how many bodies.”

“At this point, it’s the only way we’re getting a chance at Daniel Savage,” John said. “Not just finding him, but pinning him as the mastermind behind the whole operation. Drug trafficking, arson, murders…the whole thing, Sam.”

Sam didn’t like it. No one did, for that matter, but even Rufus heaved a sigh.

“You can’t move forward without a trigger finger willing to testify,” he said.

“Yeah, because hitmen make notoriously credible witnesses,” Sam retorted.

“Do think he set the fires as well?” Cas asked John. “He seemed to imply that he committed the murders, but not the arson.”

John hummed in contemplation.

“We’ll find out. But first, I want a confirmed name from the horse’s mouth,” he said, shifting his attention to Sam. “Can you get me that, son?”

Sam’s lips pursed.

Within an hour, the paperwork was drawn and the plea deal was arranged. Father and son sat side by side on one side of the interrogation room, while Alastair and his lawyer sat on the other. Alastair finished signing the final document as the cuffs on his wrists jangled.

“All right,” said John. “Tell me what I want to know.”

Alastair smiled and spread his hands as wide as he was able.

“I’m an open book, Johnny. Ask away.”

John leaned forward.

“Let’s start with this,” he said. “Who ordered you to kill me?”

Nick Savage was unearthed from a luxury apartment in the south of France. He was extradited back the United States and hauled into a courtroom in Lawrence, Kansas for arraignment.

Sam Winchester was the prosecutor on the case. As luck would have it, one of his favorite judges was also assigned for this docket.

“What do we have here?” asked Judge Devereaux. He was a portly man, short and graying, with square black glasses that framed his perpetually surly face. The man now adjusted his glasses so he could read the slip of paper the clerk had just handed to him after reading off the docket.

The charges included four counts of murder in the first degree: the murders-for-hire, enacted by Alastair Rolston.

Followed by attempted murder in the first degree, ten counts of murder in the second degree (those who had lost their lives in the most recent building fire), conspiracy to commit murder, arson, and if that weren’t enough, a charge each of attempted sexual assault and sexual harassment.

When the last two charges were read out loud in the courtroom, Nick looked visibly angry.

Sam glanced over at the defendant with thinly veiled satisfaction. Some days, it was difficult for him to come to work.

Today was not that day.

“All right, that is a laundry list of potential misdeeds,” Judge Deveraux remarked. He looked up at Nick Savage. “How does the defendant plead?”

At the prodding of his lawyer, Amelia Richardson, Nick spoke up.

“Not guilty,” he said. Though he rolled his eyes, as if this was a waste of his time.

“What’s the deal here, Mr. Winchester?” Judge Devereaux asked.

“The primary charge is a murder-for-hire, your Honor,” Sam replied. “Mr. Savage hired a hitman to murder at least five people, and succeeded with four. He also masterminded several arsons. This includes a fire at his own company building, which claimed the lives of ten people and injured several others. This is all part of a larger connection to organized crime, which the People intend to prove in our case. Due to the nature of the charges, and the defendant clearly being a flight risk, we seek his remand to custody without bail.”

The judge raised his brows. He turned to the defendant’s lawyer.

“What about it, Miss Richardson?”

Amelia shot Sam a glance, but she replied to the judge.

“What we have here is a conflict of interest, your Honor,” she said. “Detective John Winchester has a vendetta against my client. Therefore, Mr. Winchester should recuse himself. It’s a family affair, Judge, and they have no evidence for any of these charges, except for the testimony of a confessed murderer.”

“It’s called prosecutorial discretion,” Sam cut in. “Our evidence goes beyond Mr. Rolston’s testimony and will more than support our case. I’ve also tried my father’s cases before, your Honor. This defendant is no different.”

The judge peered closer at the docket with incredulous eyes.

“Except for the fact that one of the attempted murders was on your father. John Winchester?” Judge Devereaux actually chuckled. “Oh, Mr. Savage. Many have tried and failed on that regard.”

“Judge,” Amelia tried, but Devereaux waved her off. Sam took in that small victory without giving anything away outwardly. The fact that John was on the docket as a “victim” was easily Sam’s biggest challenge in this arraignment, but he just couldn’t hand this off to another prosecutor.

“And what’re these last charges about?” the judge asked.

“Mr. Savage attempted to sexually assault one of his employees at a company Christmas party in the defendant’s home, your Honor,” Sam replied. His gaze once again cut over to Nick, who glared back at him with a sneer.

“That’s a goddamn lie!” Nick shouted.

Amelia grabbed his arm and tried to shut him up, but Nick jerked out of her grasp.

“Put a gag on your client or I will, Miss Richardson,” Devereaux warned with a deepening frown.

“Hey,” Amelia hissed a whisper, grabbing the sleeve of Nick’s suit jacket this time. “Get it together and shut your mouth. Remember where you are.”

He ignored her to try and speak to the judge himself.

“That bitch tased me. Did she tell you that?” Nick levied Sam a look, before he turned back to Devereaux. “Yeah, she assaulted me, Judge. So that charge is fucking bogus.”

“I’ve heard quite enough!” Devereaux snapped. He raised his gavel and slammed it down loud enough for Nick to flinch. “The defendant is remanded to custody, without bail.”

It was more satisfying than John would admit.

While the development wasn’t exactly what he had expected, having Daniel Savage’s son dragged out of his new prison home to sit in another musty holding cell was the highlight of the new year.

This was the poor excuse for a man who’d given him such a headache these past few months. This was the little shit that nearly got his son killed, and who’d been terrorizing you for months, if not years.

But he would be a means to an end.

“I’ll tell ya what, Nick. You don’t look like a man that could organize a handful of murders and arsons, but here we are,” John said.

He scratched the back of his head and sat on the corner of the desk. Sam was seated across from Nick, and Cas was hanging back within the cell, watching the exchange (and watching Nick’s reactions for any tells).

On the other side sat Nick himself, dressed down in his gray prison garb. It was a far cry from the $5,000 suit he wore in the arraignment. Next to him was his lawyer, Amelia Richardson.

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” she asked. She shot Sam a glance.

They had dated in law school for a few months. It had ended abruptly when her husband returned from Afghanistan. It had been a shock to both of them, since the man had been presumed dead.

Clearly, Sam had moved on since then. He was happier with Eileen than he ever was, but he could tell that Amelia had never quite recovered from the “what could’ve been” of their relationship.

Still, Sam had set all that aside the moment he stepped into this room. He watched his father work.

“Why did you set fire to your own building?” John asked.

He’d expected Nick to be more explosive with his denials, but the man was quietly simmering, like he just wanted the questioning to be over. It reminded John of when his sons were teenagers. Maybe he hadn’t been the perfect father, but intuition was telling him something…

“You didn’t do it, did you?” John mused. “At least, not that fire.”

It was interesting, however, that Alastair had pinned the Savage & Co. fire on the son—that Nick had started it himself, along with the other arsons. Alastair had just been the muscle, committing the murders and the brandings on the victims.

John wasn’t so sure he believed that. He leaned in a bit and gave Nick a wry smile.

“Did Daddy do that one for ya?” he asked.

At that, Nick held firm. “My father has nothing to do with this.”

Hmm, a bit of familial loyalty? Maybe trying to prove himself, John detected. How far is he willing to go to protect his dad?

“So you did do it, along with the other arsons,” John said.

“Are you trying to get him to confess without a plea deal?” Amelia snarked.

“I’m trying to figure out how badly this kid wants to stay out of jail for the rest of his life,” John said.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Nick grumbled.

“If you have something for us on Daniel Savage, then we’re willing to listen,” Sam added. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in jail?”

Nick crossed his arms, clearly uncooperative.

Sam narrowed his gaze. “This is your last chance, Nick.”

“You don’t have anything on me except for the word of a murdering felon,” Nick retorted. “I’ll beat this trial in a few months and I’ll be out free…but if you really want to know, I’ll let you in on a little something.”

He leaned in, meeting John’s eyes.

“Dad retaliates,” said Nick. “I think you know that best of all, Detective. This time, I think it’s one son for another. And you’ve got two to pick from.”

“Nick,” Amelia warned, but he ignored her.

He glanced at a carefully stoic Sam before he smirked in John’s face, which had become devoid of all humor and revealed the stoniness underneath.

“If I were a betting guy, I’d put my money on the one that had a fucking building fall on him.”

After leaving the county jail, John drove Sam and Cas back to his sons’ apartment. They couldn’t treat Nick’s warning as an idle threat.

Sam was the prosecutor on the case. He wasn’t willing to step down, so the best they could do for him was give him a police security detail that would have to be with him at all times. However, all three men agreed that you, Dean, and Eileen needed to be put in protective custody during the trial.

“Damn it, Dean,” Sam muttered. His brother wasn’t answering his cell.

“Try him again,” said John.

“Is Eileen still at work?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, but she’s talking to the principal now about a temporary replacement for her classes,” Sam replied. He was worried about her safety, but he was also worried about you and Dean. Neither of you were answering your cell phones.

He later let John and Cas into his apartment, where all looked normal and clean.

“Dean!” Sam called out. He was just about to search the apartment when the man came out of his room, looking freshly showered.

“Hey, what’s up?” said Dean. “The gang’s all here, huh?”

“I’ve been calling you for an hour. Where’ve you been?” Sam asked in annoyance, though it was edged with a hint of more that tipped off Dean.

He sensed the tension in the room between his brother, his father, and his friend. He frowned.

“I had a doctor’s appointment. Why?”

John explained the latest round of questioning with Nick Savage, and his most recent threat. John asked where you were right now, if not in the apartment. Dean’s expression shifted to one of worry as he went to find his cell phone.

“She had a job interview,” he admitted, scrolling through his phone to find your name. “She couldn’t reschedule it, else she would’ve gone with me.”

He’d been uneasy about you going to the interview by yourself, but you hadn’t wanted him to change his appointment, and you had assured him it was only a few minutes away…

Dean held the phone to his ear and waited what felt like an eternity as it rang.

Pick up. Pick up, damn it.

Finally, the line connected.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

AN: 🫣 Sorry lol.

But the next chapter will bring the final showdown...

Next Time:

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Keep Reading: PART 19

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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#V for Vendetta #Smoke Eater #Part 18 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #john winchester #sam winchester #Castiel #zepskies writes

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 9 months

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Mr. Mailman | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a crush on the mailman :)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

A/N: This was an anon request. Enjoy!

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha forlornly stir her coffee while staring out the window.

“She’s upset Y/N won’t notice her,” Yelena explained.

“Shut up,” Nat snapped, shaking her head and snapping herself out of her fantasy.

“I’m not wrong. You’ve had his eye on him ever since he first showed up!”

“I said shut up!” While her tone was harsh, the blush creeping across her face told a different story. It was true. Natasha Romanoff, normally the stoic, unattached assassin, had a crush.

From the first day Y/N L/N stepped foot on the Avengers’ compound as the new Stark Industries delivery driver, Natasha was absolutely smitten. She didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way his biceps bulged as he pulled the truck full of packages through the loading dock. Or maybe it was the flourish he used flipping the clipboard back to the dock manager after signing the package transfer. But truth be told it was the way he glanced up from the clipboard and smiled at Natasha the first day he saw her. Ever since then she used every excuse in the book to be at the loading dock or mailroom whenever he was there.

******

You never anticipated that your first job after college would be a delivery driver for Stark Industries, but here you were. While it wasn’t the office job you anticipated, driving the delivery truck was actually pretty cool. Getting to step foot on the Avengers compound every day was cool. Having Tony Stark as your boss was cool. Sneaking a glance at Natasha Romanoff whenever you could? Cool isn’t the exact word you’d use for that.

The first time you laid eyes on Nat was your first day of work. You were signing for some packages that were being transferred from the compound to the main site when she walked by. She was passing through, on her way to some other location. All you did was look at her and smile. She flashed a quick grin in your general direction before speeding off. That was the last time she actually made eye contact with you, but it wasn’t the last time you saw her. Most days she was either in the mailroom or the loading dock whenever you got there. No words were exchanged between the two of you, but she was always there. Sometimes you sensed her looking at you, but she quickly glanced away when you looked over at her.

Natasha was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that. You never missed an opportunity to steal a quick glance whenever she passed by. But you were always too scared to actually strike up a conversation with her. She was the Black Widow: something about asking one of the world’s fiercest assassins out for coffee intimidated you. There was always the slight risk that an unwanted advance would end in your assassination. So you kept your distance for reasons of personal safety…or that’s what you told yourself.

******

“As the resident expert on waiting too long, don’t.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Nat chided. “I don’t even like him.”

“Oh, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Steve chuckled, dodging the coffee cup that came flying at his head. “It’s okay if you like him! I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s a nice guy.”

“No. No, it’s not okay. I wouldn’t know what to do if he liked me back…” she trailed off.

“You go out for coffee. You talk, you get to know each other.”

“Steve I…I’ve never actually dated anyone before!” Natasha blurted. Red crept up her cheeks as she finally admitted the one truth she never spoke aloud. The only other person who knew the truth was Yelena and even she was sworn to secrecy.

“What?”

“I know how to seduce people. That’s part of the job and I do it well. But it’s just the job. I’ve never done it for real.”

“Come on, you’re kidding. What about Connor?” Steve was shocked at the revelation. He set his coffee cup down on the counter and rubbed his beard as he stared at Natasha.

“That was a cover for the joint mission with MI6.”

“Lillian?”

“SHIELD mission.”

“David from Accounting?”

“Daniel. Just sex.”

Steve didn’t say anything: he just stared. Natasha glanced at her feet, kicking the ground in front of her as an awkward tension spread over the room. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole just to get her out of such an uncomfortable situation.

“Nat-”

“No one’s going to want to go out with a woman who’s never been on a date before,” Natasha replied tersely. She gulped the lump that was slowly creeping up her throat as she once again swallowed her pride.

It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually partner up with someone, in fact it was quite the opposite. After so many years of excuses, she just figured it would never happen to her. The possibility of something finally working out scared her. Natasha worried she wouldn’t know what to do. Sex was one thing. That was transactional, something both parties rendered knowing there weren’t any strings attached. Intimacy? That involved being vulnerable and saying how you felt. After so many years living so many lies Natasha wasn’t sure she was capable of such openness.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Steve encouraged, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha snapped as she shook his hand from her body. “We both know it’s not that simple.”

“It is with the right guy.”

******

Should be good after this last trip, you thought to yourself as you pushed the overflowing mail cart down the winding hallway toward the mailroom. It was cold and rainy, a miserable day to be on the road, and all you wanted was to get out of there, drive the truck back to the city, and head to your apartment in Queens. All that was left was sorting the mail and putting it in the right mailboxes.

The mailroom was a convoluted maze of boxes, bins, tubes, and chutes. Everything had a specific spot and it was easy to mess up at first. Once you got the hang of it, sorting everything out wasn’t too bad. What once took over an hour only took you twenty or so minutes now. Plopping the cart down in front of the mailboxes, you got to work stuffing envelopes, packages, and postcards where they belonged. The work was mindless, meditative almost. Once you got into the rhythm of it your brain shut off and muscle memory took over. Today you were so in the zone that you didn’t notice the redhead walk into the room behind you, so when you turned around the shock of realizing you weren’t alone made you drop your armful of envelopes.

“Oh great,” you muttered, stooping down to pick up the papers.

“Here, let me-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s my fault. Let me help you.”

You watched as the redhead knelt down in front of you, raking papers toward herself. It was the first time you were ever that close to Natasha Romanoff. A more looming, intimidating figure in your mind, she was surprisingly smaller and less threatening up close and in sweatpants. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t even know that she’s a trained assassin. She was so unobtrusive, so inconspicuous. She was also so, so incredibly beautiful.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in here,” you sheepishly apologized as you stared down at the red ponytail that was flopping back and forth.

“I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people,” Natasha admitted.

“Understandable,” you chuckled. Natasha gave a slight smile as she handed you some envelopes. God her eyes were the brightest green you’d ever seen. You grabbed the envelopes from her, holding onto them and locking eyes with her for far too long. Suddenly realizing you were actually a human being on earth currently existing in the moment, you cleared your throat abruptly and looked down at the letters.

“A lot of mail today,” Natasha mumbled. She snapped her head toward the mailbox, trying to hide the redness spreading over her cheeks. “Are you always this busy?”

“Uhhh, no. Not always. Normally it’s not this bad. Did y’all collectively decide that today was the best day to order from Amazon?”

“That’s either Bucky or Yelena. My sister’s always buying stuff she doesn’t need and Bucky loves the novelty of next-day delivery. I think it’s that whole ‘born over a hundred years ago’ thing.”

“Funny. Most of these packages are for you,” you teased, thrusting a stack of envelopes in her direction.

“What on earth?” Natasha fumbled the packages, completely confused as to why she had so many packages when she didn’t remember ordering anything. You watched as her eyes furrowed in utter confusion. Her bewilderment was equally amusing and adorable. “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“I just deliver the mail, ma’am,” you replied.

“And make me feel old, Mr. Mailman. You can call me Natasha.”

“It’s Y/N, but you can call me Mr. Mailman if that makes you feel better.”

“How about I just call you instead?” Natasha blurted without realizing what she was saying.

“What?”

The second she realized what she just said, Natasha became totally overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll just-thanks for the packages. Have a good weekend.” She scrambled to pick up what she could before making a beeline for the door.

“Natasha, wait!” you heard yourself calling. “Please just wait, please, ummm…” She paused, still looking down at her packages as she faced away from you. “Umm, coffee? I mean, d’you want to get coffee? Not right now, I’ve still gotta get the truck back to the city. But maybe tomorrow? Or I can do Sunday if tomorrow doesn’t work. Basically whenever you’re free I can clear my schedule. If you want. No pressure.”

“Alright.”

“Sooooo tomorrow then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” She glanced behind herself, shooting you a half grin that she was failing to stop from becoming a full on smile.

“Cool. Great. Awesome. Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you replied, totally breathless and in shock at the situation. A coffee date with Natasha Romanoff…what could go wrong?

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x male reader #natasha x male reader #black widow x male reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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piratefishmama · 10 months

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Nest | Part 6

Steve expected the crowd outside of the door. He expected the Alphas, four of them, intermingled with a small team of Betas for pheromone control. He didn’t expect the rise in aggression that spiked in him at the sight of them all, but he had enough self-control to shut it down as quick as it spiked.

They were there to protect Eddie, they weren’t there to hurt Eddie. They were there to protect him from Steve if need be, even at the risk of their own safety. They were doing their jobs.

“I’m okay.” He held up his hands in a bid to relax the crowd “I’m under control.”

“Very nearly weren’t, though, were you, Steve?” He also didn’t expect him. Although he should have. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t around. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t liable if things went sideways in the clinic, if one of his Alphas on staff assaulted someone. Sam Owens, Beta, good with the younger patients. Always had lollies in his coat pocket for the scared or nervous ones. “What’s everyone still doing here? Go on, off you go, crisis averted! Crowd disperse!” Looks were shared, before the small team dispersed back to their original stations, back to their actual jobs. “Steve, you come with me.”

“I can’t be away from him for long, I—”

“You won’t be, now come with me.” No room for argument, no matter how friendly the betas tone was, no matter how neutral he sounded. Owens was the boss. He was the one with all the degrees, the qualifications, the experience. Steve followed, he followed all the way down the main hallway and to the left, right to the end of that one, and through the door at the end, directors office, where he watched Owens take a seat behind his desk, only taking the one in front of it when it was offered. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Have a drink.” Owens stood and retrieved a soda can from a mini fridge he kept in his office, placing it on the desk for him before sitting back down. “You’re not in trouble Steve. It’s okay.”

“But I broke—”

“Nothing. You broke nothing. You kept yourself completely under control, and while yes it looked bad from the angle of the cameras, security were right in raising a response unit, you kept yourself in check, that shows an incredible amount of self-control, you broke nothing. You can relax.” It took him a moment, but he let the tension drain, it was okay, he wasn’t in trouble, he could have that drink, and everything would be fine. Owens even waited for him to finish his first swig of the refreshing liquid before he spoke again “What happened, from your perspective, Steve? Tell me everything from the moment you met him to… that.”

“In detail?”

“Condense it for me. Mr. Munson won’t be asleep forever, he’ll likely need you when he wakes so I don’t want to keep you here too long.” He could go back. He was allowed back. That last bit of tension draining away. It’d be okay.

“Right… uhm… well, I know him. We went to school together.”

“You’ve known a few Omegas who’ve been treated here, Mr. Emerson attends Hawkins Highschool as well, I’m sure you must have met him before, yet this wasn’t an issue in that assignment, what makes Mr. Munson different?”

“I don’t know, it’s like… it feels… right? Like—like I belong with him I—I don’t—I’ve never reacted like that to an Omega’s pre-heat scent before, it’s… I don’t know—” confusing, baffling, overwhelming, he wanted… god he wanted so badly but he didn’t know why.

“Like he’s yours?” It wasn’t an accusation, although a defensive alpha might have seen it as one, Steve kept his defences low. Sam Owens was not a threat. He’d already said Steve wasn’t in trouble.

“No… like… like I’m his” Owens nodded “like… like I was always supposed to be his” everything just clicking into place piece by piece, why he’d never been able to find the right person to settle down with, why his eyes had always been drawn to Eddie, sure he thought it was because Eddie just naturally drew the attention to himself, but—maybe it wasn’t that simple for him, maybe it wasn’t just Eddie’s ability to be the loudest person in a room that had Steve’s eyes drawn to him so often. “does that make sense?”

He'd just never gotten close enough to the Omega assume anything different.

“Unfortunately quite a bit. Yes.” Owens stood back up, and rounded his chair to the book case, where he perused for a moment before settling on a thin book bound in red leather, a notebook. “There’ve been a fair few cases of this kind of thing cropping up in clinics across the globe for as long as clinics like Nest have existed. Alphas and Omegas in close proximity during heats, it happens. Fanciful folk like to add romanticized labels to the whole thing, soulmates, fated mates, true mates. I’ve never been a fan of that terminology, they remove the essence of choice in it all. Of our own autonomy. When in reality, all it is, is that you both give off each other’s ideal scent, as in there's nothing in the subtle notes of it to put you off, and Eddie is just giving off a lot of his right now without anything to mask it.” That pre-heat scent doing its job too well. "The working term among the clinics is actually 'Scent Mates.'"

“…Excuse me?”

“We all have our individual scents, Steve, outside of things we can control like our cologne, perfume, the food and drink we’ve consumed, the fabric of the clothes we wear, we all give off our own individual unique scent underneath all of that. And we all have an ideal scent that makes us feel safe, comforted, that makes us feel all those good things we crave in life. We can settle in those scents, surrounded by them, they make us feel at home. Like we belong there.”

He belonged… like he belonged… he felt that. He felt so strongly that he belonged with Eddie, that everything was right with Eddie in his arms. “That’s—that’s what I felt like, like… I belonged there, like it was right… and when he asked me to—y’know, I barely managed to stop myself.” It felt right to be with him.

It felt wrong to pull away.

“Although I can't speak for him, or make any assumptions as to how he’ll feel after his heat because sometimes it is one sided when the dust settles, he must feel very drawn by your scent too, to be so comfortable around you, to be so responsive, especially so early in his heat, maybe yours might even be his ideal, making you both one of the many ‘scent mates’ who’ve found each other through these clinics. I wouldn’t blame him for being drawn to it though, who doesn’t enjoy a walk past a bakery in the morning?” It was meant as a joke, and maybe if he hadn’t said the first part Steve would have laughed… but he did say the first part.

“…He might not though?”

“It’s possible, just like physical attraction between primary genders, sometimes it’s one sided, with just the Omega’s heat temporarily pushing that attraction on their side to fulfil their instinct to be bred. But you and I both know, Omega’s don’t crave the touch of an Alpha during the first stage of their heat… his response to you is indicative of those going into the third stage, quite the advance given he’s been here only a day.” It wasn’t common.

Owens was right, Steve had tended to many Omega’s in his time at Nest, they all had variety, different behaviours, different traits, but the one thing that stayed the same was… heats progressed as they normally would.

Pre-heat, carb load, insatiable, then recovery.

Each stage had its own kind of behaviours exhibited. Omega’s didn’t want sex during pre-heat, they wanted to prepare, to build a nest, to get comfortable, to feel safe, and in the clinic... to get to know the alpha who'd be helping them.

Eddie just had to be different, didn’t he?

Owens was still talking “—sure, while we were already keeping him under close watch due to his history of violence, for safety reasons we’re going to have to be very careful with you as his assigned Alpha. Be honest with me, Steve… can you handle this?”

“I can handle it. I won’t hurt him.”

“I know you won’t, there's never been a recorded incident between scent mates that makes me think you would. Head to the cafeteria before you make your way back to him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate food when he wakes up.”

“…You’re really letting me stay with him?” With increased security, likely a door guard or two, but still.

“Would any other alpha be safe in there with him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Exactly. Off you go.”

Part 8

#PirateWrites #NestFiclet #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington

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bi-disaster-yn · 1 year

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Female Rage

Paring: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky thinks it’s a success when the team manage to uncover a Hydra human trafficking operation targeting women and girls. Reader knows it’s only a drop in the ocean of patriarchal violence towards women.

A/N: This was very cathartic for me to write. I carry around all these feelings and fanfic allows me to outlet them. Thanks for being part of it <3

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This fic discusses systematic issues around violence towards women and has mentions of trafficking, sexual violence, domestic abuse and murder.

The sirens, the flashing blue lights, and all of the people around you overwhelmed your senses. Your body became a mere vessel which moved without any control or instruction. A part of your soul had died but you had to keep going.

All around you were women and young girls who, just an hour prior, were being held in a lorry and were being trafficked to a covert Hydra base. The purpose of the operation was an early stage attempt to revive the Red Room but with a team of you, Bucky, Sam and Yelena you were able to put a stop to it.

Having managed to track the lorry down to the specific coordinates, you infiltrated the mission. They had been driving on a long and quiet country road, seemingly hidden by the cascades of giant trees in an extensive woodland. A nasty fight with the Hydra agents ensued when you and Yelena caught up with them in an Audi, while Bucky met them head on with a motorcycle and Sam flew in and took the roof. It concluded with them being hauled away in handcuffs but you wish you’d killed them.

Then came the aftermath.

The scene seemed to be carrying on around you without any of your input, as though you could disappear and nothing would have changed. Government officials, policemen and ambulances had arrived to assist in getting these women to safety. You were supposed to be directing them to safe points, instructing the paramedics and police officers on what to do next but the more you tried to focus, the harder it got.

Each time one of the victims thanked you, it sent an ugly shudder down your spine. An abnormally large shaped lump swelled in your throat, rendering a response impossible. All you could offer was a solemn nod, which somehow, they managed to receive your true meaning. An unspoken understanding that could only be shared between women endured throughout all of your exchanges.

Bucky and Sam were still capable of focus as they liaised with officers and helped women, offering more words of encouragement than you or Yelena ever could. Every now and then, Bucky flashed you an encouraging smile, clearly proud of what you were able to achieve today. It was something you couldn’t return.

Ringing in your ears persisted and you flinched as more sirens arrived. You moved without purpose, trying to point in different directions to aid the girls to paramedics if they needed medical attention, and to a police officer if not. Even then, a peculiar feeling churned in your stomach as you stared at the officers, who were all men and mentally cursed that no one in the police department had thought to send any women to this scene. Effectively, it felt like you were passing these girls from one evil, male-dominated organisation to another.

A strong sense of injustice built up tension in your body, harbouring an overpowering reaction, which you were unsure if you could suppress for much longer.

The match in the powder barrel, however, was witnessing a girl who couldn’t have been older than 14 sheltering and comforting two little girls who were terrified and crying for their mother. At first glance, it appeared as though the little ones had no relation to her whatsoever. Yet, this girl had adopted this maternal role which she was far too young to accept. As soon as you saw them safely situated in an ambulance, you decided you couldn’t take this anymore.

Passing by everyone and ignoring calls from Sam, you stormed into the woods, descending deeper and deeper into the trees and the natural beauty of Mother Nature.

You couldn’t remember when you started crying, you just knew that tears streamed down your cheeks. The combination of the tears and the intense headache they brought blurred your vision. You brought your hands to your head and wailed, knowing that no one would hear you.

You thought about how those girls had now secured this trauma and although the Hydra mission hadn’t been completed, this ordeal would alter the courses of their lives forever. This would manifest itself in different ways in all of their lives. They’d never be able to live without the memory of this ever again, tainting their experiences, putting them on their guard, making them cautious of the world and what monsters harboured amongst the humans among them. Honestly, you preferred your chances against Thanos than the men that walked this Earth.

That very concept made you angry. No, not angry. Incandescent.

The lump in your throat was surpassed by a bloodcurdling scream, the sound of which was so terrifying that the birds from the trees desperately flew away in a flock.

It was the only sound that could be heard for miles. All your rage was buried deep inside these woods like it had been in your body for years.

At this moment, this is all you were capable of. You continued to scream despite the scratch it created in your throat, or the fact it had worsened your headache. There was just so much rage contained in your body and you needed to get it out of you, no matter what it took. It was a fury so specific; so intertwined with womanhood and the female experience that no cisgender man could ever comprehend it.

It was female rage.

You were in so much pain. While yesterday you had been wrapped up with Bucky under a blanket, watching TV, eating food, having sex, doing all the normal things one does in a relationship; somewhere else at the same time, this operation was starting. It wouldn’t have been the only one. You were having a carefree day with your boyfriend while elsewhere in the world, men were committing atrocities against women – whether at a systematic level or a domestic one.

You squeezed your eyes shut in aid of your screams. Still without any control, your limbs moved on their own as you started to violently kick and punch one of the trees. Any injury sustained from this frantic display didn’t matter to you. The harsh bark of the tree broke the skin of your knuckles and soon it was decorated with your blood.

The screams and cries persisted as you channelled this anger into the assault of the tree. You were picturing those Hydra agents with the smug grin on their faces. You pictured the man that groped you in the club without your consent on your last girls’ night. You pictured the images of those incels you had curiously watched interviews with but had to turn your laptop off halfway through. You pictured the men who had refurbished the compound and had stared at you as you trained in the garden. You pictured every man who had ever questioned your ability to keep your emotions in check as a female Avenger.

You pictured them all and you desperately wanted them all to know how fucking helpless and infuriating this all felt. You wanted them to feel the weight of the world just as you had done from being a little girl.

Without warning, some force had pulled you back from the tree and had hauled you close into a smothering embrace. In spite of your blurred vision and your relentless howling, you recognised Bucky’s smell immediately as he held you close to his chest, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly together with his vibranium hand and using his flesh one to put your face in his neck. You struggled against him, feeling suffocated and not having abolished nearly as much fury as you needed to.

“Please, doll, please stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bucky mumbled against your forehead, pressing several gentle kisses to it.

Nevertheless, you still fought against him. But Bucky was too strong for you and even in the arms of your beloved, you were still trapped by a man.

“Bucky. Let. Me. Go.” You shakily told him with gritted teeth.

“I’m scared to, sweetheart. Your hands… look at them.” He sobbed back, clearly in distress. A quick glimpse at your hands validated his concern. The skin round your knuckles had been torn open and in amongst the blood and mangled flesh lay splinters and chips from the tree.

It wasn’t sore, but the rest of your body was.

“I don’t understand, doll. Did something happen back there to upset you? You saved those girls. We wouldn’t have been able to do that mission without you.” Bucky said gently, loosening his grip only slightly to cradle you lovingly, rather than to protectively restrain you.

It triggered a scoff and even further anger from you.

“That’s not the point! The point is it keeps happening! We saved those girls today, sure. But somewhere out there, another one of those operations is starting and more girls will be hurt. Those operations are going on round the world, Bucky! They want us to be slaves to them in any way they can think of – whether that is to be used as a weapon or for sex or as working mules!

And these men, they’re so fucking clever! They’re making this untraceable! And we won’t be able to save them all. It’s never-ending, we’re trying to scoop up water from the ocean!”

Whether you intended it or not, the words came out as a yell and Bucky let you go. Clearly, none of this had ever occurred to him and your fury scared him. Meanwhile, your hand gestures went wild as you spoke, your facial expressions became more animated. This was only the beginning as your thoughts continued to spill out to the unassuming and gentle man you loved so much.

“And this? This is worst case scenario! Every single day women are subject to the violence of men! We’ve saved those girls, right? And we’re gonna do what? Give them normal homes so they can walk about with their keys in their hands?! We handed them over to fucking police officers who themselves have a history of being violent towards women. The cycle repeats itself!

That’s not the end of it though, these men are in our homes with us. They are beating us, raping us, killing us. We can’t escape them. The good ones aren’t signposted – we just have to trust you and it is the biggest and deadliest risk that we all take.”

Bucky nodded along with you, processing your words and affording you as much space to speak as possible. At first, he was just relieved that you hadn’t resumed your beating on the tree. Then, he began to really listen to you and consume your words and your fury. It horrified him.

In truth, he always appreciated that there was a disproportionate tendency in violence to women and that the world existed on a patriarchal system and that some men were just sexist pigs. Admittedly, this had gotten a lot better than things were in the 40s. However, he had never truly really given it much thought or considered how to change any of it. That was just the way things were. How does one go about revolutionising an entire system? Especially one that appeared to be changing over time as he had suspected.

He took a step forward, holding his arms out for you in case you needed some sanctuary. It was an offer you refused, standing awkwardly and wiping away your tears with the sleeve of your mission jacket. Attempts to comfort you at this point were futile.

“I’m sorry, doll. I have never thought about it like that. I guess it’s because I’ve never had to.” Bucky began with a sympathetic look. “But you can’t do this all by yourself. You did something so good today and you should be proud of yourself for it.”

You sank to your knees, planting your palms in the dirt below you to try and restore some strength to your frail frame. He was right, but he’d never truly understand.

“I just feel so helpless, Bucky. I feel like I’m drowning and every time I put my head above water, someone pulls me back down again.” You explained with fresh, stinging tears. “I’m a fucking Avenger and even I can’t stop this.”

Bucky knelt on the ground in front of you with a sigh, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn’t make this better for you. It killed him to see his girl so heartbroken and defeated while he could do nothing about it.

“Those girls we saved are going to tell you their stories and you’re going to be upset and you’ll cry for them because you know what it’s like on a human level to be captured and forced to do something you don’t want to do. But you will never understand this pain and fear on a systematic level like I do! To know that you’re inherently in danger just because you were born a woman. I need to stop it. But I don’t know how.”

This time, when Bucky took you in his arms, you let him. The early exertions had exhausted your body and now you were ready to bury your face into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent and feeling safe. The venting had alleviated some of the pain but it still persisted, bubbling discreetly under the surface of your skin, ready to boil again when you were next pushed.

Bucky pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. He appreciated that there was nothing he could say to make you feel better. Instead, he offered himself to you as comfort to take from him what you needed. The real effects of your headache and bloody knuckles came into fruition and you clenched your fists to deal with the physical pain while Bucky rocked you in a comforting motion.

“Promise me one thing, sweetheart?” Bucky asked and took your hum as permission to keep talking. “Promise me that no matter how tough this all gets; you don’t let it consume you. You are the best person I know and I will follow you into any mission, battle or war for this. But please don’t hurt yourself over it or try and deal with it on your own. I love you, please let me help. Tell me how I can be better.”

You held him so tightly that you might crush him, grateful for his support and his pledge of allegiance to your cause. Blinking away tears that threatened to fall you nodded against his neck so that he knew you had understood him.

“I promise. And, Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Just know that all this anger and hatred I have towards men and how they treat us never applies to you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Bucky held you there in that spot in the woods for what felt like hours until he eventually carried you home. Fatigue had overpowered your body but your brain was still active, already plotting and planning what you were going to do next and how you were going to use your Avenger status as an advantage.

You wouldn’t change the system overnight but you were going to do everything in your power to rally up as much support as possible. The pain and anger that was deep rooted inside you was converted to raw energy and you had the appetite to make a difference.

Female rage is a powerful thing.

#bucky barnes #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #fatws bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #female rage #feminist reader

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kaleldobrev · 5 months

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Nice to Meet You (1) — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x)

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy chapter one! | I'll be creating a masterlist for this pretty soon | Let me know if you have any theories about what's going to happen next | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Read the Prologue Here

"I honestly can't believe this is happening," you said, your head in your hands. This was the fifth death at your shelter in less than a month, and you were honestly starting to feel like either yourself or the place was cursed. But you didn't know what could have possibly changed within the amount of time you've had this shelter. You've had this shelter for almost four years, and this was the first time that something awful had happened here; the last month being a literal living Hell.

You were particularly hard on yourself when it came to these deaths as they all happened while you were in the building, on your watch; and you felt as if you could have somehow stopped them, but you knew there was nothing you could have done. You've never fought in your life, nor have you ever used a gun, you were completely useless in a fight.

Due to the deaths, many of the teens in the shelter, along with some of the staff and volunteers had been talking about leaving, and it was something that you didn't blame them for. They trusted you, and you felt like you had completely disrupted their trust, despite you not being the cause of these deaths. But they came to your shelter for safety, and safety was something that they were currently not feeling.

There was a knock at your office door, and when you looked up, you noticed your friend Mel in the doorway, slight smile on her face. "Y/N, there are two FBI agents here that want to speak with you," she said.

"Fuck," you mumbled, "the FBI are involved now?" You said, exasperated. "Jesus," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. "Okay, send them in."

"Can do," Mel smiled.

"Really happy Y/N was able to start this place up," Dean said as him and Sam looked around waiting for Mel to come back.

"I am too. It's something she always talked about," Sam said, but he knew that he didn't have to tell Dean that, as he knew just as well as he did; as the both of them could recall numerous conversations in which the three of you would discuss you opening up a place like this.

"Y/N can talk to you now. Her office is just back there. Her name is on the door, you can't miss it," Mel smiled.

"Thank you," Sam nodded.

As Sam and Dean started to walk toward your office door, Sam felt as if his heart was beating a million miles an hour. Dean stopped in the middle of the hallway, stopping his younger brother from walking any further by placing his hand out in front of him. "You sure you're gonna be okay? Look I'll admit, it was a bit of a dick move of me to do this," Dean admitted.

"It's fine, honestly," Sam reassured. "I just want to make sure she's okay...given the circumstances...especially since it's her birthday," he slightly rambled.

"About that, don't even mention that it's her birthday," Dean said. "Because as far as she's concerned, she has no fucking clue who we are and we have no reason to know it's her birthday." Sam was about to open up his mouth to protest, but he decided against it, as there was a part of him that had wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

Another knock came at your door and when you looked up, it was the two FBI agents that Mel had mentioned to you. "Ms. Y/L/N?" the blonde-haired agent asked you.

"Yes, that's me," you replied, getting up from the chair. "But please call me —”

"Y/N," the taller brunette one interjected. You looked at him with a slightly confused expression, and you couldn't help but notice that his blonde-haired partner gave him an almost similar looking expression. "Your name. It's uh...on the...on the door," he slightly rambled, gesturing toward the sign outside of your door.

"Oh my gosh, yes, it is!" You exclaimed, almost slightly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. This last month has honestly been one of the worst months of my life. I’d probably lose track of my own head if it weren’t attached to me.”

Both men gave you both smiles, humoring your joke. “I can imagine,” the blonde agent said. “And I’m sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances.”

“Definitely,” you said. “Oh how rude of me, I don’t think I caught your names.”

“Agents Sam and Dean Campbell, no relation,” Dean said, holding up his badge. He nudged Sam, who appeared to be the more nervous of the two. With that single nudge, Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his badge, flashing it to you.

“Nice to meet you Sam and Dean,” you said, trying to smile again. “Mel told me you two wanted to talk to me about…the deaths here at the shelter.”

“Yes, if you don’t mind answering a few questions of course,” Sam said, giving you a gentle smile, a smile that somehow made you feel at ease.

“Of course. I want to catch the bastard who did these to my kids,” your voice slightly angry. “Pardon my French.”

“All good,” Sam answered, reassuring you.

“We’ve heard worse,” Dean added. Especially from you, he wanted to add.

“Oh I’m sure, considering the line of work you two are in,” you smiled.

“So, Miss. Y/L/N, did any of these victims have anything in common besides the fact that they were all runaways?” Sam asked, his voice genuinely filled with concern.

You shook your head. “Not really. I mean, yeah, they had a few things in common like favorite shows, games. But all five of them came from vastly different backgrounds.”

“Did any of them do or say anything that seemed out of the ordinary before they died?” Dean asked.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Like speak a language you haven’t heard them speak before, draw any interesting looking symbols,” Dean said, rattling these things off as if it were second nature to him.

You raised a brow at his answer, finding it a bit odd. “Um, not that I can think of,” you admitted, sounding a little hesitant and slightly confused. “They were all really, really good kids. They didn't mess with...the occult if that's what you're implying. None of my kids to."

"No, that's not what we're implying at all," Sam interjected.

"Then what are you implying?" You asked, a bit of defensiveness in your voice.

"We're just trying to figure out why these five were chosen in particular," Sam began, his voice sounding relatively calm. "The way they were found and the way they were killed it resembles occult practices."

You sighed. "I'm sorry," you said, your head in your hands again. "I'm just so angry. I don't understand why people would target teenagers. Especially killing them in that way. I mean, who the fuck drains blood like that?"

"That's why we're here Y/N," Sam spoke again, and you raised your head to look at him. "Is there anyone you could think of that might be involved?"

You shook your head. "No. All of my volunteers and staff I vetted myself. All of their intentions are good."

Sam and Dean both nodded. "Is there a way we could get a copy of who was in the building during the time of the murders?" Dean asked.

"Of course," you agreed. "Anything both of you need in order to figure out who did this."

“You know, I was really expecting you to hug her,” Dean said, as the two of them entered their motel room.

“I know how to be professional Dean,” Sam scoffed.

“You know, after this is all over, maybe you could ask her out. I’m sure she’ll say yes,” Dean grinned.

“She’s better off without me Dean,” Sam said opening up his laptop. “Besides, last thing she needs is me lying to her about me being in the FBI.”

“You could always tell her the truth,” Dean suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“That would not be a good idea and you know that,” Sam scoffed.

“It’s not like this stuff is new to her man,” Dean said.

“The deal was, she forgets everything about hunting. That included the whole monsters are real thing,” Sam stated. “Honestly, asking her out again would be too much of a risk.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“What if the demon finds out and she drops dead?” Sam questioned.

“The deal was she forgets you. Doesn’t mean you couldn’t still ask her out,” Dean said. “Besides, you’re fucking miserable without her, and you can’t tell me differently.” The past four years without you had truly affected Sam in ways that he didn’t think, and it was something that not only Dean had noticed, but Jack and Cas as well. Sam didn’t think Dean knew about how he constantly still looks at pictures of you, or constantly listens to the last voicemail you had left him, or how he constantly watches your favorite movies or tv shows over and over again. But these were things that Dean had known about, as he himself found himself reminiscing about things you and him had done together. Inside jokes between the two of you, or how you would help him be his wingwoman on occasion. “I just haven’t seen you happy in a long time.”

“It’s better this way. She’s…she’s not in danger anymore,” Sam said, his voice defeated. He was miserable without you, but you being safe was all that mattered to him.

In the next chapter...

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked her. “I have literally never met Sam or Dean before this.”

“Aw sweetheart, but you have. But, it’s not really your fault for not remembering, that’s what the deal was,” she said.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @midorimachisenpaii @sammysnaughtygirl @missscarlettangel @frozenhuntress67 @snakebxtez @crystalandphoebewifey @coldspoons If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#Sam Winchester x you #Sam Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #Sam x you #Sam x reader #reader insert #female reader

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blackopals-world · 8 months

Text

Little Imp Delivery Service

Delivery person!Yuu and Sam (platonic)

Ace x Yuu (a little bit)

Sam sends his worker out to deliver to Octavinelle.

@somany-fandoms-solittle-time

Yuu had just set out their latest pair of skates down to dry. They had just finished painting a cool skeleton foot design on them with glow-in-the-dark paint. They would match their glowing skeleton hoodie perfectly. Just until after dark it's going to look so cool.

Yuu grinned maniacally as a buzzer went off. They glared at the red light as they dusted themselves off.

They spent downtime in the storage room they had converted into an "office" at the shop. The buzzer meant that they had a delivery to make.

They stretched as they grabbed a different set of roller blades off the rack. It was an impressive collection of customized skates Yuu had made.

Sam waited behind the counter as Yuu closed the door.

"Theirs my little Imp. I have a order straight from here to Octavinelle. Azul needs new glassware." Sam had a smile like a cat who ate a fat pigeon. He must have got a good deal.

Yuu cringed. They knew this delivery was going to be a problem. Azul doesn't make orders like this unless Floyd caused a mess and was having a mood swing. Second, since Jade wasn't picking it up it meant both twins were on the loose. Which meant that they needed to avoid the twins at all costs because the glass was fragile.

Sam boxed up the glasses and handed it to Yuu so they could put them in the carrier bag.

"Now before you go. Uniform," Sam said holding out the apron.

Yuu hated the apron.

It was a black apron with purple lettering "Little Imp Delivery" with a devil tail in the back. Yuu had personalized it with buttons and stickers but it was still embarrassing.

Yuu reluctantly put it on as a shadow fussed with their hair.

"You dyed it again I see." Sam smirked.

"I'm sure your friends on the other side already told you," Yuu said with their eyes.

"Use your words," Sam said shrugging.

Yuu rolled their eyes and signed instead. It's not like they couldn't speak it's just that signing was easier. But not sighing was the easiest. It's not like they had anything to say.

"Good Imp!" Sam said ushering Yuu out.

Yuu took a sucker from the shelf on the way out.

Grape flavor. Yum. Doesn't taste like grape but it sure tastes like purple.

Just as Yuu sat to put on their blades Sam returned, placing a helmet on Yuu's head and dropping their arm and knee pads on the ground.

"Safety first!" He said before going back inside.

Yuu stuck out their tongue as they put on their gear.

And they were off zipping through campus. Ducking and dodging students.

Yuu picked up speed as they neared a staircase. Yuu jumped and grinded down holding the railing. I was amazing until they realized they were going too fast and flying down.

Fortunately they were caught before eating ground. By Ace.

"Woah! Watch out!" He said clumsy holding Yuu up as their feet scrambled to get footing while on wheels.

Yuu sighed in relief as they righted themselves.

Ace really saved their ass. Oh shit the glass?!

Yuu immediately checked the delivery witch was thankfully safe. Yuu sighed again as the ecstaticly kissed Ace's cheek before skating off again.

Ace flushed pink.

"Oh, okay. Thanks. I mean you're welcome. I man be careful!"

Yuu didn't hear him, too busy.

Yuu took a deep breath as they entered Octavinelle. They need to be careful. The eels were still on the loose somewhere. If they were lucky they would be taking a swim and if they were unlucky (which they were known to be) then they'd find Yuu.

Yuu had to make it to the lounge quickly and find Azul. Once Azul signed for the delivery everything was out of Yuu's hands. But getting past the guard dogs was the only issue.

It was like they sensed Yuu entering the threshold.

"Black Bee Shrimp~"

Yuu needed to skate faster. They could hear him. Damn, Floyd's parents for making him so fucking tall!

"Come on Shrimpy! I just wanna play!" Floyd yelled running after Yuu.

Yuu turned a corner and almost ran into Jade who smiled creepily.

Now they were sandwiched between two eels who both getting closer. Yuu had no choice as they skated towards Jade before ducking and sliding under him and continuing towards the lounge.

They could hear Floyd loudly complaining that they got away.

Yuu escaped being fish food today.

Yuu confidently entered the lounge and putting down the package as they ignored the glass shards everywhere.

"Delivery for Azul" Yuu said stiffly, voice scratchy.

Azul came out, his hair messy and eyebrows furrowed.

Yuu held out the table for signing.

As Azul sighed Yuu typed something out on their phone.

"You have mess on your hands. Looks like the eels aren't going to be much help. I brought along a premium Magic Vac 7500. It could do the cleaning for you." Yuu smiled pleasantly taking out the vacuum.

"How much is it going to cost me?" Azul rolled his eyes already knowing this shtick.

"Just for you since you are in such need, 8500 modles. 10% off." Yuu smirked.

"You really are just like that shop keeper. 8000, and you've got a deal." Azul said sliding the table back.

"You've got a deal, Ashengrotto. It been a pleasure and thank you again for using Little Imp Delivery Service." Yuu said taking the money and bowing.

(You gotta upsell baby! Make your father proud!)

#delivery person!Yuu #ace trapolla x yuu #twst ace #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #tweels #jade leech #twst jade #floyd twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland azul #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu

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tonyspank · 8 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: kissing, fluff, short chapter because i want u guys to be happy one last time

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

It's been seven months since Tara and Sam brought you back to their community. You've settled into a routine and formed close bonds with the people there. Life has become more stable, and you feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. The community has become your new family, and you couldn't be more grateful for Tara and Sam.

Sometimes you'd go on supply runs; other times you'd take out groups of walkers, clearing the area around the community to ensure everyone's safety. The once terrifying world has become a place where you can make a difference, and you're determined to protect your new family at all costs.

You've grown close to Sidney, Tara, and Ethan the most. Sidney has become the aunt you've never had, always offering wise advice and comforting you during tough times. Ethan has become like a brother to you, always looking out for your well-being and making sure you never feel alone.

While Tara...she's... you don't even know how to explain it. She's a close friend, but at times it feels like there's something more to that, a deeper connection that you can't quite put into words. There's a magnetic pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that transcends friendship. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you questioning the boundaries of your relationship and what it could potentially become.

But, you don't want to risk anything. Especially since Iris is here. It feels weird to move on from her because, since the start of this apocalypse, the only thing you could think of was Iris and how much you missed your girlfriend. But, it doesn't seem like she feels the same way. You'd catch her and Chad being intimate and affectionate, making it clear that she has moved on.

Heather told you that Chad and Iris have been a complicated couple since they met at the community. Iris was stuck on you while Chad was pursuing her relentlessly. He even saved her life one day on a dangerous mission, which made her start to develop feelings for him. It's painful to accept, but it seems like Iris has found happiness with Chad, and it's time for you to do the same.

It's hard to accept that Iris has chosen someone else, but you know deep down that you can't force someone to feel a certain way. You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly and reciprocates your feelings. It may be difficult now, but with time, you will find someone who appreciates and cherishes you just as much as you do them.

"Ouch!" You grunt out, landing on your back. Ethan smiles at you, panting as he holds out a hand to help you up. You send him a playful glare before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up. "How are you so good at close-range combat?"

You ask, still catching your breath. Ethan chuckles and says, "Cop dad. He taught me a few moves growing up," he explains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "But ever since, you know, the dead and stuff, he's been on my ass about it."

You hum in response, "That's nice. Officer Bailey seems like a nice guy...when he's not sulking around the place." Ethan nods in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, he's been through a lot. Losing Mom really hit him hard. But he's trying his best to keep us safe and sane in this messed up world."

You give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight Officer Bailey carries on his shoulders. Despite the tough exterior, you can see the love and dedication he has for his family.

"C'mon! Chop, chop." Dewey says, interrupting your conversation and urging you two to spar more. You and Ethan exchange a knowing glance before playfully rolling your eyes at Dewey's impatience. You hold up your fists again, ready to continue the sparring session.

After about twenty more minutes of sparring, the session is finally over, and you're sitting cross-legged on the grass, catching your breath. Dewey walks over, a satisfied grin on his face, and pats both you and Ethan on the back. "Great job, guys," he says. "You're really improving." You exchange a proud smile with Ethan as Dewey walks away.

"I have a very serious question." You look at Ethan, curious about what he's going to ask. "What is it?" you reply, eager to hear what's on his mind. "Did you take my pudding from inventory?" You raise an eyebrow in surprise at Ethan's question. "Your pudding? No, I didn't take it," you answer honestly, wondering why he would think that.

Ethan thins out his lips, eyeing you suspiciously. He then sighs as he senses your genuine confusion. "It must've been Chad then! Ever since we've been returning from supply runs, every single one of my sweet snacks has disappeared." You tilt your head, considering Ethan's accusation. "Chad? Are you sure it's him?" you ask, curious about the possible culprit.

Ethan nods, frustration evident on his face. "I've noticed him eyeing my snacks before, and he always seems to have a guilty look when I ask about them," he explains. You hum a bit before turning your head to Tara, who was walking down the community's street, looking bored as ever.

"I'll talk to you later, E." Ethan nods in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you jog over to Tara. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, what's up?" Tara responds, smiling at you. "Not much, just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out outside the walls for a bit." Tara shrugs, her smile never fading. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool, let me just shower, and I'll be ready to go." You quickly make your way back to your house, taking a quick shower before meeting up with Tara again. She greets you with a warm smile, her excitement evident in her eyes. "Ready?" she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, "Mhm." You wave at Officer Hicks, who salutes back to you, opening the gate for you and Tara to exit the walls. You and Tara start walking away from the community, stealing glances at each other every now and then.

"I actually have a surprise for you." You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Tara raises an eyebrow, looking at you. Curiosity sparkles in her eyes as she waits for you to reveal the surprise. "Well, remember how you mentioned you liked horror movies?" you begin, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I found this abandoned movie theatre not too far from here. Ethan helped me clean it up and fix the projector. We can have our own private horror movie marathon today."

Tara's eyes widen with thrill as she realizes the surprise. "You're lying!" she exclaims, her smile matching your mischievous grin. The two of you quicken your pace, eager to reach the movie theatre and begin your thrilling movie night.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask Tara in a Ghostface mask, trying your best to imitate the iconic killer from the Stab franchise. Tara giggles and playfully pretends to be scared, but then responds, "Hmm, I think I'll have to go with It Follows. Elevated horror is where it's at."

You take off the mask, tilting your head. "Really? Elevated horror? What about Friday the 13th? Jason is a classic." Tara shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure, Jason is iconic, but I prefer the psychological depth and thought-provoking themes of films like It Follows. It's all about the slow-burning suspense for me."

"You're lucky you're cute." Tara chuckles and playfully nudges you. "Well, I guess my good looks give me an advantage in our horror movie debates." She winks, teasingly adding, "But hey, maybe one day I'll convince you to appreciate elevated horror too."

"Blah, blah, blah." You say, walking further into the movie theatre, ending up at a snack bar. You lean against it as Tara continues her argument about elevated horror. "Jason is just a mindless slasher. It Follows actually makes you think and keeps you on the edge of your seat." Tara playfully sticks her tongue out at you, daring you to challenge her taste in horror movies.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Please, Tara. A classic slasher film like Friday the 13th is a timeless masterpiece. It's all about the thrill and suspense, not overanalyzing every single detail. But hey, I'll give It Follows a chance if it means shutting you up for once." Tara giggles, knowing that you're just playing along and secretly enjoying the ongoing debates between you two.

You turn around, facing the snack bar, and reach for the old and expired candy box, that's probably been there since before the apocalypse. Your heart skips a beat when Tara does the same, your hands touching.

You both exchange a quick glance, causing a slight blush to creep onto your cheeks. It's in these small moments that you realize there might be something more than just friendly banter between you and Tara.

"You can have them." You tell Tara, chuckling a bit. She smiles, placing the box of candy in your hand. "Take them." You shake your head, "No, uh," you interrupt yourself with your own laugh. "If you want them, you have them." You set down the box of candy in front of Tara, who quickly picks it up, holding it in front of you.

"You think I want these?" Tara raises an eyebrow playfully, her eyes sparkling. She breaks eye contact with you as you stare at her, a lingering smile on your face. "Kind of..."

"They're like one hundred years old." she jokes, setting them back down. "Maybe that's your thing," she mutters, finally glancing back at your eyes.

The two of you stare at each other, caught in a moment of playful tension. The air between you is charged with unspoken words and a hint of curiosity. It's as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing the anticipation to build. Both of you are aware of the unspoken connection, wondering where it might lead.

It's been a while since you've been truly happy with someone, so happy that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, so lost in the trance of the woman in front of you. She was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect eyebrows, her perfect eyes, her perfect nose, her perfect lips. Everything about her seemed meticulously crafted to perfection.

You smile wider at yourself, glancing between her eyes and her lips. Tara's heart has never felt this alive, pulsating with newfound energy. She knows she's attracted to you, that much is sure, but there's something more than just physical attraction.

It's the way you listen intently to every word she says and the way you laugh at her jokes as if they're the funniest things you've ever heard. There's a connection between you that goes beyond surface-level beauty, and it's that deep emotional bond that truly sets you apart from anyone else she's ever met.

But she's also scared. She's scared to get attached to you more than she already is and lose you to the walkers that lurk in the shadows. The fear of losing you to something beyond her control haunts her, making her hesitant to fully embrace the connection she feels.

She knows that the world is unpredictable and filled with dangers, and the thought of losing you to those uncertainties terrifies her. It's not that she doesn't want to fully embrace the connection, but rather, she's grappling with her own vulnerabilities and the fear of being left alone in a world that feels increasingly unstable.

However, another part of her says to do it. Take the risk and allow her to be happy, even if it's just for a second. Tara takes a deep breath, "I actually—"

She's cut off by you connecting your lips with hers, and in that moment, all her fears and uncertainties melt away. The warmth of your embrace reassures her that maybe, just maybe, taking the risk was worth it after all. Her hands grip your face, pulling you closer if that were possible, you wrap your arms around her body, holding her tightly as if she's going to fade away.

As your lips part, an intoxicating sense of contentment lingers in the air. Tara stares into your eyes, a hint of tears reflecting the depth of her gratitude. In that electrifying moment, she realizes that she has found something she never thought possible—a passion that is boundless and worth every ounce of risk. With a smile curving on her lips, she whispers, "What took you so long?"

You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I finally thought of that heartfelt thank you," you reply, your voice filled with bliss. Tara giggles, her laughter filling the air like music. "I can't believe you remember that."

She leans in closer, bringing you into another quick and simple kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes glance between yours, her hand trailing your facial features. "I'm scared of losing you."

You gently take her hand in yours, reassuringly squeezing it. "I promise you, Tara, I'm not going anywhere," you say sincerely, your voice filled with love and determination. She smiles softly, her fears momentarily eased by your words.

"I actually do have a question." You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue. "Was...Iris the only person you had before...the outbreak?" You pause for a moment, memories of the past flooding your mind.

"Kind of...yeah. It's always just been Iris and her family. I actually met Iris a few months after my adoptive mother passed away...she was the first person I connected with after such a difficult loss. We quickly became each other's support system, and we started dating a bit after that.." You pause, a bittersweet smile on your face, as you recall the bond you share with Iris. "I'm just glad she's okay."

Tara nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Thank you for telling me." You appreciate Tara's empathy and the safe space she has created for you to share your story. It feels good to have someone who listens and understands without judgment.

"You're finally back!" Heather says, bursting through your front door. You turn toward Heather, a smile spreading across your face. "I am." Heather lets out a loud groan, "Then can you please watch Iris? I'm supposed to be hanging out with Amber."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's wrong with Iris?" You ask, concerned about Heather's sudden change in attitude towards Iris. Heather sighs and rolls her eyes, "She's sick, and she's been acting really cranky all day. I just need a break from her for a little while. So! Now that you're off your date with tiny Tara, can you watch her?"

You blush, "It wasn't a date," you mutter, not convincing Heather one bit. "But sure, I can watch Iris for a bit. Is there anything specific I should know or do while taking care of her?"

Heather shakes her head and says, "Not really, just make sure she takes her medicine and gets plenty of rest. She's been running a fever, so keep an eye on that too." You nod, assuring Heather that you'll take good care of Iris.

Heather exits your house, causing Amber to rise, "She said yes?" Amber asks her girlfriend, who nods in response. "Mhm," Amber continues, "I can't believe you're still trying to play cupid with Y/N and Iris. I'm pretty sure Y/N really likes Tara."

"Well, you never know. Sometimes feelings can change unexpectedly. Besides, Y/N did agree to take care of Iris, so maybe there's still a chance for them." Amber rolls her eyes playfully and says, "Sure, babe."

You knock on Iris's door, and a faint, "Come in." follows your knock. As you enter, you see Iris lying in bed, a wet washcloth on her forehead. You walk over to Iris and ask, "How are you feeling?" She looks up at you with a weak smile and replies, "I'm still not feeling great, but the washcloth is helping a bit." You sit down beside her and say, "I brought you some soup. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

You help her sit up, supporting her back with a pillow. Iris gratefully accepts the soup and takes a few spoonfuls, savoring the warmth and nourishment. She looks at you appreciatively and says, "Thank you so much for taking care of me." You smile and reassure her, "Of course, I'll always be here for you."

"Did Heather set you up to this?" She asks, a faint smile on her lips. You chuckle and shake your head, "Yeah, but still, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Iris's smile widens, and she says, "Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Remember when Heather got sick and we all took turns taking care of her? It's nice to see that we have each other's backs." Iris says, not making eye contact with you. You start laughing, And it turns out she was faking the whole thing."

Iris's brows furrow, "What?" Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. "Yeah, she admitted it later. I didn't know she didn't tell you." Iris's smile fades, replaced by a look of disbelief. "I can't believe she would do something like that. That's really messed up."

"I mean...she did have to run the mile that day, I'd do the same thing." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we all have our own ways of avoiding running." Iris chuckles, shaking her head. "Yeah, but faking sick behind my back? That's a whole new level." You both laugh, finding peace in the moment.

Iris puts down her soup and stares at you. "You look happy." You smile back at Iris and reply, "Yeah, I guess I am. It feels good to just relax and have a laugh with you. You look like shit, though."

Iris chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks, I appreciate the honesty. It's been a rough day." You nod sympathetically, understanding that it's because of her sickness. "Maybe you should try and sleep." You suggest, helping her lie back down. Iris sighs and nods, her eyes showing exhaustion.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I could use some rest." You tuck her in and dim the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep," you offer, hoping to provide some comfort during her rough day.

"You could lay down too..." Iris mumbles, her voice trailing off as she starts to drift off. You hesitate for a moment, considering her suggestion, before deciding to join her. As you lie down next to her, you feel a sense of closeness and reassurance, knowing that your presence brings her some ease.

Iris places her head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The sound lulls her into a deeper state of relaxation, and you can feel her tension slowly melting away. You gently stroke her hair, and mutter, "You better not get me sick."

Iris chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you if that happens."

When Iris finally falls asleep, it's late at night. You slip from her grasp and leave, making your way to the inventory to see if there's any tea that could help her. Your heart drops when you see a figure standing in the dimly lit room, their back turned towards you.

They turn around quickly, and you let out a sigh, allowing yourself to relax. "Richie, you scared the hell out of me." Richie chuckles and apologizes, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you." Your eyes fall to the basket in his hands.

He notices speaking up, "Gale asked me to get this." You hum, "Do you have any tea? Iris is sick." Richie nods sympathetically and says, "Yeah, yeah. Here." He reaches into the basket and hands you a small packet of tea. "I hope this helps," he says with a warm smile.

Richie then walks away, basket in hand, leaving you standing there, thankful and confused. Maybe he was the one who stole Ethan's snacks.

#reader insert #wattpad #tonyspank #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega fluff #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x g!p reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter fluff

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fazbear-security · 6 months

Text

((So about that fanfic cover art...))

#mun’s art #Puppet #Mike Schmidt #Safety Officer Sam #fanfic: Soul Shift

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

Text

Let's Talk About That Chapter 5

Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: This chapter deals with the bombing scene that happens during CACW.

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: Things are about to get angsty from here, so you better buckle up everyone!

May 21st 2016

Your day had started off like any other. You woke up in your room where Wanda had stayed with you. It had become a common occurrence for the two of you to spend the night in each other's room. You gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before slipping out of bed. Wanda stirred only slightly as she readjusted herself, taking in a deep breath before letting it out as she settled in once more making you smile before heading off to take a shower and get your day started.

By the time you were getting dressed about an hour later, Wanda stirred awake. Sitting up with messy bedhead and rubbing her sleep filled eyes she still managed to look beautiful. You smiled as you made your way over, kissing the top of her head.

“Good morning krasivaya(beautiful).” You knew several languages before meeting Wanda, Russian included, and she promised some day to help you learn Sokovian. She beamed a still sleep filled smile up at you.

“Good morning. Are you off to work?” She asks, looking over your appearance.

“Yes sweet girl I've got an early appointment with Sam today. He wanted to switch his appointments to before his morning training.” Wanda simply nods and leans against your stomach, breathing in your scent.

“I'll see you later, right?” She asks looking up at you.

“Of course, sweet girl. We'll see each other for dinner and sitcoms, okay?” you reassure her.

“Okay I'll see you then.” She's smiling once more and pulling you down into a kiss before she lays back down and gets all comfy as she grabs her phone for some morning wake up time as you exit the room.

It was just past noon. You had already done a few sessions for the day and just finished eating lunch. You'd been working on going over the notes for the next session of the day so you knew where you had left off last time with them. Though you were interrupted by Natasha coming through your door.

"Y/N, I need you to come with me." Natasha states. You sigh, looking up from your work, pushing your glasses up.

"What is it? I thought you were getting ready for Vienna?" You asked with a bit of venom. You haven't been talking since she decided she was on Tony's side and would be the representative for going to sign the accords on behalf of the Avengers.

"I was, something else has come up. A bit of an emergency. Steve is already there." She tells you and you shoot up from your seat.

"I'll be ready in 10." You tell her. Hurrying out of your office to go find Wanda.

"Hey sweetie what's up?" She asks when you barge into her room.

"Nat is taking me on an emergency mission. Apparently Steve is already headed out. I don't know how long I'll be gone for. I didn't have time to ask." You take three big strides towards her, wrapping her up into your arms. "I love you." You tell her.

"I love you too. Be safe." She says back. The two of you share a kiss and if you had known that would be the last time you'd get to kiss her you would have never let her go.

======================================================

The urgency in Natasha's demeanor was palpable as you swiftly made your way to the rendezvous point. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at your gut, a foreboding sense of impending danger hanging heavy in the air.

As you boarded the Quinjet with Natasha and soared through the skies towards your destination, your mind raced with possibilities, each one more ominous than the last. You couldn't help but worry about Wanda, her safety and well-being weighing heavily on your mind. The last thing you had wanted was to leave her right now while the team was in shambles from fighting on opposite sides. A civil war brewing just under the surface of the cold war that was currently taking place. Both sides ready, but neither willing to make the first move yet.

Natasha remained stoic beside you, her focus unwavering as she piloted the aircraft with practiced ease. You admired her composure, her ability to maintain her resolve even in the face of uncertainty.

The minutes stretched into hours as you flew towards your unknown destination, the tension in the air palpable. With each passing moment, your concern for Wanda grew, a knot of worry tightening in my chest.

May 22nd 2016

As you finally touched down and prepared to embark on your mission, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that lingered in the pit of your stomach. Whatever awaited you on the other side, you knew that you would do whatever it took to ensure the safety of those you cared about, no matter the cost.

Natasha took you to a safe house. Made you get dressed in a nice suit, while she slipped into a dress. Both of you in black. She grabbed the two of you a rental car and before you knew it you were in front of a church. "Tasha? What are we doing here? This looks like a funeral." You state.

"That's because it is. Peggy Carter. Steve's first love all the way back from his days before being a super soldier. I figured he'd need us as a support system." Normally you'd be mad that Tasha didn't just tell you outright, especially with everything going on, but she's right. He does need you two. So you simply nod and get out of the car. Looking like another set of people Peggy had met over the years.

As you entered the church, a solemn atmosphere enveloped you, the air heavy with grief and reverence. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you thought of Peggy Carter, a woman whose legacy loomed large in the lives of those she had touched. Funerals were never a good place for you. Too much emotion that you could feel from every direction, making you feel sick and overwhelmed.

Steve stood near the front of the church, his expression a mask of sorrow as he greeted mourners and offered his condolences. Your heart ached for him, knowing the depth of his loss and the pain he must be feeling.

Natasha and you quietly make your way towards him, offering our support in the only way you knew how. You stood by his side, wordless gestures of solidarity as you paid our respects to Peggy and mourned her passing.

In that moment, amidst the somber surroundings and the weight of your grief, you felt a sense of unity with your teammates, a bond forged through shared trials and tribulations. Together, you would weather this storm, drawing strength from each other as you faced the challenges that lay ahead.

After the funeral you talked with Steve and Tasha asked you to stay with her as her body guard of sorts. Obviously with the Accords signing there could be trouble from anyone or anything. You really didn't want to since you were against signing them, but Steve urged you as well. Safety in numbers and telling you, "Nat is doing what she thinks is right. You're doing what you think is right, but she's still your best friend." You wanted to argue because let's face it. You're 20 and she's 31 she shouldn't be your best friend, but over the time of being in the Avengers she had become your best friend with movie nights, girl time, shopping trips, dinners, sleepovers. It didn't make sense, but it also somehow did.

So you agreed to go with her. You sat in front with her this time, not knowing how to fly, but just watching and admiring her. "I can teach you some day." She mentions when she notices you watching.

"Oh no I don't...I'd rather not. I don't even have my regular license." You remind her.

"We should fix that too." Tasha says.

"It scares me." You admit and Tasha chuckles.

"You've gone against monsters and aliens and gods and that's what scares you?" She asks and you nod. "You're something else, little bee." You smiled at your nickname she had given you after she found you watching a documentary about bees and you were crying over how bumblebees shouldn't be able to fly because of how fat they are. "You're thinking about the bees again aren't you?"

"They're so fat!" You cry out and she laughs.

"You're the cutest, you know that right?" She tells you and you feel your face heat up.

"What? No...no not me..." you can see her smirk, but she doesn't press me further.

=============================

You were at the Accords meeting as you stayed close to Tasha. She talked with T'Challa for a bit. You told him if he needed to talk to someone he could always call and have a virtual session with you. He gave a polite smile and thanked us. Tasha and you headed to your seats towards the back of the room. When you sat your leg started bouncing like crazy which you didn't notice until she put a hand on it. Your head snapped to her hand and then to her face.

"I know things like this aren't your thing. You prefer to stay behind the scenes, but I appreciate you being here. More than you understand." She speaks softly and before you can respond the meeting is starting. T'Challa's father T'Chaka, is speaking, thanking the Avengers. As he carries on the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, you get goosebumps and without a second thought you throw up a force field around the floor as T'Challa calls out, "Everybody get down!" and an explosion goes off. Even with your force field you still end up grabbing and holding Tasha as if your small frame would protect her.

"Are you okay?" You ask her first.

"I'm fine."

"Is everyone okay?" You called out. Most people are but the explosion still rocked the building. People had stumbled or got pushed away by your force field. You can only make it so big. "I need all available medics and fire to the scene now!" You call through the ear piece you were given earlier in the day.

As chaos erupted in the aftermath of the explosion, Natasha and you found yourselves caught in the flurry of activity. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your focus remained steadfast on ensuring Natasha's safety.

"I'm fine," she reassured you, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding us.

Relieved by her response, you quickly surveyed the scene, calling out for assistance and coordinating with emergency responders through the earpiece. The force field you had instinctively erected provided a barrier of protection, but you knew that the situation remained volatile.

"We need to get out of here," Natasha urged, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger.

Nodding in agreement, you took her hand and guided her towards the nearest exit, maintaining a vigilant watch for any potential threats. The air was thick with tension as you navigated through the chaos, the weight of the unfolding events pressing upon us.

Once outside, you breathed a sigh of relief, the cool air offering a brief respite from the chaos within. But even as you moved to a safer location, you knew that the danger was far from over. With the Accords meeting descending into chaos, the fragile peace you had hoped to achieve seemed to slip further from your grasp.

As emergency responders rushed to the scene, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you. The events of the evening had underscored the precarious nature of our existence as Avengers, and the challenges that lay ahead seemed daunting.

But amidst the uncertainty, one thing remained clear: you would do whatever it took to protect those you cared about, no matter the cost. And as you stood by Natasha's side, facing an uncertain future, you knew that your bond would be your greatest strength in the days to come.

Tasha held a cold Gatorade against my face, "Here. Drink." It was my favorite flavor which means she had brought it with her. You smile and take it, after a few gulps she hands me a baggie filled with your favorite after mission snacks, ones that help me replenish your energy.

"You packed this with you?"

"Of course. I always do. Just in case."

"Why?"

"Y/N. You always take care of us and sometimes you forget about your own self-care. It's okay because I'll remind you and help pick up the slack." Tasha smiles at you and you smile back.

"You know, through everything going on...I'm still so thankful that I took the job when Tony offered it. I never wanted to be an Avenger. It just fell in my lap. All I ever wanted was to just be a psychiatrist. To help people. I know I'm still doing that, but it's not what I had envisioned for my future, ya know?" She wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you close.

"I know. I'm glad you're here with me. Through all of this. You'll stay with me right?" She asks. You take in a shaky breath. You consider it, but you remember Wanda back at home waiting.

"But...Wanda..."

"She's safe. She's at the compound." Tasha says and you nod. You want to say no, but you don't think you've ever said no to Tasha. Especially not when she needs you.

"I can stay, I just...can I call Wanda? Let her know I'm okay? I'm sure this is all over the news by now." Tasha hands me the phone and you call the familiar number.

"Y/N!? Please tell me you're okay!?" She cries through the phone.

"I'm fine, baby girl. Don't worry. Tasha and I are safe. So are most people who were on the floor. I threw up my force field. I know I didn't get everyone in time, but I saved a lot more who would have died." You run your fingers through your hair. Tasha's hand on your back.

"Are you coming home?" She asks and you sigh.

"I can't. Tasha and I haven't gotten the okay. I don't know when I'll be back. I'm sorry baby girl." Your heart breaks as she talks.

"I'll be fine here. Just...be safe. Please. I mean it this time." Her voice is cracking and you can tell she's crying.

"I will, I promise. I have to go. Just stay at the compound, it's the safest place, okay?"

"Yes Doctor." You give a small smile.

"I love you." The line cuts before she can reply. Your hand drops as you stare at the ground.

"Everything okay?"

"She didn't say I love you back...she just hung up..." Tasha pulls you back in for a hug.

"I'm sorry sweetie. Maybe she didn't realize you said it." You decided to listen to Tasha instead of letting your mind wander.

As Natasha comforted you, her words offering a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts, you tried to push aside the hurt and uncertainty gnawing at your heart. Despite the chaos of the evening, her unwavering support provided a beacon of stability in the tumultuous aftermath.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the present moment, allowing yourself to be enveloped by Natasha's reassuring presence. She had always been there for you, a steadfast ally in the face of adversity, and you knew that you could rely on her to see you through even the darkest of times.

With Natasha by my side, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, a reminder that you were not alone in facing the challenges that lay ahead. And as you awaited further instructions, you resolved to remain vigilant, ready to confront whatever obstacles may come your way.

Amidst the uncertainty and turmoil, one thing remained clear: no matter the trials you faced, you would continue to stand by Natasha's side, trusting in your bond to carry you through the storm. And as you leaned into her embrace, you found solace in the knowledge that together, you would weather whatever challenges the future may hold.

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neonovember · 1 year

Text

Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93 @cynic-spirit

Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake, and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

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onceuponastory · 1 year

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fear of falling - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Y/N loves Bucky, the gorgeous pilot at the airline they both work for, but she knows he doesn’t feel the same about her. ...Or does he? Pairing: Pilot!Bucky Barnes x FlightAttendant!Female!Reader Warnings: Angst with no happy ending yet, heartbreak, and miscommunication. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This was written for @the-slumberparty‘s I Spy Challenge. I used the bouquet of flowers and diamond necklace prompts. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome aboard this Stark Airlines flight from New York to Chicago. On the flight deck this morning is Captain Bucky Barnes and First Officer Sam Wilson. I’m Y/N, your lead flight attendant, and myself and my fellow flight attendants will take care of you today.” As she rattles through the pre-flight announcements and the safety message that has become second nature to her by this point, Y/N smiles brightly. She loves her job, especially being able to travel around the world and meet new people. As a flight attendant, she sees people from all walks of life, and she’s glad to be a part of their journey, no matter their destination.

Once the flight reaches cruising altitude and the drinks service has started, Y/N heads to the cockpit. “Good morning, you two. Can I get you guys a drink or something to eat?” She asks as she steps inside. Honestly, she’s incredibly glad to have Bucky and Sam on her flight. Some pilots she works with can be unfriendly or just downright rude, but Bucky and Sam always greet her with a smile and make sure she and her team are okay. As Bucky turns to smile at her, she feels her chest tightening slightly. She appreciates it more than they’ll ever know.

“Hey you! Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s things?” Sam grins.

“Not bad. Just been working. And I know! It’s been too long. I see Bucky more often than I see you. I swear he only takes flights I’m on.” She jokes.

“Maybe I do.” Bucky smirks, and Y/N feels something in her stomach flutter. “I swear she deserves a present for putting up with me for so long.” Bucky chuckles, checking some instruments.

“Hm. You can get me some flowers then.”

“Nah, I think by this point you deserve a diamond necklace.”

“Ooh, lucky me.” She chuckles, making a note of their orders before disappearing back to the galley. Although she can’t help but feel how her stomach twinges slightly at his words. She knows Bucky is just joking, but deep down she doesn’t want anything like a diamond necklace, or anything else material. Y/N wants something that can’t be bought, something that she’s convinced doesn’t exist. Y/N just wants Bucky to want her back, to feel the same love she feels for him.

From the moment she first met the smooth talking Captain, Y/N fell head over heels in love with him. Handsome, charming, incredibly talented and kind, Bucky Barnes is the full package. Although she may joke about the amount of flights they take together, she’s glad to spend so much time with him. Because deep down, she knows they can’t be together outside of their job. At first, she wondered if his chest fluttered the same way hers does whenever they see each other, or if her smile makes his heart beat a little faster too. Perhaps he even thinks of just how her body looks under her uniform, too. Unfortunately, though, that dream got destroyed a long time ago. He may laugh and joke with her in the air, but Y/N’s convinced herself that on the ground, she means nothing to Bucky. Of course, she’s tried a few times to connect with him outside of work, suggesting going for dinner or even just for a coffee, but Bucky always seems to be just too busy for her. And after a while, Y/N stopped asking, telling herself to stop trying before she falls too hard, and her heart breaks beyond repair. Even though it’s hard enough to not think about the love of your life when you work alongside him as much as she does. As she fills Bucky and Sam’s coffee cups, she pictures Bucky’s smile, and her chest tightens once more.

Or maybe it already is broken beyond repair.

After furiously wiping at her eyes to hide the tears that are no doubt building, Y/N re-enters the cockpit.

“Alright, you two, here’s your coffee.”

“Thanks Y/N, you’re a star.” Bucky grins. Y/N nods, trying not to let her smile fall. She’s good at that. At falling apart with a smile on her face the whole time. Especially when Bucky is around.

“Thanks. Anything else I can get you both?”

“No, but we were wondering if you want to get dinner with us in Chicago tomorrow.” Sam offers.

“Yeah, it’s just a group of us, but you’re more than welcome to join.” Bucky adds.

“Of course it is. It always is.” Yet, she nods, reinforcing her perfectly fake smile. “That sounds perfect.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, Y/N sits in her hotel bar, nursing a drink. Tinder is open on her phone, and she scrolls through each potential match…rejecting every single one of them. There’s no way she’ll find her Mr Perfect here, especially since nobody is striking her as the one right away. “Because they’re not Bucky Barnes.” Sighing sadly, she places her phone down on the table and takes another gulp of her drink. Maybe after this, she’ll just go to her room and not come out ever again. After all, she’s already destined to be alone for the rest of her life, so she better start now.

“Is this seat taken?” An all too familiar voice asks, and Y/N’s stomach churns.

“Not at all.” She answers, regretting it almost immediately as Bucky sits opposite her. He’s wearing a navy blue shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. He’s dressed far more casually than she’s used to seeing him, but the look still makes her heartbeat intensify. He’s gorgeous, in or out of uniform. “Hey stranger.” Bucky furrows his brow, laughing.

“I saw you this morning, remember?” That moment feels like a lifetime ago, a whole other time. It’s then that Y/N realises this is the longest that both of them, and only them, have been together on the ground. She gulps.

“Oh…right.” She chuckles awkwardly. A silence falls amongst the pair, and Y/N’s sense of unease rises. Things have never been this awkward between them both. Then again, though, she’s never been alone with Bucky this long. This is all she wanted, and yet she has no idea what to do or say to him.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want another?” Bucky asks, gesturing to her almost empty glass. After he disappears to the bar, Y/N wrestles with what to do. A part of her worries that the second she opens her mouth again, all her thoughts and true feelings about Bucky will spill out before she can stop them. Her gaze turns to Bucky, like it always does. As she watches him laughing with the bartender, running a hand through his hair, she smiles happily. A familiar warm feeling, the one she always feels when Bucky is around her, builds in her stomach.

If he knew the truth, would that really be so bad?

“Here we go.” Bucky grins, sitting back opposite her. “Cheers to good friends and coworkers.” He announces, and the pair clink their glasses together. Y/N tries to suppress her disappointment. Maybe a coworker is all she’s destined to be to him.

“Thanks for putting up with me for so long. Maybe you’re the one who needs a gift.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“Y/N, I was never putting up with you. I love having you on my flight crew. You have no idea how happy I get seeing you walking through the terminal. You’re my favourite person.” Y/N smiles, this time even wider. She swears this is the happiest and truest her smile has ever been. As Bucky smiles over at her, a thought enters her mind. Does he…feel the same about her? Her heart rate picks up, and her head spins. Bucky leans in closer, so close she can feel his breath on her skin. It feels like she’s on fire. “You know, Y/N….” He trails off, and her eyebrow raises.

But then, the sound of her phone beside her cuts through the conversation. And the notification that flashes up on the screen comes at the worst possible time. It’s Tinder, telling her that someone has liked her profile. Bucky’s face pales, and Y/N’s stomach churns. Immediately, she knows what that look means.

He’s seen it.

Bucky leans back in his seat with a sigh. “Oh. Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were looking for someone. Congrats.” He sounds deflated, like the happiness has been sucked out of him. And Y/N begins to panic. No. This cannot be happening. Not now. Not ever.

“Bucky, wait.” She gasps, but he shakes his head.

“No, no. It’s okay. Good on you for trying to find someone. God knows it’s hard enough to find your true love in our profession.” He chuckles awkwardly. Yet, his laugh sounds like it’s lost all warmth. Like he’s just hiding behind a smile…just like her. And with that, her entire heart shatters. “I’m gonna finish this drink, then go to bed, I think. Busy day tomorrow.” Before she can protest, Bucky all but downs his drink, getting up soon after. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Bucky, sit down and listen to me.” She hisses. “Please.” Bucky sighs, turning back to her. He can’t even meet her eyes.

“Y/N. Don’t give up on your chance at happiness. Trust me.” And then he’s gone, walking towards the elevators. Y/N knows she should go after him, but she can’t get up. All she can think about is how she’s messed everything up for both her and Bucky. The last thing either of them needs is her ruining everything even more. She’s already done enough.

And this time, the heartbreak hurts more than she could ever have imagined.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Y/N is roused from her restless sleep by a furious knocking on her hotel door. For a moment, she hopes it’s Bucky, here to admit the truth like they do in the movies. But then the entirety of their conversation from last night hits her again. It feels like a giant bucket of cold water has been dumped over her. And with it, the heartbreak starts all over again.

When she opens the door, she knows she can’t be surprised that Bucky isn’t standing there, his trademark smile still on his lips. Although, she’s incredibly disappointed. He probably never wants to see her again. Or at least, not any time soon. Deep down, she knows she can’t even be mad at him for it. The person standing there is a hotel employee.

“Present for you, miss.” He announces, passing over a bouquet of flowers. Although they’re beautiful, and feature an array of her favourite colours, the sight makes Y/N’s heart sink. She already knows who they’re from before she even reads the card.

“To the most special woman I know, the one who puts up with me on almost every flight and deserves far more than she gets. Honestly, you deserve a lot more than these flowers, but I know how much you love these ones, so I had to get you them. Thank you for all you have done for me so far…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. I wish you all the happiness that you deserve. One day you’ll get your necklace. From Bucky.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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