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cherienymphe · 11 months

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Basic Training VI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You were helping Christine out in the kitchen when Margaret brought her daughter downstairs. The brunette was really kind, you’d come to learn, patient in making sure you got everything right. She didn’t seem bothered by your quiet disposition, instead content to simply talk to you with no expectation of any responses in return.

When the other brunette made herself known, Christine had awed.

“Oh, she’s getting so big,” she cooed, pausing in what she was doing. “Almost a year now, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Margaret breathed, a bright smile on her face. “Steve’s already talking about trying for another.”

You turned away, resting your gaze on kneading the dough, afraid to screw it up and afraid to stare in the face of your possible future. Although, you supposed that there was nothing possible about it, and you struggled to accept that. Your chest grew tight as you heard them fuss over the baby girl behind you, not wanting to entertain the thought of that being you one day, all smiles and sparkly eyes as you held Peter’s baby.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took you too long to realize that Margaret was talking to you, and you hesitantly looked over your shoulder. They were both quiet as you looked between them, an encouraging smile on Margaret’s face as your gaze eventually fell to the little girl in her arms. You felt unsure, glancing down at your hands before brushing them on your apron.

“I…” you gestured to the dough. “I’m a mess and…I don’t know if I should…”

“It’s okay,” the new mom softly encouraged. “She loves meeting new people.”

She was approaching you before you could protest any further, and you carefully took the baby when she handed her off. You supposed that Margaret was telling the truth, her daughter taking you in with wide eyes and studying you just as much as you were studying her. She was very sweet, very cute, and you felt yourself frowning a bit.

“I’m taking her for a walk around the property,” Margaret mused, and Christine hummed at that as she continued cooking. “Get her some fresh air and sun. Maybe even let her crawl around a bit.”

She poked at her daughter’s cheeks, a fond smile on her own rosy lips, and she let out a sigh.

“Pretty soon there’ll be more babies filling up this house, and then Laura, Sharon, and I won’t feel so alone.”

Margaret said it so casually, and you blinked for several reasons. For one thing, you didn’t know that Laura and Sharon had children too, and again, you were reminded of how isolated you felt from the other women. They probably sat around and chatted with each other about these things, those three in particular maybe even watching their children play.

In the same train of thought, your stomach churned at the mention of more children. You wondered just how long Margaret had been here for her to be so casual and content with her situation, to talk about everyone’s situation this way. Then again, you wondered if it had more to do with who she was married to. With a husband like Steve, there probably wasn’t any other choice but to find happiness in this predicament in some way.

Either that or be wholly miserable all the time.

Be humiliated all the time.

Her words had you handing her child back to her, and it was then that Steve appeared at the entrance of the kitchen. The sight of him had you flinching, and you almost felt like you were wrong to touch his child, stepping away from Margaret just as she smiled at the blond.

“There you are,” he said, smiling back at her and fully stepping into the kitchen.

You discreetly returned to the dough, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“I was just bringing Sarah down for a walk and wanted to visit whoever was in here making breakfast for everybody,” she sweetly replied, and you wondered if it was exhausting to have to appear to be that happy all the time.

You couldn’t imagine Peter expecting that of you, and you looked down, thinking of that morning in which Peter had forced you to watch Steve punishing Margaret. You felt your skin grow cold as you recalled his brutality, just the sheer act of treating someone that way, and especially for something as minor as messing up food or not smiling as big as he expected.

In the back of your mind, there was a stray thought of gratitude that you weren’t in her place.

“That’s great, honey,” you heard Steve tell her, and it sounded genuine. “Especially since Y/N is here.”

You paused at that, hesitantly looking over your shoulder, shuddering as your gaze met his. Despite the smile on his pink lips, the look in his blue eyes didn’t quite match, an emptiness to them that had your stomach sinking.

“It’ll be good for her to be around the children more,” he mused, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’ll help her get…acclimated to how things are around here.”

You understood the words that went unsaid, turning back around and fighting back tears.

Steve wanted you to face your future, to stare at it head on and accept your fate. He wanted you to see the wives with their kids and maybe even interact with the small children, slowly opening up to the idea of children your own someday. At that thought, you wondered if Margaret had even come down here of her own volition, or if it was carefully orchestrated by the same man who’d orchestrated everything else in this house.

You only released a shuddering breath when they both left, and you found your thoughts drifting to Peter. He was still in bed when you’d made your way downstairs per the routine, something you were a bit better at now. You were still a God-awful cook, but as long as Steve wasn’t standing over you, you were fine. Funnily enough, outside of the night you’d cooked fish, the only time you’d come close to that was when Peter had helped you that morning.

There was a brief thought that you wished you had his help, now.

You immediately paused at that, gently shaking your head with a frown. You shouldn’t want Peter’s help for anything, even if only to make your time here easier. The hand he had in your kidnapping was astronomical. After all, he was the sole reason you were even here. As much as you didn’t want to subject anyone else to this, you sometimes wondered about what would’ve happened if you’d never gone into that diner that day.

Maybe you, Pietro, Wanda, and MJ would be almost to Florida by now. Maybe you’d be in some town a lot nicer than this, enjoying historical monuments and whatever shopping mall Wanda would no doubt be excited for. Tears kissed your eyes at the thought, and you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

Thinking about your friends made you sad, but not thinking about them felt…disrespectful. You couldn’t forget them, for as long as you lived, but reliving your time with them and wondering about what could’ve been hurt too much. It made your chest ache in ways that almost brought you to your knees, and you were grateful when Christine gently reminded you to roll the biscuits out small.

“Will I ever get to go outside?”

Your question was so quiet that it was a wonder Peter even heard it, and you looked over your shoulder at him as he took his utility belt off. So much of your road trip had been dedicated to nature and outdoor activities, courtesy of your contribution, and being stuck in this house and only able to gaze up at the stars from a barred window was getting to your head. It was even worse during the day, unable to step outside and soak in the sun.

You knew why, of course.

“Eventually,” he finally answered, slowly making his way to you. “Probably not anytime soon though…”

His word choice was not lost on you, and you blinked at him, frowning slightly.

“It’s just like with the basement,” Peter explained, drinking you in. “The same way Steve wouldn’t let you out if he thought you were a danger to anyone or was going to escape…”

He trailed off, letting you fill in the dots, and you turned back around to look up at the sky. You could feel Peter’s gaze on you as you pressed your forehead to the window, just standing and watching the outside world. You were sure that if you were let outside, right now, you would run. You probably wouldn’t even be able to help it.

However, the thought of being caught mentally scared you away from the mere possibility.

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard Peter walk away, watching him disappear into the bathroom. You stared at the door for some time before turning back around. You didn’t like sleeping next to Peter…but you’d unfortunately found that sleeping without him was impossible.

The nightmares still woke you up sometimes, and in your delirious and fearful state, it was easy to accept his comfort as he shushed you and held you. It was shameful really, and your gaze found the floor. It was usually why you took this time to get into bed before him. You liked to pretend like you were asleep whenever he got out of the bathroom, unwilling to watch him crawl into bed and lay beside you.

It was easier to pretend this way.

You pulled the covers over you, still staring at the window, and you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were in some screwed up purgatory, stuck between the traumatic events that led to your capture and your inevitable future. You were unable to go back to before it had happened, but your mind wasn’t ready to go forward either.

You weren’t ready to become like Jane and find happiness here, smiling at Peter whenever you saw him, and you for sure weren’t ready to become like Margaret or Laura or Sharon. You couldn’t imagine having a baby with the man who’d kidnapped you and ruined your life, smiling at the child like a gift instead of what it really was.

Physical evidence of just how in deep you were.

Thoughts of your nightmarish future guided you to sleep, and the next time you woke up, Peter’s arm was around you, holding you in place and attempting to keep you from flailing. Your chest was heaving, and his other hand was on your head, smoothing over it as he gently shushed you.

“You’re okay,” he breathed. “You’re safe…”

The cool air hit your face, and it was then that you realized you’d been crying in your sleep. You couldn’t stop though, because your nightmare wasn’t just a nightmare. It was real, and you were currently living it. Peter’s soft and soothing tone wasn’t doing much, and your forehead pressed into your pillow, your tears wetting it.

“Y/N…”

You really didn’t like Peter saying your name, the sound of it coming from his lips causing a shudder to climb up your spine. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping them around you, and you were wetting his chest with your tears now instead. He rocked you, gently, wiping your face and telling you that you were okay.

…but the last thing you felt like was okay.

You felt so far from okay.

“Are…are you going to make me have a baby too?”

Your voice was but a whisper in the quiet room, and you felt Peter pause. He didn’t answer right away, and the more his silence stretched, the lower your heart sank.

“We don’t have to figure that out, right now,” he whispered back. “It’s just you and me, okay?”

You sniffed.

“…but…but Steve wants the house to be full of children…” you heard and felt Peter sigh. “He expects me to have children. I know he does, I could see it on his face.”

You continued when Peter didn’t respond.

“…and what he wants he gets, right? Right?” you tearfully wondered, trembling at the thought.

“That’ll be between you and me,” Peter softly told you, playing with your hair and stroking your back. “…and we don’t have to talk about that, now. It’s okay.”

You swallowed, tearfully staring into the darkness and feeling pathetic that of all people, Peter was the only one you found yourself confiding in.

“I’m scared, Peter…”

“Of what? Of me…?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Peter almost sounded offended at the thought. You didn’t know how to tell him that you were afraid of him. You were afraid of him and Steve and every other man here, afraid of their capabilities and the predicament they’d put you in. Of course, you were afraid of Peter.

The power he held was what got you here in the first place.

Everything about Peter terrified you. He looked like an angel, but one word from him silenced your friends forever and forced you into captivity. You supposed he was the nicer of the bunch, yes, but there was something about him that Steve clearly respected, something about him that could talk you out of being punished and buy more time for you to adjust.

Your mind drifted to that day in the kitchen, the finality in Peter’s tone as he addressed Margaret. You thought about her lack of argument, how easily she’d accepted something that evidently wasn’t normal all because Peter had made his position on it clear. You thought about how at ease he was around the men who’d killed your friends, how he talked with them and laughed with them and probably thought of them as friends. Brothers even.

Yes.

You were very afraid of Peter.

…because he was both the source of your torment and your comfort.

The same man who’d put you in this situation was the one who held you late into the night, keeping the nightmares at bay. The very same nightmares that he caused. Peter was the one you turned to whenever you were unsure about anything, unable to get direction from anyone else. He was the one you hid behind or sought out whenever Steve’s cold blue eyes fell onto you.

Peter had put you in this predicament…and he was the one you needed to survive it.

It twisted you up in ways you couldn’t even understand, and you hated the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I’m scared of everyone here,” you honestly told him. “I want to go home.”

Peter didn’t say anything to that, just softly rubbing your back. It was something you said often, and even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen, you couldn’t stop saying it aloud. It was something you just needed to say, and Peter let you.

“Sweep up every last bit of glass…”

Steve’s cold voice had you trembling harder, and you kept your gaze on the mess before you.

“We have children that crawl around here, and I’ll be damned if one of them hurt themselves because of your clumsiness.”

You fought back tears as the blond loomed over you, shaking as you brushed more glass into the dustpan. Natasha had thought nothing of telling you to dust the foyer, an easy enough task. That was what you’d thought anyway, but somehow, you’d managed to knock over the vase on the table by the entrance, and you’d heard the thunder of heavy footsteps before the sound of shattered glass had settled into the air good. Even before Steve had rounded the corner, you knew how badly you messed up.

An apology was barely on your lips when Steve had started tearing into you, ordering you to hurry up and clean the glass. You knew he had a point about the children, and you did feel bad, but it was a genuine accident.

“That vase has been in this family for years,” he said, making you feel even worse. “…and one afternoon with you and it’s gone just like that.”

When all the glass was in the trash, you got the feeling that Steve wasn’t quite done with you, evident in the way he still stood by the foyer. Your stomach turned as you faced him, and your mind drifted to the basement. If Steve would punish his wife like he had over the smallest of things, there would be no telling what waited for you over a family heirloom.

Then again, you didn’t belong to Steve…and you hated how much that comforted you.

“Peter’s at work,” the blond hummed, and you warily eyed him. “…so, you’ll have to be punished in a way that won’t upset him too much.”

You frowned at that, eyes widening at the yard stick Steve revealed from behind his back.

“You’re adjusting…but not fast enough.”

You glanced around, and you weren’t hopeful enough to think that no one was around to witness your scolding. They were there but were no doubt hiding from the blonde’s wrath lest it latch onto anyone within the vicinity.

“That vase has been dusted a hundred times, and only with you did it become a broken mess.”

You blinked back tears, struggling to find your voice.

“I’m sorry, Steve. It…it won’t happen again,” you forced out, and he hummed.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he breathed. “Hold out your hands.”

You weren’t quite sure you heard him correctly, and you looked at him in confusion, brows drawn together. Steve’s face was as serious as ever, and at the sight, your tears finally spilled over. You pulled your lip between your teeth, shaking as you did as he told you.

“Flatter,” he said, flattening the yard stick underneath your hands until they were flat and even.

He tapped them twice.

“Palms up.”

If it was possible, your eyes widened further, but the fear of worse had you obeying him, and the deep breath you took didn’t prepare you for the pain you felt when Steve struck your hands. Against your best interest, you snatched them towards you, holding them to your chest. You held in a sob as Steve tsked.

“Hold them out,” he slowly demanded, and they were shaking even more now as you did.

Your palms were up, and Steve raised his hand, raising the yard stick with it before bringing it down across your palms again. You hissed this time, hands lowering some, but you kept them upright, knowing that was what he wanted.

He’d brought the long piece of wood down onto your palms fifteen times, each time hurting worse than the last. By the time Steve was done, you were a sobbing mess, your palms red and aching. He’d given you another lecture on the importance of being careful, but you’d been in too much pain to clearly hear a word he said.

You stumbled up to your room the second he dismissed you, clutching your hands to you the whole way.

Your back met your door as soon as you closed it, shaking so bad it was a wonder you were still standing. At that thought, you stumbled to your bed, tripping over your feet and collapsing onto the mattress. You knew that you should run your hands under some water at least, maybe even ask around about something to put on them, but you were in too much pain and too humiliated to do that.

They burned, and the only thing you were capable of doing was crying yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t an easy sleep, drifting in and out, the pain bleeding through your subconscious and waking you up here and there. With the form of punishment Steve had chosen, you surmised that you weren’t expected to carry out the rest of your duties for the rest of the day.

The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t alone.

Peter’s fingers were on your forehead, smoothing them along your sweat-kissed skin. You thought you were dreaming at first, but when your eyes remained open, the brunette gave you a rueful smile. The sight made your face crumble, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he sighed. “Steve told me what happened.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at the mention of the blond.

“It was an a-accident,” you choked out. “I didn’t-.”

“I know,” he exhaled, fingers gently trailing down your arm. “I wish I had been here. I should’ve been the one to…”

He trailed off, but you knew what he was going to say. As crazy as it sounded, you also would’ve rather Peter had been the one to dole-out your punishment. With his hands on your arms, Peter helped you sit up, guiding you to your feet. You couldn’t stop shaking, sobs still climbing out of your lips as he pulled you into the bathroom.

He turned the cold water on, and you hissed when it ran over your palms. Peter left you for some moments, and when he returned, he turned the water off. You noticed that one of his hands were occupied, and when he sat you back down on the bed, he gently told you to hold out your hands.

You watched him kneel before you, rubbing some salve on them, something that made you initially hiss, but his circular movements with his fingers were gentle.

“A lot of things won’t be tolerated around here,” he quietly started, and you looked down. “It’s taking a lot for you to adjust, and that’s okay considering…”

Silence descended over you both for a few moments.

“…but Steve doesn’t have the patience for it. Not like I do,” he softly told you, glancing up at you as he wrapped your hands. “I can only protect you if I’m here because when I’m not…”

He continued wrapping your other hand.

“Your responsibility falls to Steve…or Sam…or Bucky, or Tony. Basically, any of the other husbands that can take it upon themselves to punish you themselves…or leave it to me.”

Peter set the gauze aside, fixing you with a gentle look as he rested his own hands on your knees.

“…and Steve isn’t the type to leave it to me.”

More tears fell, and Peter reached up to wipe them away.

“…but you work,” you tearfully said. “You’re not always here.”

Peter took a deep breath, gently grabbing your hands. You winced at the action, and you watched him bring your palms to his lips, kissing one and then finally the other.

“Do you want me to be here more?”

The question took you by surprise, and Peter looked up at you from beneath his lashes, dark strands kissing his forehead.

“I can take some time away from work if it means helping you…adjust.”

You sniffed.

“If it means looking out for you…”

More tears escaped, skipping down your cheek.

“Steve terrifies me…and I… If I have to be punished,” you struggled to say the word. “I would rather it be by you.”

Peter studied your face for a while, eventually nodding as he stood. He sat beside you on the bed, and you laid down, holding your hands to you. The balm helped with the pain some, but it was more so the humiliation and the recollection of the act that still had you crying.

Peter stroked your face, maneuvering you so that your head rested in his lap.

“It hurts, I know,” he said, tone soothing. “It’ll barely feel like anything at all in a week.”

His other hand rubbed your back, traveling to your waist and kneading the skin through your dress. The softness of his touch was a nice contrast to the flare of pain in your palms, to the memory of Steve’s punishing movements. When Peter took your hands again, pressing gentle almost nonexistent kisses to your palms, your lashes fluttered and disappointment filled you when he pulled them away.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker imagine

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

An Israeli law draft that would prohobit UNRWA's activity in Israel passed a very primal stage of legislation. It still has a long way until it will become law (it would still have to pass 3 readings, as well as the Knesset committees), but if before Oct 7 it probably would not stand a chance, after the mounting evidence of the symbiotic nature between Hamas and UNRWA, it has a better chance than ever.

Speaking of the UN being despicable, and in cahoots with antisemitic, genocidal terrorists, we now have Martin Griffiths, the UN Relief Chief, saying that he does not consider Hamas a terrorist organization. Just wondering, if an organization targeting civilians, raping women, maiming children, beheading babies, burning entiree families together, shooting and kidnapping elderly Holocaust survivors, isn't a terrorist organization, what in the world does Hamas need to do to be recognized as such!?

You might have heard that Israel is operating in the Nasser hospital in Gaza. There's a reason for that, which was addressed by the IDF spokesperson: Israel has intel, including from released hostages, that Hamas kept kidnapped Israelis (and possibly kidnapped bodies) in that hospital. I've actually found one testimony from a released hostage, Sharon Cunyo, talking about this to CNN's Anderson Cooper. The vid is here (page in Spanish, but the vid is in English).

youtube

I cannot stress enough how much our hearts hurt for our Jewish brothers and sisters around the world, suffering from this current rise in antisemitism. We've now heard that in the UK, a doctor who has described Jewish colleagues as having a "big nose," and who said that a London borough would be better off "Jew free" was found to be not racist, and could continue to practice medicine. This ties in with a new report that shows the number of antisemitic incidents in the UK is the highest it's been in 40 years, with 67% of these taking place after Oct 7, and maybe most importantly, the initial peak in antisemitic acts was a celebration of Hamas' massacre, rather than any sort of reaction to the war in Gaza.

Meanwhile, in the US congress, a bipartisan resolution passed, condemning Hamas' use of rape and sexual violence on Oct 7 (and since, when it comes to the hostages). Which is incredible and needed, even if it only has a symbolic meaning. Still, guess who couldn't stomach defending the human rights of Israelis, even when it comes to rape, even when it had no practical meaning? Rashida Tlaib, once more doing the US proud.

These are (left to right) Yair Cohen, Ziv Chen, and Netanel Alkobi.

On Oct 7, they were among the soldiers who got to kibbutz Nir Yitzchak, and saved the majority of its people from being slaughtered. They stayed to guard the kibbutz since (as the border fence has not yet been completely fixed), and only recently entered Gaza. The other day, they were killed in a building booby trapped by Hamas in Khan Younis. As heartbreaking is it was to hear their families talk about them, it was also painful to hear interviews with kibbutz members, who had lost so much, who have had loved ones in captivity for over 4 months, and who were just as devastated as the families, when they recognized the three as their savior heroes.

May their memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #Youtube

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missvelvetsstuff · 1 day

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No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.

I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.

Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"

Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."

Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped

"COOKIE!"

Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"

Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"

Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."

Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."

Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"

Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch

"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."

Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.

She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.

Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.

Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.

She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.

He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."

Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."

Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.

Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."

Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts

*<3 BeSafe*CYA*

That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.

Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."

Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."

He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."

Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."

Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.

She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.

In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.

He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.

Sam was right, something was off.

Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."

Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."

She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.

He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.

Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.

The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text

*👍🐴☔*

She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.

Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.

She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.

A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.

Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.

Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.

Cookie stared back "What?"

He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."

She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."

"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.

I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?

And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."

Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"

Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"

Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"

Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."

She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."

Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.

Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"

Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."

Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."

Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.

Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."

Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."

He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well

"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.

Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."

Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."

Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.

"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"

Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.

Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.

Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."

Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

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soft-and-bitter · 9 months

Text

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

The Cure & The Cause

Mafia!Steve x Captive!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Notes/warning(s): some sexual content, coercion, Steve is sweet but a little psycho, no plot just vibes. Reader’s been kidnapped by Steve and is being held captive for a bit before story begins. Part of the same universe that Failed Bargaining belongs to.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

When the car rolls up to the curb and a member of Steve’s unit opens the door, Sharon exits first before it’s your turn. You’ve barely stepped out of the black Range Rover before several bodyguards usher you towards the entrance of the multi-storied boutique, but the small stretch of sidewalk you cross is simply not enough for you to attempt an escape. Figures.

You’ve only ever gone shopping for a wedding dress once, when you had accompanied your best friend in search of hers. But with the costs of her traditional wedding adding up quickly, Lisa had been forced to make some concessions where her dress was concerned. Her final choice was still lovely, in the end, though admittedly it wasn’t perfect in every capacity that she’d envisioned.

As soon as you step foot into the bridal boutique, you realize right away that whatever financial concerns Lisa had during her own wedding planning, Sharon will not have. Money is, quite frankly, the least of her worries. For starters, Sharon is one of Steve’s highest-ranking, and she’s getting married to Sam, so it’s no surprise that all the stops have been pulled out. This upscale boutique is apparently one of many salons she has in mind to visit, but already it’s proving to be the most impressive.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Sharon mentions with uncharacteristic giddiness, just as you and the rest of the group settle into plush white sofas. You thought that that in itself spoke to Steve’s influence and wealth, but when the senior manager in her stylish black dress and six-inch heels pops open a bottle of Dom Perignon circa 1996, you’re left wondering how much of Steve’s largesse these people are truly hoping for.

Together with the champagne, the store’s personnel offer you and the others an assortment of French pastries while Sharon gets into her first dress. A collection of them has already been set aside for her based on previous consultations, but today is when she gets to try them on. You’re already reaching for your second flute when you think that for just a second, you want to imagine that this is all a normal picture, that these women you’re here with—Sharon, Nat, Wanda and Sarah—are in fact your girlfriends, rather than accomplices to your captivity. That without him present, you might just be able to subscribe to the illusion. Combined with the right amount of ridiculously expensive champagne, it’s more than possible.

This scares you more than you want to admit. Mostly because you’re stuck realizing how lonely you’ve been up to this point, even before Steve decided to take you, but also how your perception of your captivity is beginning to morph into something less depraved, a jagged picture where the edges are becoming dulled.

You swallow down another bit of champagne in response, and then a little bit more; the next thing you know, time is flying by and your reaction at every dress Sharon steps out in gets more expressive, louder. Somewhere along the way you even end up in Nat’s lap, arms flung over her shoulder, the both of you choking on laughter at a snide comment Sharon’s made about the gown that Wanda—yes, her—has chosen to try on. It’s the very portrait of idealized friendship, of closeness and devotion and support. Of course you want to believe all this, even if only for a minute.

“It looks like you ladies have gone through most of the champagne I sent,” says a low, timbrous voice that slices through the racket of laughter and loud talk.

You, together with everyone else, process Steve’s sudden presence in the salon at the same moment, only your reaction is nowhere near as positive. Amongst the wild cheers and drunken shrieks that the other women let out, you merely stare at him with your mouth agape, blinking at the sight of him in the doorway, Bucky lingering not so far behind. Rather than disappointment, your brain can only process how fucking handsome this man is, how the top of his head nearly grazes the lintel as he enters, every step full of confidence. You’re completely out of his league, your brain foggily reminds you, though you know that—just like you know what’s beneath the gray suit he’s wearing, the one tailored to perfection.

More treacherous thoughts, you realize, just like most of them today.

“It feels like I’ve stepped into a party,” Steve says, rounding a sofa to enter the fray. His blue eyes cut to you, take in your place on Nat’s lap and the way you’re holding on to her, but he says nothing.

“That’s because it is a party,” Sharon insists, a little too loudly, the tendrils of her hair dancing along the sides of her face. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“We were driving through the district and I thought I’d drop in,” he says, still hovering over them. Bucky’s leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his body and a look of mild amusement on his face, but he doesn’t attempt to intrude any further.

With his hands poised on his hips, Steve looks over at Wanda standing before the wall-to-wall mirrors. “Last time I checked, you’re not getting married. What’s happening here?”

“Nobody says you have to be a bride to try on a pretty dress,” Nat explains beneath you, one arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. “Sharon needed a breather, actually, so we’ve decided to take turns modeling now. Right, babe?”

She knocks a shoulder against one of yours.

When Steve swivels his head to look down at the both of you, there’s a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “In that case, it’s your turn,” he commands, eyes fixed squarely on you. “Now that I think about it, I'm curious to know how you’d look in a wedding dress. And you want to please me, don’t you?”

You blink at him, letting his words wash over you. You remain sitting on Nat’s lap, even though you’re still not sure how you ended up there in the first place, and you can’t quite believe that Steve’s here too, but reality is starting to sink back in, your little fantasy cracking at the edges. These women around you aren’t your friends, and this isn’t some typical shopping excursion at a designer bridal house.

When you respond, you’re only vaguely aware how much the champagne you’ve been knocking back has emboldened you. His champagne, no less.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t want to.”

You think you may be imagining it, but the room suddenly feels quieter. Steve, though, is still looking down at you, his face still set in a calm expression.

“Find a dress, sweetheart, or I’ll choose one and get you into it myself.” He sinks into the plush sofa adjacent to yours, the sole occupant. “Knowing your tastes, you won’t like what I have in mind for you.”

You know that Steve’s not messing around, because he’s made good on a similar threat before. Worst of all, none of the women around you dissent on your behalf, not even Nat, sitting so close to you. You should feel betrayed by their silence, but it’s partly your fault you helped craft the illusion you so badly wanted to believe in.

“Come on beautiful, let’s go find you something,” Nat says gently, nudging you to stand. Maybe it’s the hurt you’re feeling, but this time around you don’t object as you follow a sales consultant, Nat trailing close behind. You pass by Bucky as you leave the private room; he throws you a look akin to mild sympathy before he joins the rest.

“My god, look at you,” he breathes, slowly rising from the plush white sofa. “My sweet, sweet girl, all dressed up to get married.”

You’d chosen a dress that made you think of a suit of armor. But by the way Steve studies you, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through any material, you just feel vulnerable. Exposed. Ironic, because your first and final choice felt the most conservative compared to all the dresses that Sharon and the others had come out in. Nat had coaxed you into wearing a veil, too, completing the whole look.

The champagne keeps your fiery spirit afloat, your tongue looser than normal. “I'm never getting married,” you say.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never?"

"Never," you parrot.

“Well that's too bad, 'cause that won't be a decision you get to make. Now come here.”

You think about ignoring him for a second, just turn right back where you’d shuffled from as your own quiet brand of fuck you. But there’s a look of expectancy on his face, and at his full height, Steve isn’t one to spar with.

His hands are already on your waist when you turn to the expanse of mirrors. You weren’t wrong when you deemed this dress less eye-catching than the others, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less lovely.

“What do you think?” he asks. You can feel his fingers playing with the veil that waterfalls behind you, the way his knuckles ghost along your back.

“It's . . . fine, I guess,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Oh, I think it’s more than fine,” he insists. “Stunning, in fact. Should I buy it?”

He doesn’t mean it, you convince yourself, but it’s not enough to clamp down on the panic rising within you. Didn’t he just hear what you’d said a second earlier?

Until now, Steve has never mentioned marriage or anything of the like. But since when did you know how his mind worked? You wouldn’t be here if you did.

“Well?”

You shake your head. “Don’t. I can’t wear white to another bride’s wedding,”

Steve chuckles as he gently draws back the veil and your hair away, sweeping both over your left shoulder. “In that case, you can wear it at home, just for me. And you’ll make sure not to wear anything underneath, won’t you?”

Goosebumps dance along your skin. His hands on your waist have you trapped in place, body pressed against his. To your alarm, you feel him hardening against your back, a threat and a promise.

" I liked it more when it was on the rack," you say hastily, trying to ignore his growing desire, "now that I'm in it, I'm having second thoughts."

In the mirror, you can see Steve shaking his head. "No, you're absolutely radiant in this. It's perfect . . . and it's just so you."

He acts without warning. You inhale sharply as his tongue trails up your neck, slow and hot. Steve was licking you—licking you—in front of everyone, without an ounce of shame. It reminds you all too well of the other night, when he had spread you out across his desk and eaten you out while he'd taken a call on speaker. He'd taken his damned time too, keeping you on the very precipice while the caller spewed all this babel your mind couldn't comprehend, all thanks to the desperate state you were in. And when he finally let you come, it had been with his hand shoved against your mouth.

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

Yeah I have no idea what this is lol; it was such a basic and simple premise that really didn’t need to be 2k plus words long, but here we are I guess. Graphics by me.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers au

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cvrnelians · 11 months

Text

if the fates allow - chapter one

dark!bucky barnes x reader: As could be expected, you were just a tad upset about having to spend Christmas in a mental health facility. On the brightside, you didn’t have to spend it alone. Your friendship with Bucky Barnes, another patient on the unit, brought you a certain level of comfort during your stay. When you are discharged from the hospital shortly thereafter—and Bucky is forced to remain—you promise him you’ll be his pen pal until he gets out, after which, you’ll meet for coffee and catch up.

But when things don’t go quite as well as Bucky had hoped, he takes drastic measures to ensure that you remain the integral part of his life he always envisioned you to be.

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, suicide attempts, and non-con elements. proceed with caution.

(gif is not mine)

chapter two // chapter three // chapter four // chapter five

chapter one: losing time

music

🎄DECEMBER🎄

“So. I got you a little something.”

Bucky smiled at you expectantly, clearly very eager for you to investigate further. You raised your eyebrows at him. It was just so ridiculous. What could he possibly have gotten you, a magic marker from the craft room? A rogue oreo from the kitchen? There weren’t many gifting options to choose from. But then again, maybe he had a creative capacity you were unaware of.

It was only seconds later that you were presented with an origami folded together on the cheapest construction paper known to man.

“Is that…oh, it’s a dog!” you said, carefully picking it up out of his palm.

“A wolf,” he corrected you. “See how it’s howling at the moon?”

That it was.

“That’s actually pretty impressive.”

Bucky looked at you sheepishly. “I can’t exactly take credit for it. I asked MJ to make it for me. I tried to do it myself, but well…”

He motioned towards himself. You didn’t know the specifics of what happened to his left arm, just that there was an accident while he was deployed overseas. He was hesitant to be fit for a prosthetic even years later. He said he had a bad experience with the first one he had tried, that he felt like he hadn’t healed quite well enough to be fitted for another one just yet.

“…you get it.”

You hated that Bucky was so diligent about letting you know what day it was. You already knew what day it was, but you figured if you pretended that you didn’t know it was Christmas Eve, then you wouldn’t feel so sad. So there you sat, side-by-side with your backs pressed up against the radiator in the group room. You were trying to derive as much heat as you could from that ancient radiator, but you knew Bucky was only sitting there for your benefit. It had to have been uncomfortable for him. He was always warm.

He just didn’t want you to feel alone.

“I didn’t get you anything, Buck. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “You can make it up to me one day.”

The gesture was sweet, so sweet that it almost made you tear up. You tried your best to ignore him as he observed you, shifting your focus towards the inflatable Christmas tree in the corner of the room. You were amazed that MJ hadn’t tried to pop it yet. She had been particularly bothered by the “tree” when she discovered it that morning. At first glance, she greeted it with a cheerful “what the fuck is this?”

You glanced up from your sketchbook (which wasn’t really a sketchbook. It was a marble composition notebook that you and Bucky had both been sharing for the last two days to write each other notes and play tic tac toe) and raised your eyebrows. “A tree apparently.”

“No, it’s not,” she said flatly. “Why can’t we have a real tree?”

Bucky sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re afraid we’ll try to hurt ourselves with the glass ornaments or the branches or something. So we get whatever this is.”

“Come on, guys,” Sharon, one of the psychiatric technicians chimed in. “I think it’s cute. Cleaner than a real tree, too.”

“Sharon, seriously?” MJ scoffed. “This is insulting.”

At first, you thought the hot mess of a “tree” was actually kind of funny. But looking at it now—cheap and partially deflated with stickers and paper ornaments plastered all over it—you would have to agree with MJ. This was a downright shameful excuse for a Christmas tree.

All of it was shameful, really. Here you were, scratching away in your notebook with yet another dull pencil, trying as hard as you could to distract yourself from yet another painful wave of emotions. The “tree,” the “sketchbook,” the pencil. They all looked almost about as pathetic as you felt.

Almost.

Bucky was eyeing you carefully, just as he always did. You had a few friends in the past that were pretty empathetic. Bucky, though…

He was on a whole different level.

He was particularly perceptive when it came to picking up on others’ emotions, namely yours. When you first arrived on the unit, you felt an instant kinship with him. You weren’t sure what he was like with people on the outside, but any time you were together, you felt like the only person in the room. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving. He shone a light on things you weren’t willing to say, things most people preferred to ignore. You wondered if that sense of intuition had anything to do with his military training, with his PTSD. It had to have been. Or maybe he was just always like that and those things amplified what was already there. You would never know for sure.

Sharon sat on the bench nearest to the door, fully absorbed in her sudoku book. You turned to look out the window, slowly clenching and unclenching your fists as you tried to hold back tears. It was snowing outside. Not the ugly kind of snow, either. It looked soft, like it would be easy to shovel or build a snowman with. Was it sad that you would be more than willing to shovel the parking lot just to have an excuse to go outside?

Tomorrow would mark six months since your mother passed away. Half a year. You hadn’t seen or spoken to your mother in half a year. Worse yet, tomorrow was her birthday.

It should’ve been, anyway.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a sob that clearly startled Bucky. Your voice sounded strange and shallow, and as you continued to cry, you began to breathe faster and faster. It didn’t take long before tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably.

“Hey, hey, no! Come on, don’t do that,” Bucky said, turning to face you. “Hey, come on. Don’t cry.”

You shook your head, raising both hands to cover your face. Your notebook slid to the floor, the pencil rolling across the room until it bumped up against the inflatable tree. The notebook and your new gift fell to your side. You felt resistance against your fingers, like Bucky was trying to pry them away from your eyes, but you kept leaning further and further away from him. You curled yourself up closer into the corner of the wall, pressing your forehead up against the cool glass of the windowpane. Your chest was starting to hurt from the hyperventilation.

Bucky closed in on you, his chest pressed up against your back as he rested his chin in the crook of your neck. He had never been that close to you before.

Shannon immediately perked up. “James, back up right now. Don’t touch her.”

Bucky ignored her, hooking his arm around you and squeezing onto you even tighter. “Shhh. Come on, cheer up. It’s not so bad.”

After a great deal of squirming, he finally managed to pull your hands away from your face. You turned your gaze towards him and he nodded towards the window.

“See, you’ve got the nice view of all the snow out there, you’ve got your new Christmas present, you’ve got your book here.”

“Our book,” you corrected him, your voice thick and pitiful.

“Ah, there she is,” he chuckled. “Our book. And, uh, you’ve got the…you’ve got the tree.”

You let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. You felt unbearably hot, and Bucky was only making it worse with his warmth. Somehow, though, you didn’t mind. You clung onto him even tighter, a wave of exhaustion rushing over you. You wanted to melt into that exhaustion, into that warmth.

“You’ve got, uh…”

You suddenly felt pressure against your arms, someone’s fingers pressing into them. They were attempting to shake you away from Bucky’s grasp, but he wouldn’t budge.

“James, get off her now!” Sharon yelled.

“Sharon, h-he’s fine,” you stuttered, clutching onto his shirt. You were coughing, struggling to breathe as she yanked on your arms. “Seriously, he’s—”

“No, he’s not. Boundaries, James!” she shouted. “We’ve talked about this! Scott, get in here!"

“Let’s see what else,” Bucky continued, his voice low and soothing in comparison to the yelling reverberating off the walls. “We’ve got Sharon over here, our babysitter.”

Maybe it was the way he was joking around with you, maybe it was his warmth, maybe it was finally getting the chance to experience intimate human contact in such a confined, depressing place. Maybe it was the intention behind it all, a genuine attempt at comforting you. The concentrated effort to get you to stop crying. You weren’t quite sure. But in that moment, you were struck by something you thought had withered and died in you long ago.

The eager and persistent desire to live. To be alive. And not only that.

To be wholly, completely, fully alive.

“And I’m here. You’ve got me. See?” he mumbled. He was so close his lips were almost pressed against your neck. “Nothing to worry about.”

For just a split second, you actually believed him.

It didn’t take long for reality to set back in.

Sharon started violently pulling on Bucky’s arm. At a certain point, he chuckled and rolled his eyes, shifting away from you. Even with one arm, he was still ridiculously strong. He let his limbs go slack and allowed her to pull him up with one quick tug. Her eyes widened, perplexed by his sudden obedience. He rarely, if ever, did what anyone told him to do. You partially wondered if that was why he had been there for so much longer than everyone else.

Staff rushed into the room, followed by a few nosey patients. Once they entered, Bucky raised his hand up in front of his chest defensively, meandering towards the doorway as if nothing had happened. Much to your chagrin, he would probably be monitored more closely when he was around you now.

They couldn’t stop you from talking to each other, though, could they?

Right before he was escorted into the hallway, he looked over his shoulder at you and winked.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

❄️JANUARY❄️

You hadn’t composed a handwritten letter in a very, very long time. You had a penpal when you were growing up, a boy you befriended at summer camp. From what you could recall, it had been a fun experience. You loved the anticipation of waiting to receive another letter, and the rush of excitement you felt when it finally arrived. The writing part was fun, too. You loved the process of filling Peter in on whatever was going on in your life at the time.

You would never forget how sad you were when Peter stopped writing back. You sent him three letters in a row before your mom finally convinced you to give up.

“He probably just moved away and doesn’t remember our address,” was her explanation. “Or maybe it got lost in the mail. He’ll get back to you eventually.”

You were all too happy to accept her version of the truth back then, delusional as it was. Every once in a while you wondered what Peter was up to nowadays. You once even considered looking him up on Facebook or something, but then you realized how psychotic that was and refrained from doing so.

As you stared at the little origami wolf sitting on your dresser, the prospect of writing to Bucky felt a lot less joyous to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear from him. You did. It just hurt you to think that he was trapped in a hospital during the most depressing month of the year. It was just so unfair. You had only been there for a few days, and you got to leave before he did. Granted, his situation was much more dire, and perhaps he only had a few more days left before they were going to let him out.

Likely not, though, based on the fact that he asked you to send him letters. That implied that there would be ongoing correspondence between the two of you, meaning he somehow knew that he’d be there for a while. You just wondered for how long. He probably wondered the same.

He was a “repeat offender” in that particular hospital, meaning he wound up there following a suicide attempt more than once. He had been a prisoner of war, and with that came severe PTSD. You would never be able to forget the sound of him screaming in the middle of the night, waking you up out of a dead sleep from several rooms away. Out of everything he endured, all of the symptoms he had been living with on a daily basis, he always said the nightmares were the worst.

“Hey, on the brightside, they let me have the room all to myself this time,” he had said the morning after one particularly rough night.

Bucky had been suffering so much, and for so long. He didn’t deserve to be under anyone’s control anymore. He hadn’t deserved it to begin with. However, you knew that his physical safety took precedence over everything, and if he posed a threat to himself, maybe it was better that he was there—as upsetting as it was.

To get yourself in the spirit of writing, you had purchased a set of multicolored gel pens. You sent three to Bucky and kept three for yourself. Yours red, orange, and yellow, and his green, blue, and purple. You thought he might get a kick out of them. You hoped he would, at least. When you were in a place that was so bleak and void of color, it was the little things that stuck out to you. They were ballpoint pens, not exactly sharp and lethal instruments, so you were hoping the staff wouldn’t intercept them.

You kept your first letter short and sweet, just so he wouldn’t feel any pressure to write you a mile-long response if he was tired or disinterested. You felt awkward and self-centered writing him a three paragraph update on your life, so you ended it with some questions about how he was, what he had been up to. That was what you really wanted to talk about.

As you went to put his name on the envelope, you stopped yourself short.

Bucky

Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes

You received a reply in less than a week. You were delighted to find that your wish had come true. He had been allowed to keep the pens. Not only that, he had used them to write to you. You thought your decision to give Bucky the cool colors while you kept the warm colors for yourself was an apt one. When you were in the hospital, he was always wearing dark colored sweaters, most of which were black and gray. He told you that when he was first admitted, one of his friends had stopped by and dropped off a bunch of clothes for him to wear. There was one blue sweater he owned that you particularly liked. You weren’t sure why he didn’t wear it more often.

He looked nice in blue.

Hey dollface,

Sergeant Barnes, huh? And here I thought we were on a first name basis!

How are things on the outside? Miss me yet?

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate you writing me this letter. Not sure if you’ll think this is pathetic or not (and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t say anything, would you?), but it gives me something to look forward to. I was having a pretty horrible day—and let’s be honest, every day is a horrible day in this place—but when Sharon told me I had mail from you, my mood was instantly lifted. It reminds me of when my pal, Sam wrote to me back when I was in basic training. That feels like a lifetime ago. It kind of was.

God, I feel so old lately. And I’m only getting older. I’m becoming more and more aware of that with every minute I spend here, the fact that I’m losing time. Wasting time. My sisters came to visit me the other day. I haven’t seen them in a while, probably a good year or so. You’ve only ever known me with long hair, but they were shocked when they saw me. They were absolutely relentless about it. It was strangely comforting.

Sometimes I wish I would have met you when I looked the way I used to. Back before all of this happened. Way back, before I was ever deployed. I was a completely different person then.

Although maybe you wouldn’t have liked me so much back then. I was much more sure of myself. Probably too sure of myself. I had a lot to learn.

You seem to like the person I am now.

I’m not so sure I agree.

I’m slowly but surely getting better. At least that’s what everybody is saying. I’m feeling a bit calmer, less jumpy. Even Dr. Banner can see it. I think the meds are working. They have to be at this point, right? The nightmares are still there, of course. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop having those.

Oh, before I forget - MJ won’t admit it, but I can tell that she misses having you around. She made a little sketch of everyone on the unit the other day, and she included you in it. I might miss you a little bit, too.

Come visit me sometime, won’t you?

James

P.S. - Ever seen a decorated soldier write a letter in purple gel pen before? If I could roll my eyes in writing, I would.

Only for you.

this is a reupload of a story i wrote over a year ago. it's good to be back on this hellsite lol. thank you for reading 💌

#yandere bucky barnes #yandere bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #yandere marvel

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 II

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This one is more of an introduction, if anything.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // Attempted Kidnapping? Violence?

“Your name is Scarab?” I managed to pronounce the Thousand sons name, his little blue, and gold helmet nodded at me. “And you are Atheloca?” I pointed to the little Death Guard, getting a nod too.

“Don’t forget your other two that have been assigned to you.” The physician sounded bored, writing something on his clipboard.

“I don’t think I could Dr. Ryker. They are the most troublesome out of all of them.” I said, turning my gaze to the other two. The little Night lord squeaking out in demand.

“Yes, I know your name Saveth.” I responded to the Night Lord. “And yours too, Sarvak.” Tilting my head to the World Eater, a quiet rumble coming out of him.

“Alright, you are set to go.” Dr. Ryker sighed, clicking his pen. “I hope you do not find any more small Astartes out there, but otherwise keep them safe. Who knows what would happen to them.”

“Understood Doctor.” I sighed, understanding the last part of his words well, remembering the day of an attempted kidnapping.

It wasn’t even a week I had them before someone tried to kidnap the little Astartes. The little warband squeaking at me in a frenzy, their litte forms waving up at me. Urging me to come back.

I only left the room for a second, wanting a little snack, but came right back by their demands to see one of Sharon’s boyfriends (or her one night stands) was trying to forcefully pick up Saveth. Who in turn, looked like he was fighting for his life. Slashing at the man’s bare hands with his talon-like gauntlets, making him bleed.

The man, out of anger. Backhanded the little Night lord away, a tiny thunk going off as he hit the wall, then the floor.

Worry crushed my heart while I rushed in, brushing past the man; who didn’t even look remotely sorry for what he had done and picked up the potentially injured Night Lord from the floor. Sharon coming into the room at the noise, and yelling at her one night stand for being “so cruel.”

Carefully moving the recovering Night Lord into a different room. I covered him with my other hand, providing a small protection around him while he used it to right himself. A tiny hiss coming out of him while I carefully looked him over.

No missing limbs. No weirdly shaped, or bent arms. No bleeding.

Saveth cooed softly at me while I searched him. Yet I ignored his attempts to soothe me. Observing him of any injuries that hit could have given him. My chest getting tighter.

I knew I shouldn't have left them with Sharon’s one night stands. They always brought off a bad vibe. Was I stupid to even think they wouldn’t do anything? Was I even a good caretaker to these little Astartes?

A cold weight on my cheek snapped me out of my racing thoughts. A tiny purring emitting from the little Night Lord. Then another, and another. Each one having their own tone, pitch, and vibration.

I don’t remember feeling the rest of the warband climbing up my clothes to join in with the… purring session, but it soothed me down more than I’d like to admit at that moment.

“As regular, come back so we can check up on them and run some tests.” Dr. Ryker reminded me. Taking me out of my daze. “And hopefully, in no time. They will be back to their regular size.”

“I’m sure they’ll love that.” I stated, putting my hand down on the counter for the mini warband to climb on. Feeling the little pin pricks digging into the fabric of my shirt while they made their way up to my collarbone. Taking their spots they personally made there.

The doctor hummed. “Also, try not to get too attached. They might not want to be with you once they grow back to their original sizes.” A certain dread dropped in my stomach.

“Grow back? So you have something in the works for them?” I asked, focusing on the Astartes health more. Ignoring the tiny sting on my neck.

“Yes, we have something in mind, but it isn’t ready yet.” He confirmed before leaving the room, mumbling something underneath his breath as he shut the door. Leaving us in an empty room once again.

“Well, at least you know you are not ultimately stuck as a small gremlin.” I spoke out loud, earning a couple of nicks, and conflicting squeaks from some of the Astartes. “Ow! I’m not retracting my statement!”

I jumped at another nick. “It’s true! You are small.”

“Ow! You know what? Come here you little-” My hand quickly went up to my neck, snatching the little Astartes who caused the most pricks. A squeak came out of him as I held him firmly in my hand. “You’re grounded.”

Saveth, the little Night Lord could only squeak back at me, and chirp to the warband to help him out to no avail. He was stuck with his consequences.

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 III

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

#warhammer 40k #space marine #space marine husbandry sentience #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #yandere?#oc: sarvak #world eater #oc: scarab #thousand sons #oc: saveth #night lord #oc: atheloca #death guard #introduction of characters

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justreadingfics · 1 year

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Date Night - A “Looking For a Hearbeat” One-Shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You and your boyfriend have just got back together after a long time. Your friends offer to watch your baby daughter so you two can have a date night.

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Sex inside a Car, Fluff.

A/N: Hiiii, I’m still here. Sometimes. This little one-shot was based on these anon asks:

Well, I feel like they banged a lot! lol, it had been quite a while of pent up energy, so yeah, even if sex wasn't the main thing in their relationship, I feel like they had a lot to catch up on that area.

Awh, now I have this headcanon that from chapter 25 onwards, Bucky and Y/n are just constantly touching each other in some way, and that for weeks (maybe even months?) various team members would offer to babysit Summer for a few hours a day, so that Bucky and Y/n could... "catch up" in peace. 😁

Thank you, nonnies. I had a blast writing form them again. And thank you so so much @flordeamatista and @sn0wpiercer. You have no idea how much you two helped me.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

“Vee-vee!”

“Ah… there’s my best girl!” Upon opening his front door Steve reaches for Summer with a big smile as the one-year-old makes grabby hands at him, calling her uncle Vee-vee and promptly leaving your arms to favor his.

Beside you, a chant of recommendations and warnings immediately starts spilling out of Bucky’s mouth, making you roll your eyes at your boyfriend, even though you’re paying attention to check if he’s forgetting something.

After your daughter’s frightening kidnapping a little while ago, you two took a while to feel safe enough to leave her side. But who better to take care of her than a bunch of Avengers like Captain America himself with the help of his new girlfriend, Sharon Carter. It’s no secret that they are willing to give their lives to protect her.

In fact, all of her aunts and uncles would. As soon you you and Bucky got back together, one of them would offer to watch her so you two could have some alone time. They always say it’s all they can do after everything you two have gone through, but you know better. What they really want is to spend time with your baby.

“If she gets sleepy, her unicorn is in the bag; under no circumstances you give her candies, especially after 7pm… Jesus Christ are you even listening Steve?” Bucky glares at his friend, who just kept blowing raspberries on Summer’s tummy all over Bucky’s speech, motivated by the baby’s howls of laughter.

“Ah, there’s my best girl,” Sharon grins, repeating her boyfriend’s welcoming while coming from the kitchen and reaches out for Summer. She greets you and Bucky before mimicking her boyfriend with the raspberry kisses on the delighted little girl.

Holding back a laugh, you nudge Bucky’s side, nodding for him to catch the baby eyes Steve was giving his girlfriend and Summer. Bucky just lets out a huff, still clearly pretty much annoyed by Steve’s lack of attention to his little lecture about how to take care of his daughter.

You roll your eyes at him again, before turning to Sharon, “Are you sure it’s ok? I mean, I know you two offered, but it’s Saturday night, are we ruining any plans of you have?” It was not too long ago that they began dating.

“Oh, please, of course not. We’ve been waiting the whole day to spend a few hours with this beautiful little lady.” She grins at Summer and Steve before turning to you again, “Also, this girl may also need a break from the lovey dovey energy between the two of you. We know we need.” She teases, winking at Steve.

“Alright then, fair enough.” You chuckle, “But please don’t hesitate in calling us for any reason, I mean, any reason at all.”

“Don’t you worry guys, if we need, we’ll do that. But we’ll be fine.” Steve answers, running his hand lovingly up and down Summer’s back as he smiles at Sharon.

“Come on, off you go, right Summer? Off you go.” Sharon grabs the baby’s little hand, wriggling it to shoo you two away.

You don’t argue. Bucky hand Summer’s bag to Steve before you both kiss your baby goodbye. The little girl clearly is fine with spending a few hours apart from her parents, pointing joyfully towards the mini-playground Steve set up for her in his living room.

You have your fingers interlaced with Bucky’s in the elevator heading down to the garage. You can feel the tenseness in his body, it’s always hard for him to part from Summer, even if he knows she would be alright and safe.

He can be such a nervous papa sometimes.

And grumpy.

“Steve, huh? Did you see the baby eyes he was giving Sharon? The dude is completely whipped,” you comment, trying to soothe the papa’s worries away with some easy conversation.

He huffs, keeping the tenseness on his muscles, “Did we tell Sharon about the candy rule? I know Steve will just give Summer anything she wants and then lie about it. Everyone keeps saying he’s shitty at lying, but I know better,” he lets out an unamused little laugh, “That jerk is a magnificent liar when he wants to.”

“Hey, hey,” you turn towards him, finding it hard to hold back a laugh at his little rant.

You can’t help but think he’s adorably sexy.

That big ass man, who’s been through so much and faced it all like a champ, being so nervous and broody about parting a few hours from his little baby.

Actually, it makes the enormous love you have for him grow even deeper inside your heart.

You pull him to you through your interlaced hands, rest your hand on his broad chest and prop a little kiss on his tightened jaw, and then another on the other side, smirking as you feel the tenseness melting under your hand and lips, “Summer will be fine, you know that, right? But…”

You drag your mouth to his neck and his arm circle your waist, pulling you closer, his breath speeding, “If you want, we can call it a night-”

With a tight hold on you, he shifts you two and your back meets the elevator’s wall. You feel his lips and body pressed against yours with the underlying desire that's always been there.

You curl your arms around his neck while his hands explore your body, reaching for as much skin as your short, but long sleeved dress allows him to. It ignites a fire inside you that has always and will always be his, only his.

You take in a deep and needed breath when his lips leave yours. His hands stay on you, one your ass, another cupping the back of your neck. Your mind is still in a bit of a daze when his forehead rests on yours.

“She’ll be alright”, you two say in unison. A smile curls your lips when he laughs.

After the elevator gets to the garage, you two walk to the car, never ceasing to touch each other in some way, hands and lips. When he opens the SUV’s door for you, he kisses your neck, nuzzling against it before letting you get in the front seat.

“Where are we going?” You ask as he gets in the car beside you, grabbing the wheel. You have arranged that date night last minute so there has been no time to choose a place or to make reservations beforehand. “I doubt we’ll find a table at this hour.”

He laughs quietly, while reaching over to place a kiss on your shoulder, like he can’t stay a minute without touching you. “Oh honey…” His hot breath fans against your skin, making your eyes flutter, “What is being friends with Tony Stark good for?” He keeps kissing you, reaching the sensitive skin of your neck. “All we have to do is drop his name and they’ll sit your pretty ass anywhere you want.”

Your chuckle dies out in a moan when his teeth find your earlobe, “Alright,” you whisper, your breath coming out fast as you feel the warmth of his tongue against your skin, “How about that Italian on the 87th? You really liked it there last time.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious,” he whispers, reaching his hand to grab your breast through your dress, with a not so gentle touch.

Your head falls back on the headrest, “And, hum, how about,” you take in a deep breath as he uses his teeth on your neck and his fingers on your nipples, making them harden even with the fabric of your dress and your bra as a barrier, “How about that new Japanese Wanda was talking about?”

“Yummy.” His hand slides down from your breast and your legs open, inviting him.

Biting your lower lip, you wait for it.

When his fingers find you bare down there, his body freezes and he leans back to look at you. His eyes widen but it’s just a second before he squints dangerously at you.

Desire all over his darkening blue eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he sinks a finger between your folds, and you bite your lips, “Look at that… my naughty girl.” He slides his finger up and down, spreading your wetness, “Thinking about all those fancy places to go wearing nothing underneath her pretty, pretty dress. What are you up to, sweetheart?”

“I knew, hah— kne I-.” You gasp as his middle finger presses against your clit, “I knew we would end up in a situation like this eventually.”

“Eventually, huh?” He chuckles, adoration adorns his face as his gaze drops on your lips, “What a naughty momma I have at home...” His sultry low voice caresses your ears, “Thinking about being fucked all day long…” He groans, “That’s all I’ve been thinking about too, baby, having you here like this.”

His mouth seeks yours and he kisses you, bringing a moan out of you as he captures your lower lip between his teeth and speeds up the pace of his fingers in your pussy.

The tightness in your core gets stronger, following the rhythm of his relentless moves. You gasp and you grab his arm by impulse, while, using your other hand, you hook your fingers on his dog tags, pulling him closer to you. He takes that as a hint to drag his teeth and tongue against your jaw and neck.

The air inside the car is hot and you can feel droplets of sweat gathering on your forehead. His name falls out of your lips as your hips grind against his hand and the seat. The coils of desire twist you from inside when his teeth meet your earlobe.

A particularly elaborated curl of his finger strokes your clit, your body freezes before your legs lock his hand between them, and you sob at the strong rush of pleasure that runs down from your core to your whole skin.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come,” Bucky whispers against your ear, gliding his finger lazily up and down your pussy as fervent pleasure washes over you.

Breathless, you tilt your head to kiss him, your tongue twirling around his as the hand you had on his arm reaches to palm his evident erection through his pants, “Baby,” you break the sloppy kiss, resting your hot forehead on his, his breath coming out fast as you keep rubbing your hand on him, “I need you inside me.”

It all happens in a split of a second.

All of sudden your seat is dragged and reclined further back. In a hurry, you start bunching up your dress up your waist as Bucky jumps to your side and between your legs.

With no patience left in you, you help him with his belt and push down his pants just enough to give you space to pull his cock out. You take him in your hand, hard and pulsing.

He seems just as desperate to be inside you as he places his hand over yours to guide himself to your pussy, which is soaked enough to allow him to enter you with ease, despite his ever challenging size.

You both cry out at the sensation of the longed connection and your heels meet the windshield behind him as he starts moving. His hands reach over to hold the backseat behind you to support himself.

It’s an odd position in a not so comfortable place, but you both are too lost in the need to feel each other to care, so you make it work.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he dips his head in the crook of your neck and curl an arm under your it, pulling you impossibly closer, cheek to cheek. He thrusts into you hard and deep and fast, blurring your surroundings.

All you feel is him, his weight on you, his cock filling you up, his deep moans mingling with yours.

You move a hand to sink it beneath his Henley, relishing at the hard and toned muscles under your touch.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

And yours.

The reminder makes you curl your panting lips in a smile.

He whimpers when you bring your legs to wrap the small of his back in a tight hold, like you’re trying to melt into him, into the deep sensations he brings to your body as he sinks in and out of you, your wetness allowing him to move with wanton speed.

You’re so close again, his hip bones rubbing against your clit adds to the feeling of his perfect pulsing cock inside you, hitting that sweet spot he’s familiar with. He cups your breast harshly, the wetness and warmth of his tongue on your neck makes your pussy flutter and your upper body jerks under his weight when a blinding pleasure washes over you for the second time.

He leans back to watch as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth opens in a silent cry, “Yeah, that’s it, baby, come all over this cock,” he encourages before dropping his lips on your neck again, the rhythm of his hips falters and his moans come out in that raspy and maddening sexy sound of his voice.

Your mind is clouded up, dizzy and wonderfully light.

Your arms are firm around him, holding him as he desperately picks up his pace, seeking his own pleasure until his hips stutter once again. He lets out a long groan, his hips thrusting deep inside you before his whole body tenses. Your breath hitches and your lips curl in a delighted smile as you feel the spurts of his desire in you.

Keeping your bodies connected, you two relish into the aftermath of loving each other. Having his heart hammer against yours is a sensation you will never tire of. .

“Are we pushing for another kid already?” You’re the first one to speak, your fingers running down his locks. You feel him smile against the crook of your neck.

“Wouldn’t mind another girl,” he murmurs, prepping a sweet kiss on your skin, making you shrug your shoulder and chuckle.

Of course he would want another girl, just so she turns into as much as a daddy’s girl as Summer.

Maybe one day… Now you rely on your monthly shots to keep Summer as an only child.

At least for a while.

He leans back to look at you, the tips of his hair fall around his incredibly handsome face, and your hands run down his chest, resting there. His adoring smile makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle and it’s a mirror of yours.

Your heart hurts the most delicious pain.

You love this man so much and the most wonderful sensation in the world is to be sure he loves you too, and that you’re both right for each other, no matter what happened before and what may come ahead.

“So, where do you wanna go?” His eyes follow the path of his finger as he gently slides it over the traces of your face, “You know I’ll go anywhere with you.” His blue gaze stares deeply into yours.

You take in a deep breath. Maybe it’s the sensation of him still inside you, maybe it’s the look on his face or the touch of his fingers. But you now know exactly where you wanna go.

“You know what I’m really craving right now?” You ask.

“What?” He asks absentmindedly before pecking your lips.

“Giordano’s.” You giggle when you spot the gleam that flashes in his eyes at the name of the place you order pizza from almost every Saturday night. “Do you want to, maybe, huh, go upstairs…” You skim your hands over his pecks, “Order a big ass pie and, while we wait, we can think about what we’ll want for dessert before picking Summer up at Steve’s?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

The wide grin he gives you before running his tongue over his lips tells you exactly what he’ll want for dessert.

~~~

The End.

(Hope you guys liked it! Feedback is appreciated and longed for!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #looking for a heartbeat

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avengerscompound · 9 months

Text

The Recruit - 30. You

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2656

Warnings: smut (MMFF bisexual threesome. Vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, overstimulation)

Synopsis: When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it. He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time. Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out. It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

30. You

There was a heavy and rapid thud in your ears as you made your way down the hall to Steve’s apartment. Each step you took was nervous and light, like you were tiptoeing down there, terrified you were going to get caught. There was no rational reason to think you were doing anything wrong. Steve was your boyfriend and it had been agreed upon that you would go see him this morning. It was just, with the pressure of having to be the one that spoke to Steve about getting an MRI was starting to stress you out.

There wasn’t even a discernible reason why you were so nervous to do it. It wasn’t like you were going in there to attack him and you’d been there when he’d completely lost control. You weren’t telling him he couldn’t work. You were just worried about him. Even though you hadn’t known Steve at all before his kidnapping, you knew even a couple of months ago this would have been no big deal. Maybe he would have tried to reassure everyone that he was fine, but he wouldn’t get upset about it.

Now? Who could say? His mood was volatile and he’d shown that that temper could translate into violence. You were sure he wouldn’t be violent to any of you, but that didn’t mean he would take it well.

You reached the door and took a breath before knocking.

It took a moment before the door was pulled open, and rather than Steve, you came face to face with Sharon. She was still in her nightgown, a short satin number in pale gray with cherry blossom branches printed on it, and a white satin robe that was hanging open.

“Hey, babe,” she said and kissed your cheek, opening the door to let you in. “You’re up and around early.”

“I wanted to catch Steve before he went for a run,” you said.

She laughed, “You would normally have had to get up a lot earlier to do that,” she said. “That man is pathological. He’s usually out there before the sun. But, we managed to convince him to stay in today. You know -” she lowered her voice to a near whisper - “after what happened. Is that why you’re here?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” you said as she closed the door behind you.

She took your hand and looked into your eyes. “How are you doing?”

You shrugged. “I’m okay. It was pretty scary seeing him like that, but I’m used to combat. I’m just worried about Steve.”

“I think we all are,” she whispered. She shook herself off and gestured down to the bedroom. “We haven’t gotten up yet, so he’s down there. We were just thinking about ordering breakfast.”

She led you down to the bedroom. The door was ajar and both Steve and Bucky were lying in the king-sized bed. The blankets were a complete mess, most of them hanging on the floor, and the very corner was hanging off Bucky’s ankle. Bucky was laying on his stomach with his arm draped over Steve’s thighs and his head on his stomach, while Steve sat up against the bed head, his fingers moving back and forth through Bucky’s hair. The sight of them both was both a relief and a turn-on.

Steve smiled when you entered. It was a hungry smile like your presence had unlocked a whole door of sexual potential for him. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky raised his head to look at you. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his smile much softer and more welcoming.

“It’s Sunday,” you said. “I thought I’d come and hang out.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he looked you over. “You’re wearing way too much clothing to hang out where we are,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. This might get Steve into a better mood, but you didn’t want to comply straight away. “Oh really?” you said. “This has a maximum clothing limit?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve said. “That number is none.”

“But Sharon has clothes on,” you argued.

“She needs to take them off too,” Steve said. “Maybe the two of you can help each other out.”

You turned and looked at Sharon, she was wearing the same bemused expression you were and the two of you burst into laughter. Sharon looked back over at Steve. “If you want us to put on a strip show for you, you could at least ask nicely,” Sharon said.

Steve looked her up and down, his tongue grazing over his bottom lip. It looked like he was weighing up all his options right now. Sharon folded her arms and raised her eyebrow at him. Bucky rolled and looked up at you both with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. “Please. I wanna see you do a strip show.”

You and Sharon stifled laughter again. She looked over at you, her eyebrow still raised quizzically. You shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”

“Who can say no to that face,” she agreed. “FRIDAY, a little music please.”

‘Slow Like Honey’ by Fiona Apple started up. The slow jazz piano started up and you and Sharon began to dance. It was an interesting choice, slow and sensual, but better suited to a romantic slow dance than a strip tease.

You and Sharon turned to face each other, you were so close, that you could feel the heat of her body radiating off her. The two of you began to move together, slowly swaying your hips so you were mirroring each other. You rested your forehead against hers and slid your hands around her waist, pushing the robe back.

Sharon’s hands moved up under your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your skin to Bucky and Steve. Your hands moved to her shoulders and you began to slide her robe off, never breaking the kiss. It was slow and deep, matching the rhythm of the music. You lost yourself in it, Steve and Bucky may as well not have been there at all as Sharon’s hands moved up, bunching your shirt up with it.

You broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt up over your head and immediately you were kissing again as the fabric fluttered to the floor. Each swivel of your hips, each touch, each fast of her skin, added to the feeling that this was just the two of you locked in a sensual dance and not a show.

Your bra was the next to go, slithering off your arms and onto the floor. You moved to her nightgown next, sliding your hands over the slippery surface of the fabric before you pushed the straps down, your palms ghosting down her arms in their wake. She rolled her hips slowly as the fabric caught and it slipped free and fell to the ground around her feet.

Sharon stepped out of the pool of clothing around her feet and danced around you, her hands ghosting over your skin as she moved in behind you, pressing her body against yours. Her breath was hot against your neck and you leaned your head back and ran your hands down your body, sliding them down to your pants. You unfastened the fly and Sharon slowly pushed them and your panties down as you swayed your hips from side to side.

Steve and Bucky were watching on completely wrapped in the performance. They were both sitting up, leaning forward slightly, their hands wrapped around their cocks and pumping them slowly. Steve’s eyes were so blown out with lust they almost looked pitch black. Bucky moved forward and offered you his hand. “Come here,” he said.

You took his hand, and let him pull you away from Sharon and into his lap. You straddled him and pushed your hands into his hair as he pulled you down into a passionate kiss. As the two of you kissed, Sharon crawled up the bed to Steve.

You positioned yourself on Bucky’s lap so his cock sat snug between the lips of your pussy and you started to grind on his shaft the way you might if you were riding your vibrator. You moaned as your slick coated his cock. You were already worked up from the strip teased, you were already soaking, so each roll of your hips was sending shivers running right through you. The head of his cock was rubbing on your clit just right and you jerked your hips quickly trying to bring yourself right to the edge.

Beside you, Steve had pushed Sharon onto her back and was fucking her roughly with two fingers as he held her hands pinned over her head. She moaned and writhed under him and you wondered if she was going to reach her first orgasm before anyone else was even close.

Bucky flipped you over suddenly, so you were on your back and he was on top of you. He looked down into your eyes with a smile. “God, I want to be inside you so bad,” he said as he continued to rub his cock against your pussy.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked.

He kissed you passionately and pulled your legs up so they were pressed against his sides. When he broke the kiss he got up on his knees, put your legs on his shoulders, and thrust hard into you.

You cried out and arched your back, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into you. “Fuck, Bucky,” you moaned. “You’re so big.”

“Mmm… but look at you, you take it so well,” he praised.

Steve picked up Sharon and put her on all fours so she was over your face. He got on his knees behind her and you watched as his cock shoved deep into her. Sharon cried out and braced her hands on the blankets by your head as Steve started thrusting into her at an almost brutal pace. You leaned up and began to suckle on her clit and she let out such a loud moan, that it drowned out almost every other sound in the room.

Bucky grabbed your hips and dragged you around so you were in line with Sharon. It seemed to take her a moment to realize what had happened, but when it seemed to click into place she braced her hand on your thigh and dropped her head down and started licking at your clit.

The world outside completely disappeared. Any concerns or worries you might have had about fitting in, juggling your relationship with work, coming out, or Steve were pushed out of your head and you were reduced down to this pinprick of a moment where pleasure swirled through you, overwhelming all your senses.

The room echoed with the sounds of body slapping against body, moans, grunts, and gasps of pleasure. The scent of Sharon’s arousal filled your nose as your tongue was coated with her slick with each lap of your tongue. You were transfixed at the sight of Steve’s cock stretching Sharon out above you as he pounded into you. Yet even as all those senses were being battered they were completely dwarfed by the feeling of Sharon’s lips tugging on your clit as Bucky plunged his cock into again and again.

You were sent hurtling to the precipice of your orgasm and sent careening over just as fast, your whole body stiffening under Sharon as it tore through you. It left you dazed for a moment, just staring ahead blankly as Bucky used you and you watched the mirrored movement of Steve’s cock slamming into Sharon above your face. As soon as you leaned up and pulled her clit back into your mouth, Sharon’s orgasm hit too. Your face was showered in her slick as Steve shoved in deep, sending droplets out in a fine spray. Sharon cried out loudly and her fingers dug into your thigh.

Neither Steve nor Bucky were even close to being done with either of you. They both began to fuck you harder, the sounds now becoming wetter and sharper as they thrust their hips. You and Sharon came again and again until you weren’t sure where one orgasm ended and the next began. You and Sharon both stopped even being able to use your mouths on each other. You fell back, your eyes rolling back into your head as Sharon let her head rest on your thigh. Each time you or Sharon came, Bucky and Steve picked up the pace so they were just railing into you both, sending jolt after jolt spiking through your bodies.

All sense of time had been lost on you and you just started to beg, chanting the word ‘please,’ over and over.

Bucky’s orgasm hit first, he thrust hard into you, grinding his hips as he released inside of you. You were so swollen and sensitive that you could feel each pulse of his cock as he filled you.

Steve wasn’t too far behind, he pulled out of Sharon, sending another spray of her juices over your face, and with three pumps of his cock he released, thick ropes of come splattering on Sharon’s pussy, and your face and breasts.

“Fuck…” he groaned and flopped back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Bucky helped you and Sharon move before he lay down himself and the four of you just lay there panting, completely and utterly fucked out.

You weren’t sure how long the four of you just lay there riding out your respective orgasm highs, but it was Bucky that got up first. He went to the bathroom and returned with a couple of damp washcloths, and began to clean both you and Sharon up. Steve grabbed his phone from the nightstand and looked at the three of you. “Breakfast?” he asked.

When the food had arrived and the four of you were set up, using Steve’s bed as if it was a picnic rug, you decided to broach the topic of Steve having an MRI and CT scan.

“Steve, about what happened on the mission…” you said.

Steve sighed and picked up his coffee. “I know… I wasn’t myself. I’m working on it.”

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your tone gentle. “About that part. Maybe you should get a scan. You know, an MRI or a CT, or both? You said that they did something to you. Maybe it’ll show up.”

“I’m sure it’s just trauma,” he said. “I’m seeing the therapist.”

Sharon sat up and put her hand on his arm and seemed to be very careful about each word she chose. “You did say they did something to you,” she said. “That they put something into your eye. An MRI couldn’t hurt. Maybe you should have one to rule it out.”

His brows knitted together and his jaw clenched tight, twitching at the corner. “Have you all been plotting this behind my back? I must be really bad, huh? I can’t even deal with my trauma the way I want.”

“It hasn’t been like that,” Bucky said. “We haven’t been planning anything. But we are all worried about you. This is a good idea. In the worst-case scenario, they find nothing and you just have to sit in a tube for a bit. I used to be in tubes all the time. Best case and they do find something and we do something about it.”

Steve huffed out through his nose. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow. Is that okay with all of you? That I just have one day without people poking and prodding at me?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Sharon said. “I’ll let the medbay know what’s going on.”

Everyone fell silent for a little while before returning to eating and chatting like nothing had happened. It was clear that Steve was still angry about the idea, and you hoped that he’d actually go.

// NEXT

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inthememetime · 2 years

Text

I have not slept in 2 days, so my brain is a little more messed up than usual. But I just thought of something that made me laugh so hard I had to pull over. Vlad is canonically from Wisconsin, yeah?

Wisconsin manners Vlad.

Reporter: Why do you call him the Wisconsin ghost?

Amity Parker: Have you HEARD him?

Plasmius proceeds to YEET Danny out of a building: "Stay out! ...and tell your foks I says hi!" He snarls.

His greatest trap for Maddie was a Midwest goodbye that lasted 3 hours.

He will absolutely stop a fight to discuss football, fishing, and whether Sharon next door is REALLY vegan or just wants attention.

He has, at least once, brought over an apology casserole. As Plasmius. It was a little bland, but the ectoplasm really spiced it up.

(Yes, the Fenton parents absolutely flipped because: 1-Danny ate ghost food. Made by a ghost. That tastes good, according to him.

2-It implies ghosts have manners, therefore a society to punish/reward rule breakers/followers

3-Do ghosts feel remorse?!?! What else do they feel?)

He has kidnapped Jazz and Danny to go ice fishing. And proceeded to kick Phantom's ass when the boy told Jack about his secret spot.

Has went ballistic on Cubs, Bears, and Vikings fans multiple times.

This man has absolutely, I guarantee you, grilled brats while watching a ghost kick Phangom's ass at least once.

(Feel free to add on!)

#vlad masters #danny phantom #weird headcanons #dp headcanons #feel free to add

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

Being Heroes, Being Villains

[Image ID: A book cover for a superhero anthology titled “Being Heroes, Being Villains” by Catelyn Winona. A red rotary phone in a pop art style sits above the title.]

A varied collection of superhero stories told in 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person from Catelyn Winona, also known as Caffeinewitchcraft. Ominous Halo - Sharon swore long ago that she would never again be a hero. But when Sunrise, one of the most powerful heroines in the city, needs her help, can she keep her promise? The Wreckage and Ripper - You are the villains' therapist. The villains have kidnapped you. This wasn't covered in school. Madame Science - Life gets a little tricky when Christine's crush is a hero and she's a villain. But, if she quits, everything will be solved! Except he doesn't seem interested? Eighteen different stories come together to create a Superhero universe that seeks to address THE question. What makes a hero? What makes a villain? Boasting four new stories, this anthology merges old and new to create a thrilling reading experience. Those stories that have been previously shared online have been remastered for this anthology, edited and tailored so that they all operate in the same world.

Amazon (X)

Payhip (X)

(Both of these links are ebooks, there is a print version coming!)

#caffeine publishes #superheroes #my writing #superhero story #short story #original story

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cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

Basic Training IV (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, mentions of forced pregnancy, mentions of forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Jane was the one to greet you this time.

“You’ve been eating!”

She looked happy at that, smiling at you as she came to take the empty plate. You didn’t return it, mind wandering to Peter. He’d left days ago, and as thankful as you were for the solitude, you couldn’t help but worry. Once you’d started actually eating, it was like you couldn’t stop. Your body started craving food again, and it was then that you worried you might’ve been…tricked.

Peter said he was going to check on your mom, but how could you know that was true? After all, he was the reason you were even here, and he hadn’t done a single thing to show that you could trust him. In fact, all he’d shown you was the complete opposite. Everything that had happened showed you that you shouldn’t trust him…ever.

“Steve will be happy,” she continued, moving to unlock the bathroom. “You have a big day ahead of you, so you’ll want to scrub good.”

You frowned at that, following her into the bathroom.

“What do you mean?”

Were you leaving this room?

“You’ll be leaving this room today,” she answered your silent question. “You’ll be helping out in the garden with me and Sharon.”

Another woman, another name.

You repeated it to yourself, trying to keep count, and including yourself, that was five women. Which meant five men…at least, but then you thought about the day Peter had shown you Margaret, and there were men there you hadn’t even seen, so there was definitely more than five. The thought overwhelmed you, and you struggled to swallow.

Jane told you about what you’d be doing as you bathed, and when you were done, she had a dress laid out for you on the counter. You eyed it, hesitantly putting it on, confusion flowing through you. When you looked at Jane, it was the first time you noticed she was wearing a dress too. That’s all she’d been wearing, you realized, and so you didn’t question it.

Jane took your arm as she unlocked the door, and it hit you then that you were finally leaving this room. The thought had you shaking, and Jane rubbed your hand in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture. As you glanced over your shoulder at the bedroom, she closed it, speaking.

“Normally, you’ll make sure the bed is made when you first wake up…”

Your eyes met hers as she continued.

“…then you’ll come downstairs and get started on breakfast, but seeing as it’s your first day, and you’re still adjusting, things will be a little different.”

You couldn’t stop frowning at her words, wracking your brain at all of this. You didn’t understand anything, and you looked around as she guided you down the hall. It didn’t take long to realize the house was large, and if you had to guess, this was more of a wing than a simple hallway. The thought was overwhelming, and again, you thought about what an escape attempt would even look like in a place like this.

Jane was talking to you as you walked down the stairs, your eyes roaming over pictures that lined the wall. Some were faces you recognized, like Steve and Margaret with a baby in her arms, and some you didn’t recognize, like a brunette man and woman with strawberry blonde hair. Still, it was all pictures of seemingly happy couples posing for the camera, and considering the reality behind the pictures, the sight made your stomach churn.

“We’re going to get you something in your stomach first, and then we’ll go to the greenhouse.”

She was leading you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“I would’ve brought you food in bed, but…”

She trailed off, looking…worried.

“Steve feels like you’ve been adjusting long enough, and he wants to see you contributing right away, so…”

Steve.

He was clearly the mastermind behind whatever this was, and it only made you more wary of him. You looked around again, taking in the house, and you were surprised at how…nice it was. You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you were expecting some rundown house in the backwoods of this town. Considering how nice the room you’d been staying in was, you didn’t know why it didn’t occur to you that the house would be even more impressive.

The amount of money that went into this place hinted at the amount of money they had…and that terrified you.

The kitchen wasn’t empty when Jane guided you to it, and you blinked at the sight of two women, one of them familiar. You tried not to stare at Margaret, but it was hard. The first time you’d seen her, she’d been naked and was being brutally raped by her so called husband. You swallowed as her eyes met yours, a warm smile on her lips.

“This must be Y/N,” she said, and you were surprised by how…calm she sounded. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

She pulled you into a hug before you could react, and you didn’t exactly hug her back, but she didn’t seem to care. The other woman in the room barely acknowledged you outside of a tight smile, more preoccupied with whatever she was cooking.

“I’m Margaret, but sometimes I’m referred to as Peggy,” she continued, and you nodded.

She glanced at the other woman, and seeming to get the hint, she turned to face you. You noted how pretty she was, but it was a cold kind of beautiful, the kind that made her seem equally terrifying. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders in pretty curls, and her green gaze was unwavering.

“Natasha,” she introduced herself.

You realized that this was Nat…Bucky’s wife. The same woman who had been down in that basement for almost four months, and you looked at her with a gaze that bordered along awe. You hadn’t even lasted a week, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…inferior at the moment.

“Y/N and I are going to be helping Sharon in the garden,” Jane told them as she started to fix you a plate of food. “Something small to get her into the swing of things until Peter comes back.”

Natasha snorted at that, but otherwise said nothing, and you curiously eyed her.

“He’s just off taking care of something for Steve, but he’ll be back in no time,” she told you, turning to you with a smile.

You wondered if that was what Peter told Steve, or if that was simply the message Steve conveyed. Again, you found yourself wondering who Peter was lying to. You or them? You gave her a tight smile in return, and she urged you to go in the hall, promising that she’d be right out. You hesitated at first, but eventually did, and you slowed when her hushed voice carried.

“We’re meant to be welcoming, Nat,” Jane told her.

“Welcoming,” the redhead scoffed. “Right.”

There was a brief silence before she continued.

“Steve wants her out and helping out because he likes being in control, but she’s not okay,” you heard her say. “She’s not ready.”

You heard her roughly put something into the oven just as Margaret spoke.

“Keep your voice down,” she quietly told her.

“He’s not here.”

“…but Tony and Stephen are,” Jane said. “Thor too. If Steve thinks she’s ready then she’s ready, and that’s that.”

Jane joined you moments later, a soft smile on her lips.

You didn’t mention the conversation you’d heard, and neither did she. After eating, Jane took you through the house, giving a brief tour along the way, and you were finding it hard to remember the layout. When Jane guided you through a side door, you were surprised to find it attached to what was obviously the greenhouse. You remembered seeing a few gardens in the backyard, and you frowned.

As if reading your mind, Jane spoke.

“You’ll be outside helping in the other gardens one day, but, for now…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. They were afraid you’d make a run for it, and honestly, if you were outside, right now, you probably would. The thought of getting caught and thrown back down into the basement made you shudder though, and you winced.

“I know this is a lot,” she finally said after some time, looking at you with an honest expression for the first time since you woke up. “…but you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t know why, but those words made your eyes water, and you looked away.

“Hey, hey,” she softly shushed, reaching for you. “It’s going to be okay.”

You shook your head, the tears spilling over, and Jane tried to quiet you.

Your chest grew tight, and the greenhouse felt smaller all of a sudden, like the walls were closing in. The idea that you would get used to this, that this nightmare wouldn’t even be that one day but instead something you saw as your normal life, it was too much. You thought about that picture of Margaret and Steve and their baby, and you wanted to be sick.

Jane was calling your name.

“Y/N, look at me,” she softly demanded. “You have to stop crying. You have to-.”

“What’s going on?”

You jumped at the new voice, and you froze, pressing your hand to your mouth just as Jane looked up. The fear in her eyes waned some, and you didn’t miss the way her entire demeanor softened. She swallowed, briefly glancing at you and rubbing your shoulder before lifting her gaze again.

“She’s still adjusting, Thor,” she slowly told him, gaze almost pleading. “She-she just needs a moment.”

She turned you around so you both were facing him, and she wrapped her arm around you, holding you close.

“Right?” she asked you.

You looked at her before looking at…Thor.

He was huge, and it wasn’t in an insulting way, but more so an observation about his build in comparison to Jane’s. His blond hair brushed his shoulder, and it was partially pulled back out of his face. He didn’t look real, blue eyes standing out so much, and you pressed your lips together as he eyed you. You didn’t know how to take him, but considering he was here with the rest and doing what everyone else was, you decided not to trust him.

You remembered that Jane had asked you a question, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” she whispered, squeezing your arm.

“Yes,” you quickly said. “I just got overwhelmed.”

Thor didn’t respond right away, and you were terrified of what he might do or say. It wasn’t lost on you though that Jane didn’t seem as scared as you. She was very much relaxed against you, and when Thor leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, you surmised that this was her husband.

“It’s a lot, young Y/N, but with my beautiful Jane here, you’ll catch onto the flow of things quickly.”

You didn’t miss the way Jane smiled at him, and it left a bad taste in your mouth. When he looked at you, you froze under the weight of his gaze. His demeanor was friendly, and you definitely weren’t as nervous around him as you were with Steve, but outside of the obvious, there was something about him that unnerved you.

He tapped Jane’s chin before turning away, and it was only then did she exhale. She rubbed your arm again, assuring you that you were okay, before turning you back towards the plants.

You’d been helping out around the house for two days when Peter finally came back.

You didn’t know he was back, of course, in the kitchen with some of the other women and getting breakfast started. You were with Sharon, Natasha, and Pepper. You’d met Sharon in the greenhouse the other day, the blonde woman welcoming you with a small smile. You didn’t know how to take her, and she seemed to think the same of you.

Pepper seemed stern, like Natasha, but kinder. You’d messed up quite a few times over the morning, and as annoying as you knew it had to be, she hadn’t said a single negative word. It took you longer than you wanted to admit that you recognized her from the pictures on the wall, cuddled up next to a brunette man with a goatee. You eyed her strawberry blonde hair.

“Here,” she told you, handing you some cut potatoes. “Toss these into the pan.”

It wasn’t lost on you that they were giving you tasks that didn’t require some sort of sharp object, and it was almost flattering to think they thought you had that in you. You weren’t so sure. Sharon was chopping some more as you did as Pepper instructed, and it wasn’t long after that that you heard her exclaim. You looked over as she hissed, and you stilled at the sight of the blood on the counter.

The blonde was holding her hand under the sink with Natasha’s help, and you faintly recognized that Pepper was saying something to you.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the blood, gaze roaming over it as crawled along the surface…the same way it had crawled away from Pietro’s body. You shakily reached out, grasping the counter, and you couldn’t make out anything in the room. All you could see was Pietro’s limp body sprawled along the pavement, and you sharply inhaled.

You blinked, eyes stinging, and you felt a hand on your arm.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head, but instead of darkness, you saw Wanda collapsing after Bucky had shot her. You saw how easily and quickly she’d died, and it was like you weren’t even in the kitchen anymore. You were running through the trees with MJ, her hand tightly clasped with yours…until it wasn’t.

Someone was calling your name, and you didn’t register why your knees were hurting until you opened your eyes to see that you were on the floor. You tried to stand, but you couldn’t, collapsing every time, and it took you way too long to realize what that loud wailing noise was.

It was you.

Your chest was hurting so much, and Pepper and Natasha were trying to shush you, but you couldn’t stop. Your vision was blurry from your tears, and you held your head in your hands. You were shaking so bad, and you slid down to the floor, forehead grazing the tile, and Pepper’s voice was in your ear.

“Y/N, you have to calm down,” she shakily told you. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help you.”

“She needs to be quiet,” you heard Natasha say, her own voice sounding off. “…before…”

“What’s going on in here?”

You recognized that voice, and it only made you cry harder. None of them answered right away, too stumped by Steve’s presence, and the only sound for a few moments was that of your sobbing.

“She… We don’t know,” Pepper finally said, her hand on your back. “Sharon cut herself, and then she just… It triggered something, I guess.”

You could hear his heavy footsteps nearing you, and he sternly told Pepper to move. She did, and when Steve’s hand made contact with your arm, you screamed. You hadn’t meant to, the sharp sound escaping before you could stop yourself. You pushed yourself away from him, but with nowhere to go, you only pushed yourself against the cabinet. Your nails dug into Steve’s arms as he tried to grab you, and you were crying so hard you couldn’t catch your breath.

“Maybe you should get Peter,” you heard Natasha hesitantly suggest. “He just got back, didn’t he?”

You could only assume Steve took her suggestion because you didn’t feel him anymore. You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to quiet yourself, but you couldn’t stop. You kept seeing their bodies over and over again, MJ’s face as she pushed you away. The blood on your hands…

You felt yourself tilting again, about to sink back down to the floor, when someone stopped you.

Hands were on your face, wiping your tears away, and a familiar voice was shushing you. Peter’s lips brushed your ear as he leaned in, and one of his hands slid to the back of your neck. He softly said your name, once, then twice, before telling you that you were okay. When he pulled away, he wiped your face again, and you peeled your eyes open.

Your gaze met his, and Peter tilted his head at you.

“You’re okay,” he gently told you, a small smile on his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re dead,” you choked out. “They’re dead-they’re gone!”

“I know,” Peter said, pulling you against him. “I know.”

You could feel his hand on the back of your head, the other rubbing circles into your back. He shushed you, standing and forcing you to stand with him. He held your face in the crook of his neck, and you could faintly hear Steve’s voice as he said something. Peter said something back, but you couldn’t make it out.

You tripped over your own feet as he kept you against him, guiding you out of the kitchen. You almost collapsed again going up the stairs, but Peter kept you from falling. His fingers dug into your waist, and the other hand wrapped around your arm. You were too consumed by the memory of your friends’ murders to care about the close proximity, legs trembling and heart racing.

When he finally got you inside of your room, he didn’t stop you this time when you sank to the floor. Your forehead was pressed to your knees as you brought them up, and you wrapped your arms around your legs. You cried so much your head was starting to ache, and it was only when your sobs died down into soft sniffles did Peter speak again.

“I have something for you…something I think you’ll want to see…”

You slowly looked up at his words, remembering why he’d left to begin with. Peter was standing over the bed, reaching into a duffle bag, and you watched him pull out some pictures. Your lips parted as he neared you, and he knelt before you, handing you the pictures. With one look at them, your eyes watered again, but for an entirely different reason.

It was pictures of your mom checking her mailbox. She had a phone pressed to her ear, and you couldn’t stop flipping through them. You felt Peter wipe your face again as you did, your hands shaky, and more tears spilled over as you studied her face.

“She looks so sad,” you tearfully mumbled. “So worried.”

It was true. You could see it on her face, in her eyes, and it made your heart clench. You couldn’t imagine what she was going through, and you started crying again. It was interesting, because by anyone’s standards, you were in a far worse situation, but all you could think about was what it was doing to your mom.

Peter sat with you as you repeatedly flipped through the pictures, and you wiped your face.

“I’m never leaving…am I?” you asked after some time.

The words came out choppy, shaky, and you looked at him. You held his gaze as Peter reached out to brush away a stray tear, and he moved closer.

“No, pretty girl,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No.”

The pictures fell into your lap, and you dropped your face into our hands. Peter let you cry, and you didn’t know how to feel. You hated him, and how could you not? He was the reason you were even here. He’d wanted you, and so he took you, but then you’d think about Steve and how he punished Margaret, and just how mean he was…and you found yourself wanting to be grateful to be stuck with Peter.

…but you didn’t want to be stuck here, at all.

You felt Peter take the pictures, and you lifted your gaze.

“I didn’t tell Steve what I was really doing…”

You frowned at that, and you realized that Peter had lied to him. Not you.

“So…” he reached out, gently taking your chin as he held your gaze. “This will be our little secret, right?”

You faltered at that, frown deepening.

“If Steve finds out, I won’t be able to go and see her again.”

“I don’t want you to,” you whispered.

It was just as painful as it was exciting to see her and see how she was doing. You weren’t there, and you never would be again, and the thought made you so sad. It felt like you were just torturing yourself, and you shook your head.

“I can’t…” you trailed off, more tears spilling over. “She has no idea if I’m even alive, and I can’t see that.”

Your head drooped.

“I can’t watch her mourn me.”

Especially when you weren’t even dead, and that only made you think about MJ’s parents, Pietro and Wanda’s. They were in the same boat, you assumed, only their children were dead. You wondered what they did with their bodies, wondered if they at least let them be found so they could be buried or if they just… You looked away, more tears spilling over, and Peter pulled you against him when you started shaking.

You could feel your chest tightening again, and Peter pressed his face into your hair.

Sleep was hard to find.

You were on the floor again now that Peter was back, slipping out of the bed the second his breathing grew light. You’d been staring up at the ceiling for hours, thinking about your mom and your friends. It was too painful, but you couldn’t stop, replaying the memories in your head and thinking about how much your mom had seemed to age in such a short time.

It made you want to cry again, and you pushed back the tears, sitting up.

You felt almost…pitiful. All you’d done was cry and mope and lose your mind at the sight of blood. You thought about Natasha, finally putting a face to the name of the woman who’d lasted almost four months down in that basement, and you hadn’t even lasted a week.

You peered over the bed, looking at Peter as he slept.

Yes, he’d done a nice thing, and no, he wasn’t Steve, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Peter could let you go, and he wouldn’t, because no matter how he may have felt about Steve’s methods, he wanted you here. You were here because he wanted you here, and you slowly stood. You knew the door would be locked, but you tried anyway, and you weren’t proven wrong.

You tried to think of where Peter kept the key, and you bit your lip.

Searching for it without turning on a light was nearly impossible. You didn’t think Peter would be stupid enough to just leave it in either of the nightstand drawers, but you were shocked to find them locked anyway. A few tears escaped, and you pressed your lips together. The closet door was always locked at night too, and you pressed your hands to your eyes, swallowing down a sob.

You were just about to try the door again when Peter’s voice startled you.

“What are you looking for?”

You jumped, hand tightening on the knob as you pressed yourself closer to the door. You didn’t say anything, and light soon flooded the room as Peter turned on the lamp. You kept your gaze on the wood, afraid to look at him, and you shuddered when you heard him push himself to his feet. You pressed our forehead against the door, and you flinched when Peter touched your arm.

“Do you want to be sent to the basement?”

Peter’s voice was low, but you heard home, nonetheless, shaking your head.

“Do you want…do you want Steve to tell me to drag you outside, tie you up to a tree and-.”

“No, no,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No.”

“Well, that’s what’s going to happen if he catches you trying to escape…”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“That’s what would happen if I weren’t a better man, and I told him that I caught you trying-.”

“I’m sorry!”

Tears spilled over.

“Do you know how much I had to convince Steve to let you stay up here after what happened yesterday? He wanted to make an example out of you,” Peter whispered, his fingers grazing your arm. “He wanted to throw you down in that basement for a month.”

Your stomach turned at the thought, and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt Peter take your arm, slowly pulling you to him, and he backed up until he was sitting on the bed, taking you with him. Your head drooped, eyes on your lap, and Peter wiped your cheek.

“Things could be so much worse for you,” he whispered, leaning in, lips grazing your cheek. “I’m trying to help, but you have to help me.”

You sniffed, and Peter straightened the sleeve of your nightgown.

“Help me help you.”

You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs, and Peter stroked your face, playing with your hair.

“Okay…?”

You sniffed again, briefly closing your eyes, and you gave him a hesitant nod. Peter sighed, and you felt his hand drift, tracing circles into your back.

“How about this…”

He moved closer.

“You sleep up here, tonight, because now I feel like I can’t trust you.”

“No, I-.”

“Sleep up here with me…and I won’t tell Steve about what you tried to do.”

You froze at his words, blinking, and you looked away. The thought of sleeping next to Peter made you want to be sick, but at the same time, the thought of Steve finding out that you’d tried to escape made you want to die. It made your blood run cold, heart dropping to your stomach, and you slowly looked at Peter.

His brown eyes were warm, no hint of anger in them, and he reached up, gently grazing your jaw with his fingers.

“What do you say, pretty girl…?”

You looked down, heart threatening to leap from your chest, and against what you wanted, you gave him a shaky nod. Peter softly urged you to your feed, gently taking your hand. You couldn’t stop crying, silent as tears spilled over, and Peter shushed you, tucking you in. He sat on the edge, hovering over you with one hand pressed into the bed on either side of you.

His dark brown hair kissed his forehead, and the smile he gave you was meant to be reassuring you guessed.

“This will be our little secret, okay?”

You held Peter’s gaze for a while, playing with the comforter. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t tell Steve, and even though you didn’t, at least not fully, you also didn’t have a choice. Sleeping next to Peter for one night was nothing in comparison to however Steve would want to make an example out of you.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed.

His smile widened at that, and you remained still as he stood. Peter walked to his side of the bed, the room bathing in darkness before he joined you. He didn’t move closer nor even reach out for you. He stayed on his side as he sought sleep once again, and against what you wanted, your body started to do the same.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter Parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #dark peter parker #marvel imagine

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girlactionfigure · 3 months

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It’s been 100 days since Tal Shoham, 38, was taken hostage by Hamas terrorists on October 7 from Kibbutz Be’eri. Tal was kidnapped along with his wife, Adi Shoham, his daughter, Yahel, 3, and son, Naveh, 8, as well as his mother-in-law Shoshan Haran, his wife’s aunt Sharon Avigdori and her daughter Noam, 12. Tal’s family were released from captivity, he is still being held captive. I personally know Tal’s family, and even though his wife and children have been released, their lives remain in limbo. We must all do all we can to bring Tal and all the hostages home, NOW!

#Israel #October 7 #100 Days #bringthemhomenow

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andydrysdalerogers · 4 months

Text

Yours Submissively ~ Devious

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open! Only six episodes left!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Incinta

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Ring!

“Hello?”

“Hi Sharon, its Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, sorry to call. I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh, is there a problem?”

Steve sighed. “Belle left. She found out I was lying to her and she left.”

“What about Bucky?”

“He left as well. Something about being on her side. Haven’t heard from him.”

“I’m so sorry Steve. What can I do?”

“Can we meet? I just need a friend.”

“Of course. The club? Ten PM?”

“I’ll be there Sharon. And thank you. I know we left it on bad terms.”

“Its ok. I know it wasn’t you. See you in a few hours.”

“Bye Sharon.”

“Bye Steve.” Sharon hung up and turned to a sobbing and gagged Belle. “I knew he would come back to me. He always does.” She does a little dance and spin.

Belle thrashed in her chair, screaming against the gag. She couldn’t believe what she heard. Her Steve wouldn’t leave her like this. The tears streamed down her face.

“We’re ready for her to be examined.” Beck came in to see Belle a mess of tears. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, just had a call she didn’t like,” Sharon smirked.

“Oh,” Beck feigned interest, “from who?” The couple cackled at Belle’s sobs. “Get over it sweetheart,” Beck snarled. “We have some test to conduct to make sure you are at top notch condition. I’m gonna make sure that you make as many heirs as possible for HYDRA.” He lowered his face to look her straight in the eye. “I’ve always wanted a big family,” he whispered to her. Belle thrashed as two goons came to carry her out to the exam room.

“I need to meet with Steve in a couple of hours. You good here?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Beck turned away from her.

“What is up your ass?”

“The fact that you just want to move on from me to Rogers.”

“Listen baby, the only way this plan works is if I get close enough to Steve that we can slip him the poison. We get the Avengers focused on saving his life, then we can do with Belle whatever we want. Baby, you know I’m yours.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her harder, shoving his tongue in her mouth.

“Got it,” Bucky smirked as Steve hung up. “They are utterly moronic. They are in an old HYDRA base, 20 miles north. I know it well.”

“Ok then we go,” Steve stood up.

“We have to think about this,” Sam says.

“NO! We are talking about my family. My wife, my baby!”

“We get that Steve,” Nat says rubbing his arms. “We are going to get them back. But if we just barrel in there, they could kill us or worse, her. Let’s just plan it out.”

Bucky pulled the blueprints up. “The base only has one level above ground. When HYDRA fell, it had been abandoned, I checked. However, I just checked local police and there have been reports of activity on the property. When checked, nothing is there, which tells me that they are working strictly underground.”

“If they are underground then how was I able to connect to Sharon?” Steve asked.

“That tells me that they are only one level down, which is good for us.” Bucky tapped the screen. “There is a secondary entrance that does directly to the second level of the bunker. Right below where they would be. That’s where I suggest we enter. Should be fairly easy to infiltrate and extract.”

“The tests they are going to want to run for fertility take three hours to run once it hits the machine,” Bruce explained. “That’s our time frame.”

“What if they do a standard pregnancy test?” Natasha asked.

“Let’s hope they are stupid enough to skip it,” Tony grimaced.

Steve looked at his team, his family. “Three minutes, get what you need.”

Belle kept trying to move her arm to stop the doctor from drawing blood. He could see Beck’s jaw tick with frustration. “Stop moving, you brat!” He reached over and slapped her. He grabbed her chin. “This is going to happen so unless you want the needle to go straight through your arm, stop moving.”

Belle cried as they held her arm down to take what felt like two pints of blood. “It should take a few hours Dr. Beck.”

“Good, once we have the results, then the seduction can begin,” he commented.

As the team headed to the jet, Steve stopped. “Shit, what about Sharon?”

“I will take care of it, Captain,” Vision said. He transformed his body into Steve’s.

“Ok, that’s weird,” Sam said.

Steve stared at himself. “Uh, ok. The club is in Manhattan, corner of 3rd and 73rd. House number is 373. The password to get in is Gemini.” Vision nodded and made his way out. “Vision, you understand that…”

“I must be rude about Miss Belle, yes I know. Please know that while I am not comfortable with lying, I will do this to protect your family. If you listen on comms, it is merely a ruse.”

“Thank you, Vision.” Steve watched the android fly out of the tower. He looked at the team. “This is gonna work right?”

Tony looked at him with concern. “Of course,” without sounding confident.

“Great.”

Quinten Beck couldn’t believe the luck he was having. He found the HYDRA heir, putting into place a decade worth of research and longing to create a new Hydra. He had an hour to go before the results would be completed. All he wanted was to avenge his family. The battle of New York took everything from him. His whole family had been visiting the city when the aliens descended. He survived by luck alone. He had been in the store, buying something for his sister when a piece of building landed outside. It took days to recover the bodies of his parents, sister and fiancé.

At first, Beck threw himself into work, trying to find ways to control incoming threats. But Stark refused, saying that Stark Industries no longer created weapons. Beck didn’t make a weapon but a way to stop incoming threats. He was fired, throwing him into a tailspin. He did research on the side as he worked menial jobs to keep afloat. Until he was able to create a false identity and get in with AIM.

Beck snorted to himself at the thought. Aldridge Killian was an arrogant piece of shit, but his work led Beck to finish his work. Now, if he held all the cards, the heirs of HYDRA, he could be unchallenged. He could control the world.

He walked down to the cell holding the princess of HYDRA, the beautiful Isabella. She was huddled in the corner, tear tracks down her cheeks, her violet eyes ringed in red. When Beck entered, she curled up more, trying to protect herself. He kneeled next to her. “You know princess, your husband is the main reason you are here. I would have been found but it just makes it sweeter to take what’s his.”

“Don’t call me princess,” Belle whispered.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want. You know maybe I want a taste of what I have stolen.” He licked his lips. “See why the Captain chose you.” He pushed her down on the bed and lifted the gown to expose her to him. His fingers dipped below her panties and swiped roughly at her slit. Belle screamed at the touch, so foreign to her. Beck brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his eyes and moaning. “So delicious. I’ll be back princess.”

The team landed half a mile from the bunker to avoid alerting anyone of their approach. Steve placed the shield on his back but kept his helmet off. He wanted Beck to see him when he tore him apart. How dare this man put his hands on his wife, his baby. He clenched his fist as Bucky took over to assign the teams.

“Sam, you and Nat go to the front. Make sure no one escapes that way. Tony, Wanda, you will be back up to us. Steve, you, me, Peter and Clint will go in together and split up to sweep. After the entrance, it splits two ways. Peter Clint, take the right and we’ll go right. Then we can head up the stairs to the level where Belle is at. Once we clear the second, Tony, Wanda, head on it.”

“Take down anyone you meet,” Steve instructed. “Except for Beck.”

“Cap, maybe…” Sam started.

“He’s mine,” Steve continued, ignoring Sam. “If you find Belle, get her out, no matter what.”

Bucky nodded. “Let’s move out.” He let Steve walk out and stopped Sam. “I’ll watch him. I won’t let him lose himself.” Sam nodded as he followed his wife.

The team enter with precision, sweeping the second floor, confirming it was empty as Bucky had predicted. “Cap, I’m sensing someone coming down the stairs,” Peter said over the comms.

“Ok, Peter, Clint, hang back and have cover. Buck, right side,” Steve whispered into the comms. They took positions just as they heard footsteps on the stairs. Two HYDRA agents rounded the corner, chatting. Bucky grabbed on into a choke hold while Steve slammed his shield into another, knocking both out. Peter webbed them to a pole and the team moved up the stairs.

Bucky flipped on his infrared on his rifle. “I see three on the first room on the right, two on the left. There are only five rooms on this floor.”

“Ok, Stark, Wanda, have you entered?”

“Just entering the second floor now,” Tony responded.

“Ok, we wait for backup,” Steve says. He knows. He knows he needs help to get to his wife no matter how anxious he is to get to her. They needed to get to her alive and unharmed and charging into this battle would be detrimental to her safety. As he waits for backup his mind drifted to a conversation he had with her when they were getting to know each other so long ago.

“The world is safe again. They don’t need Captain America. So, I moved to business. I was good in school with numbers. And people.” “Would you?” “Would I what?” “Pick up the shield again?” “Only if I needed to.” “Like?” “To save someone I love.” Belle chewed on her pita to contemplate that. “So not to save the world?” “Is my loved one there?” “I guess so.” “Then I guess I would save the world. Again.”

He lifted the shield and placed it back on his back. He would do anything to save her, and it meant saving the world. Tony and Wanda appeared behind them and the six of them looked into the hallway. “One team, one door,” Steve instructed.

They cleared four rooms quickly, when Steve heard a blood-curling scream from the last door. It took Clint, Tony and Bucky to hold Steve back from rushing into the room. “Wanda,” Bucky said, “form a shield. Tony, Clint, if you get a clean shot, fire. Peter, be ready to web up any escaping enemy. Steve, look at me.” Steve turned his face to his best friend. “Our priority is to get to Belle. This is the biggest room. She’ll probably be in the back. Ready?”

Steve nodded and put his shield in front of them. “Bucky?”

“We have this punk. We are going to get them back.”

Them.

His wife and his baby.

Wanda put her shield up and used her magic to open the door. Shots began to hit the shield as Tony flew in and fired at the HYDRA agents. A couple stumbled out as Clint disarmed them. After a minute, the shooting stopped and Steve entered, Bucky right behind. As an agent appeared, they were taken down. As smoke cleared, Steve saw her. Her violet eyes red rimmed, a hand on her throat. She gasped when she saw him, but the hand tightened, making her whimper.

“God, I love that sound,” Beck taunted. “Does she make that noise for you Captain? Bet I can make her do them louder and more often.”

Steve clenched his fist and jaw. “Let her go.”

“See, I can’t do that,” Beck shook his head. “I need her to build the HYDRA empire. Just needed 15 more minutes for all the results. I guess now, either you can watch her die or she can watch while I torture and kill you.”

“Would you really injure a woman who is pregnant?” Steve asked. He watched as Belle’s eyes widen. She thought back to her visit with Bruce. She thought it was just a bug, but Bruce wanted to make sure it wasn’t any side effects from her attempted kidnapping. She didn’t dream that she would be pregnant.

Beck’s eyes flamed with rage. “No, Sharon would have told me if you… the test will confirm…”

“You did a blood test but not a urine test,” Belle whispered. Beck grabbed her throat tighter, and Steve took a small step forward.

“Watch what you do Captain. I have no problem tearing her throat out. Sharon said you were waiting to have a family.” Beck snorted. “Knew I should have killed that bitch. She said you told her you were waiting for a family.”

It was Steve’s turn to snort. “I knew she had been spying. Glad all that false information she got from Devon was worth it.” Steve looked at his girl and smiled. “I knew she was up to something, my love.”

“God, I’m going to throw up,” Beck sneered. He drew his weapon and pressed the barrel against Belle’s temple. “You have two options Captain. Walk away, let me raise your baby to be the head of HYDRA or I kill your girl, your child and then you two.” He cocked the gun. “What do you say?”

“Neither of those things are going to happen,” Bucky growled.�� “Sweetheart, quando te lo dico, fai la cosa.”

Steve looked confused until he saw the resolve on Belle’s face. “Everything is going to be ok, sweet pea. I’m going to take you home, ok?”

“I love you, amore mio.”

“I love you, sweet pea.”

“Now!”

Belle rammed her elbow into Beck, causing him to loosen his hold on her and dropping the gun, setting it off. She pushed away from him and towards Steve as Steve threw his shield. He caught her just as the shield hit Beck in the chest. He doubled over and landed on his knees. Bucky aimed his rifle to his head. “Move and die.”

Belle sobbed as Steve held her to his chest. He couldn’t look away from Beck as he whispered words of comfort to his love. “I’ve got you baby. I’ll always come for you.” He looked at Bucky. Bucky nodded and Steve backed himself and Belle out of the room. He scoped her up in his arms, she threw her arms around his neck as the rest of the team flanked them. He covered her ears just in time. The shot echoed around them.

The HYDRA revolution had been neutralized.

“Steve?”

He looked down at Belle to see the blood billowing on her shirt. “No! NO!”

Belle felt the tears in her eyes pour over. She hadn’t felt the shot, but it seared through her body. “I’m sorry Steve. I’m sorry for running.”

“No, you’re gonna be fine.” He was running towards the jet, as Tony flew forward to get it started. “You and our little peanut are gonna be just fine.”

Belle wanted to believe him, but her eyes clouded. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you but this is not goodbye. Belle? Keep your eyes open!”

“So tired, Stevie.” Her eyes slowly closed.

“Belle!”

“Isabella!”

“NO!”

Is this a bad time to mention that I am taking a few days off?

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