#tattoo clint

[nataliasquote]

Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake

Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia

wc: 3.6k

note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry

-⧗-

Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.

Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.

And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.

“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”

But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.

“I think I want a tattoo.”

Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”

“You know, the permanent drawing-“

“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”

Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”

Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.

But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.

She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.

Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.

That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.

Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.

“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.

“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.

“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”

“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”

Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.

Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”

“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.

But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“

“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.

“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”

Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.

“But she’s a kid?”

“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”

“Scarier than me?”

Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”

Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?

~~~

With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.

Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.

Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.

Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.

“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.

“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”

Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.

The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.

“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.

Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.

“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.

“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”

“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.

Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.

“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”

“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”

Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.

“I love it, I really do.”

Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.

The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.

“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”

Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.

But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.

“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.

Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.

“It’s perfect!”

“Then I’ll get started.”

Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.

Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.

“You’re now free to look.”

Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.

A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”

Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.

Her smile.

The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.

“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.

“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.

Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.

“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”

“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.

“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”

“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.

And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.

Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.

Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.

With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”

Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.

“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.

“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”

Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.

But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.

Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.

“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”

“Nat-“

“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”

She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.

What was so wrong with that?

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #tattoos #clint barton

[notacyborg]

My Hawkeye tattoo is 12 hours old! By Sam Rusk!

#marvel tattoo #hawkeye #clint barton #matt fraction #david aja

[randomstuffjustrandom]

Thor’s tattoos

Mother, Father, Heimdal, Loki, Tony and Natasha.

These are the people that he loves. These are the people he cares for the most. These are the people that have passed. This shows that Thor doesn’t know what happened to the rest like Steve being old or Clint being depressed. He himself hasn’t been the same either and he has a hard time accepting that things will never be the same.

#thor love and thunder #Thor #loki #loki laufeyson #Tony #tony stark #natasha romanoff #natasha #steve #steve rogers #clint #clint barton #avengers #odin #queen frigga #heimdall #tattoos #thor odinson

[pandagirl45]

Thor: *explaining his tattoos* thus was for winning the pit of woes, my father was upset yet proud I have done it

Thor: *points to one on his arm* this was from being the one who found and slayed the great beast of the damaged woods

Thor: *points to a ring like tattoo* this was from vowing to my fair bruce *points to a tattoo on his wrist* this is to my war friend, hulk

Clint: so... no one knew you were up to your gills in tattoos

Thor: *laughs proudly* only bruce, loki too, but loki has a tattoo all over his arms as to his God hood of the tricky and mischief, mother of monsters, and father of fire

Clint:...why is that hot?

Thor: *laughs proudly* may you have many reflections of your battles one and memories to have young barton *walks off with his bowl of cereal*

#clint barton #thor odinson #tatted up thor came back #thor covered in tattoos like in some norse stories #also loki is consider a god of fire in some variants #loki having arm tattoos too #he covers them up

[navybrat817]

Hey Navy! I see that others are asking for Ari to be included in the Tattoo Verse (let's face it I've agreed with this Brilliant ask😉) but would you be at all against CLINT being added??? Or have you thought about writing any Clint fics...Love your fics just thought I'd throw this in no pressure..THANK YOU FOR BRINGING YOUR FICS TO US YOUR WONDERFUL

Hi, lovely! I appreciate the love for my fics. ❤️ Clint exists as a very minor character in the tattoo series. I don't plan to give him his own arc at this time, but it could change down the line.

I really wish my thoughts could translate to the docs so I could give you lovelies the fics currently in my head. 😂

Love and thanks. ❤️❤️❤️

#navybrat answers #fic ask #howling commandos tattoo au #clint barton #hawkeyes queen #sending love ❤️ #asks are always appreciated

[knowseverythingaboutyou]

@bokketo asked:  Does Maria come back to Clint sitting with a potted plant in his lap, mournfully cooing at the wilting petals? Maybe. // flowershop au of course

Maria really should start refusing to do deliveries. It’s not as if anyone ever says thank you, and there’s something infuriating about corporate parties. She hopes that they’re at least going to give the centerpieces away like they do at weddings. She and Clint have put too much work into them to for them to just be thrown out at the end of the day. If they want her plants, they should have to come and pick them up themselves. Only — well, not many people would do that, and then she’d just have a shop full of flowers and nowhere to put them. “You know, music is supposed to work better than just pouting at your plants,” Maria says, coming to a stop behind where Clint is perched behind the counter. “Also, you’re not supposed to be sitting on the furniture where customers might see you. Apparently it’s unsanitary.” She doesn’t really give a shit as to what people might see in their shop — they either want their flowers or they don’t. “One of the neighbours shoved a note under the door. The tattoo shop is hosting an open mic night? I guess. Or maybe it’s a concert.” She dangles the note at him. “For folks who get paid to write on skin, they have horrendous handwriting otherwise. We’re either invited, or they’re apologizing for the noise in advance if that’s not our thing.” She leans over his shoulder, poking one of the leaves. “Give it a few tablespoons of water now, then a few more before you go home. It should be fine tomorrow. This one’s just cranky. Move one tiny thing nearby and it sulks for days.” Who knew that plants were actually drama queens? “What did you get up to while I was out with the van?”

#bokketo #bokketo: clint barton #v: florist/tattoo au #[answered ask] #queue a message

[neutralbrick]

handful of character refs

#demons #tattoos #angels #Illustration #nudity #photos #oc tag #oc lovebites #oc clint #oc jamal #sketchingskeletons

[hxllblazer-a]

It catches Clint's eye and forces a pause from him, fingers stopping mid-drum as his eyes narrow in thought. A sigil, perhaps, or a relic of times past. He's sure the reason in there is painted in shadows. But for now, he leans over to tap said new discovery and grin. "Ah, I recognize this one. The ancient signal that can only be translated to-" A smug little grin as he kisses his temple. "Very attractive. Kinda bold of you to advertise like that but suppose it's only sayin' what everyone can already see."

The sudden attention has his breath caught once he was able to get at least one arm into his shirt. A puzzled look, eyes straining a little to glance at his shoulder—and John immediately isn’t sure if he should groan or laugh at that. Well… he could honestly give Clint some credit for creativity.

“Mean, better than the real meaning which is don’t get pissed when you’re depressed as shite an’ listen to your mates that gettin’ YNWA on you is a good idea.” A touch of nationalistic pride, perhaps, but it didn’t really stop John from shaping his head against those lips as he tugged his shirt the rest of the way on. “Liverpool thing, means ‘You’ll never walk alone’. It’s a song, ‘lieve it or not, and our football team’s bleedin’ anthem—or so I’ve been told. Don’t really pay much attention to the national past time anymore.”

God, he hadn’t thought about that in forever. The letters had to have been absolutely faded by now… “But  yeah, the ancient lesson it carries? Don’t get drunk while you’re right touched or you'll forget about the things you go and do.”

#firelightfables #its probably the only drunk regret tattoo he's got #✦✦DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? -- (asks) #✦✦INSANE PRATTLE -- (in character) #✦✦WE CAN PRETEND WE'RE NORMAL PEOPLE -- ( john x clint )

[rubickk7]

New Fic/WIP - Stained Glass Windows

I started posting up a new WIP today. Explicit Clint/Coulson. Please check it out here.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about myself over the past two months,” Phil said. “Reflecting. I’ve done a lot of reading. Research. About sexuality. Specifically sexual identity crises in middle-aged men.”

“And what did all your ‘research’ lead you to?” Clint asked, swiping his fingers over Phil’s skin, enjoying the little sparks that traveled through his body with every touch.

“More confusion. A lot of things I thought were black and white just—aren’t.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “Lots of gray in there.”

“Lots of color,” Phil said, his bright blue eyes staring right into Clint’s.

~~~

Clint is a gay, nearly-deaf veteran/ex-carnie that owns a tattoo shop with his best friend. Phil is a dedicated SHIELD agent that keeps to himself and is mostly satisfied with the life he leads. He’s also totally straight.

Or at least, he thought he was.

#phlint #bowtie #shieldhusbands #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #clint barton #phil coulson #rubiwrites #clint x phil #phil x clint #tattoo artist au

[notacyborg]

We are at almost three weeks and it’s healing so well

#clint barton #hawkeye #tattoos #Clint Barton tattoo #Hawkeye tattoo #aw coffee

[psuedofolio]

Last week on my character a day thread was more "Magical Girl SCP" characters and I'm realizing I didn't share the pictures from the last time I brought out the psudo scp universe characters so here they are. I'll make the whole story someday. Lore/flavor text is as follows: 1: Fairbanks would often have to insist Isabelle stop skipping her small arms training. She rarely said it, but she was very fond of the junior researcher. And she knew just how unsafe the SAFE Research Department could be.

2: Fairbanks' Notes on the Vampire, "Drymouth."

After 21 days without feeding, she will enter a state of altered consciousness and will speak true prophecies. The Board believes it is worth the ethical costs of starving her. I believe she uses her prophecies to guide us to our destruction.

3: Partial Transcript: Tattoo Parlor, 3:25 PM

Subject X66: "I'm still kinda nervous about the pain, ya know. I'm sure you get that a lot."

Witness: "I... what is... Is that a body mod?"

Subject X66: "What are you talking about?"

Witness: "Holy fuck it moved!"

4: Codename Sunshine is the first entity to take a role in DIR Fairbank's "Special Taskforce." Though the Director believes she is wholly reliable and a potential asset for our field agents, many are skeptical. Her ability to "transmute light into burning liquid" is quote: "Scary AF."

5: Agent Nathan Collier returned to work with REDACTED three months after the incident with Valeria's escape. His personal heroism in subduing the entity aside, it was decided he was unfit for field work. Instead he was reassigned to the SAFE Department on so called "babysitting duty."

6: Ben died a few years ago in an unrelated accident, but ever since then what appears to be his "ghost" continues to check the halls for anomalous readings. Once we calibrated his scanner to account for his own emanations, he returned to being a valued member of *redacted*

7: What limited things we do know is REDACTED's body is made of particles which "absorb" em waves of all kinds, from light to radio. Though REDACTED manages to bypass nearly every security measure we have, they have no connections or intentions that qualify as a threat.

8: Contrary to popular belief, Franklin is NOT an anomalous entity. He is merely a holdover from REDACTED before it became REDACTED. His "good humor and fatherly advice" has often made agents question his true nature. And security monitors him as agents often confide secrets with him.

(ooc note, it was about an hour after drawing this that I realized I basically just drew Clint McElroy)

9: Frm: Dir Fairbanks The girl in our care is not to be referred to as "anomaly" or "spider thing" or by her case number. She has come to us willingly. Her name is Penelope, and but for her anomalous mutations is a normal child. We will provide her normalcy. That is an order.

#magical girl scp #psu scp #oc #oc characters #character deisgn #scp #horror #scp oc

[quipsnquivers]

Clint did you know girls find tatts sexy?

#is this Clint of the tattoo on his back? we may never know

[differenthead]

Volume 207

Listen to Different Head, Vol. 207: "Break Through the Rock" (May 7, 2022) byDifferent Head on hearthis.at

Download

0:00:00 — "Billy with a Clear Head" (Live) by The Kempsters (1982)

0:03:05 — "Demon" by Attak (1983)

0:07:14 — "Head on a Plate" (Edit) by Freight Train (1985)

0:09:23 — DJ

0:12:53 — "Expect a Miracle" by Something Pretty Beautiful (1989)

0:16:04 — "Benefit of the Doubt" by The Crystal Set (1987)

0:20:39 — "101 Dam-Nations" by Scarlet Party (1982)

0:23:59 — "Too Late at 20" by The Act (1981)

0:27:51 — "He Called Me a Fat Pig (And Walked Out on Me)" by The Renees (1990)

0:32:42 — DJ

0:37:15 — "Indoctrination" by Household Name (1981)

0:42:42 — "Inadequate" by Janet Armstrong (1981)

0:46:06 — "The Follower" by PragVEC (1979)

0:49:46 — "Present" by Hetch Hetchy (1988)

0:54:15 — DJ

0:58:08 — "Break Through the Rock" (Extended Version) by Sally Oldfield (1990)

1:03:56 — "See the Trees! Smell the Blossom!" by Terry Oldfield (1991)

1:08:52 — "Home" (Instrumental) by Planet Ha Ha (1982)

1:13:08 — "The Next Question" (Demo) by Urban Verbs (1979)

1:18:35 — "Field of Gold" by Roger Eno (1988)

1:22:17 — DJ

1:28:21 — "Red Pictures" by Tattoo Hosts Vision On! (1980)

#clint howard #the kempsters #attak #freight train #something pretty beautiful #the crystal set #scarlet party #the act #the renees #household name #janet armstrong #pragvec #hetch hetchy #sally oldfield #terry oldfield #urban verbs #roger eno #tattoo hosts vision on

[ageofevermore]

ITS BRIGHTER NOW

SUMMARY — until you met your girls, you once believed love would be burning red, but it turns out, it’s everything in between, and that couldn’t be more golden. i wanna be defined by the things that i love, not the things i hate, not the things that i’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night, i just think that you are what you love

PROMPTS — “sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you” & “will you stay with me?”

WARNINGS — mentions of battle, injury, anxiety, overall just fluff and comfort for arguably the best avengers and their girlfriend

Like every relationship, yours has its ups and downs. Although most times, you’re met with nothing but outstanding partners who try their absolute hardest to maintain open communication and boundaries, they’re still human, and Avengers, and while some consider that a fairytale circumstance, not many stop to think about how challenging it can be at its worst moments. Not many people, or any at all who aren’t in the lifestyle or one similar, think about how they’re gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks or months if it’s an undercover mission, and how when they finally do get back, they’re never the same as how they left. But honestly, how could they be? They’ve done things no average citizen would ever be expected to do, seen things and handled situations that are dangerous and traumatizing, and just like anyone else, those things haunt them. Wanda is better about unpacking those skeletons in her closet then Natasha is, but the both of them take things personally, and if things go south, it’s never good.

Both of your girlfriends had been gone from the compound for days. They’d been called out to an active Hydra base in Russia, and three days later, things had gone south and they’d been in active combat since. You didn’t talk to them much, with battles and timezones and everything else that got in your way, but you had heard through the grapevine that Wanda was pretty banged up and Natasha had been left with no choice but to shoot to kill after a particularly gruesome fight. Hearing that never got any easier, especially when they were halfway across the world and had no idea when they’d return. It was missions like these that made you yearn for a simpler life. One where Wanda was an artist, Natasha probably took up something flexible like tattooing, and you did literally anything else to just have some peace and quiet and promised safety.

You had met Natasha first, after Maria recruited you to join Shield. She had been skeptical of you, as she was of everyone, but you broke down her walls as easily as you’d picked the lock to Clint’s farm the one time you were placed on a strike mission together. She had been hurt pretty badly, and his farm was the closest place to land. That had been an interesting day, no thanks to your girlfriend who was draped across your arm with a shallow bullet wound and a startled Laura who was screeching about blood on her new couch. Things with Clint were still chaotic as ever, but he eventually got over you busting his brand new lock, and the two of you joked about it now, although now you had a key so no locks had to be busted in the event of an unplanned visit happening again. When you met Wanda, she fell into your dynamic easily, and at first, neither you nor Natasha had realized that you’d kind of adopted her as a third girlfriend until a drunken night when she ended up in your bed and never left. Now, sleeping without them is hard, but you’re forced to manage as best as you can, seeing as you don't really have much of a choice.

It was going onto the sixth night without them home when you finally retired from the couch, and decided to head to bed, figuring that at two in the morning there was no chance of them coming back until the next morning at the earliest. It was hard enough when one of them was on an active mission with no return date, but when both of them were gone, it truly felt like your heart was missing from your chest and you were just going through the motions and holding your breath until they got back. Most people only had one person to worry about, but having two people to lose, with jobs in this line of work, you felt like you were always looking over your shoulder and expecting the worst. As often as they could, your girlfriends declined missions together, even though they felt comfortable on the battlefield together and it was a comfort to not be alone, but neither one of them wanted to risk not coming home to you. They didn’t have a choice this time, so reluctantly they packed up their duffles and headed for the quinjet, with a kiss on your head and a promise that they would fight to come home to you, that they would try to make it back. There were still two mugs of tea on the countertop in the mini kitchen, and although it was disgusting and the tea had gone bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to clean them up. If that was the last thing they ever touched with you, when they were just Wanda and Natasha and not Avengers, you wanted the picture of mismatched mugs burned into your eyelids for the rest of your life. They deserved to be remembered as real, genuine, soft and stubborn, sometimes infuriating but lovable and loved people, not just heroes who had a cause when things went south.

You tossed and turned for probably an hour, groaning in annoyance for how empty your bed felt without them. How had you gotten so attached? That was the one thing you’d tried your hardest not to do when you got into this, and yet here you are, in Natasha’s t-shirt and Wanda’s panties, unable to sleep because the bed feels too cold and the walls feel too big and the room feels too empty and your heart feels misplaced. You’d heard somebody say love is golden once, not burning red, and you’d never understood that until a moment like this a few years ago, when Natasha left for the first time and you were utterly alone in the tower. They were golden, they were light, they were pouring rain in the middle of the day with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight, and they are the best moments of your life that you wish you could frame in a moving picture, because no, a picture can’t say a million words when it’s them. You need every word in the dictionary and then some. You will never be able to elaborate on how much you love them without falling short, and feeling like there's still so much you could’ve said. Everything felt so gray without them. It had to be after three in the morning when you finally fell asleep, probably closer to four, but you didn’t think about how long you’d been waiting up for them, just flopped onto your back and sprawled out like a starfish, and let sleep take over so you could have a few hours without consciously missing them. Missing them was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You’re pulled from your sleep by hushed voices and a door closing, convinced that the hinges are louder at inappropriate times just to spite you. You try to ignore it at first, finally in a comfortable position and getting some rest after a long day of running trials with Cho, but the noises persist despite your displeasure. A sound between a groan and a whine is extracted from your chest when something bumps into the bed, and any thought of going back to sleep leaves your mind. Unlike your girlfriends who can sleep through a natural disaster and fall asleep again if god forbid it wakes them up, once your eyes open you’re awake for the day, and it seems like this is where your day starts.

Although with blurred vision from the very few hours of sleep in your eyes, you’re able make out Wanda hunched over the bed, grasping at her side that is noticeably bloody, while Natasha is digging through the drawers to your left probably attempting to find a loose fitting top for Wanda to change into. All exhaustion leaves your body at the sight of them, and you spring up, rubbing your eyes with a wince as they burn in disagreement with your current state of consciousness. Wanda’s head snaps up, on high alert, but she forces her shoulders to relax when she realizes that it’s just you and not a threat.

“Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you.” She apologizes weakly, through clenched teeth and apparent sleepiness. You wonder when the last time they got a decent amount of rest, when they weren’t looking over their shoulders in paranoia or tossing and turning in pain from an injury that couldn’t be properly treated, but you force yourself to not dwell on it too much. You can’t change the past, and neither can they, all that matters is how they recover, and how they need you to help them heal from everything they were exposed to while in Russia. You’re the clean up, another factor that nobody considers while talking about how romantic and protected you must feel having two superheroes as partners. If anything, you feel more exposed. Like all eyes are on you and a monster is always lurking in the room over.

“No, no that’s okay. I only went to sleep a few hours ago, anyway. Here.” You know that the shirt Natasha is probably looking for is the one currently on your body, and you offer it to Wanda with no hesitation, already making a b-line for her when she just barely has the strength to reach for it herself. You pull the bloodied top over her head gently, thankful that the blood it’s soaked with is dry, and her wound is covered in gauze, meaning they’d probably stopped by the medbay before they made their way in here. “A little banged up, aren’t you?” You comment, although it's rhetorical and you know she won’t tell you how it happened just yet. That usually comes a few days after the mission, when the trauma isn’t so fresh and they’re not still on edge that something else is coming for them. You help her out of her pants as well, thanking Natasha when she hands you a fresh pair of undergarments to pull up Wanda’s legs before you even have to ask.

“We’re still in one piece.” Natasha promises, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s tense all over, but she does her best to relax as she holds you, grounding herself in the moment and not the nightmares that have been going around in circles in her mind since getting on the quinjet to come home. “We missed you.” She kisses the skin beneath your ear, lingering for a few seconds before she untangles herself completely and gets ready for bed herself.

“That’s all that matters.” You reassure her, pecking Wanda’s lips gently, knowing she doesn’t have the energy or the strength to match any moment of passion right now. It’s not something that bothers you, maybe it used to, just the slightest bit, but it’s a routine you’re used to now. “I missed you too.”

“I told Steve we’re not taking any missions for a while. Especially not together.” Natasha hands you another one of her tops to slip into, and watches you throw Wanda’s bloodied one into the garbage beside your vanity. She won’t wear it again, not when it’s got so much history now, even if you could get the blood stain out. Again, it’s a routine you’ve found comfort in. The clothes they return home in almost always end up in the garbage, no time for working through PTSD that’s stitched into the fabric when you can just get something new to start fresh in.

“That’s good. I heard from Maria how tough this one was. I don’t know if I slept much the first few days.” You hate to worry them, or make them feel bad, but they hate when you’re not honest with them, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them being sent out on missions, so it’s not like you’re haroboring negative feelings toward them directly, which they understand, but your girlfriends do a great job of beating themselves up about certain things out of their control, this being one of them.

“Or at all. We still have cameras, you know.” Natasha muses, thoroughly amused when you turn a deep shade of crimson and kick Wanda’s discarded pants up toward her. Your other girlfriend, who has been noticeably quiet through the entire exchange, is curled up in bed, looking unbothered by the conversation but intent on finally getting some sleep in her own bed without the possibility of being blown to bits by the enemy.

“Spying on me, are you Romanoff?” You tease, shutting all the drawers Natasha left open and picking up all of her discarded clothes to throw them in the bin as well. She thanks you silently with her eyes that are practically bleeding with pain and adoration, but you don’t say anything. This is the least you can do for them right now.

“Gotta keep an eye on my girl.” Although it’s an easy statement, you know that it’s riddled with nothing but genuine anxiety. Both of your girlfriends are worrywarts when it comes to leaving you alone, for any amount of time but especially undetermined chunks like this mission, and although its heartwarming to be so cared for, it breaks your heart to know that they have valid reasons to be afraid. Another thing nobody even considers when they make comments toward your relationship. Wanda makes a huffing sound beside Natasha and both of your lips twitch in amusement, “On one of my girls, sorry, malysh.”

“You both should get some rest.” You comment, seeing that almost an hour has passed since they stumbled in. You won’t be able to fall asleep again, and even if you could, you’re apprehensive to crawl into bed with Wanda and accidentally hurt her more, so you have all intentions of wishing them a goodnight and going to finally clean up the mugs of tea that are resting on the counter.

“Where are you going?” Natasha wonders, watching you closely, like she’s scared that you’re going to fall apart right in front of her. You hate these moments, when they’re first getting back and they still feel like they’re stranded in a battlefield. It takes days to get back to some kind of normalcy without walking on eggshells, and by that time, they’re usually cleared to start training again and working their strength up for the next mission. One day, you just want to be done, but they’re not ready yet and that's okay.

“To clean up the tea mugs you left before you went. I didn’t have the heart to clean them up, in case…” You train off, but Natasha knows what you’re going to say and her face sinks even deeper.

“In case we didn’t come back.” She finishes your thought, hand rubbing Wanda’s back now that the woman is on her belly, seeking pressure against her wound that’s probably aching beneath the gauze. She shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, but you’re not about to scold her right now. She needs to be comfortable, any torn stitches can easily be mended tomorrow morning when she’s well rested.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, releasing the tension that gathered in your shoulders at the simple thought of losing them. They’re okay this time, you can let go of all that pent up anxiety and dread for the time being. But it crosses your mind that there's always next time, and they might not get so lucky.

“Will you stay with me? Please?” Wanda asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is pressed into, her arms beneath her head as she gives Natasha full access to her back, and the aching muscles that have probably been pulled a couple thousand times since leaving. Natasha works harder at releasing some of that tension, looking at you with broken eyes that you can’t say no too. Your worries are squandered when Wanda speaks again, lifting her head just enough to be able to see your face, peering into your eyes with a passion and seriousness that burns you inside. “You won’t hurt me, stop thinking that. I just want to hold my girl.”

“Ahem.” Natasha clears her throat, and Wanda lets the slightest smile pull her tired lips upward.

“One of my girls, sorry, detka.” She apologies before dropping her face back into the pillow, tightening her grip on it when Natasha hits a sore spot in her back. The redhead keeps at it, knowing how easily the Sokovian can pull her muscles when she’s lifting heavy things with just her tendrils.

“Are my thoughts that loud?” You ask meekly, abandoning your intention of straightening up the kitchen and instead coming closer to the end bed, still without pants and just Natasha’s shirt that hangs to your mid thigh.

Natasha stops rubbing Wanda’s back in order to grab at your thighs and pull you closer, rubbing the skin of your legs the same way she had been rubbing Wanda’s back. Though she’ll never admit it, you and Wanda have a sneaking suspicion her love language is physical touch, and that just maybe, physically feeling you both silences her anxieties over you just disappearing from her. Whatever her reason, neither of you protest, and admittedly crave her touch by the end of the night when you crawl into bed.

“Mhmm, I promise I’m okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore, s’just sore.” She promised, sounding half asleep the longer she lays, adjusting her head so her neck is turned toward both you and Natasha, but her eyes are closed, a content smirk on her lips that only grows bigger when she hears you sigh your agreeance and then feels the bed dip with your weight as you climb into bed.

“Lay your ass down, or I’m gonna fall asleep sitting up.” Natasha scolds, playfully slapping your ass as you crawl over her and into the center of the bed, which is no longer warm from your body. You settle in between them, humming contently when Wanda loops an arm around your waist and then Natasha pulled you into her chest, your legs intertangling messily beneath the sheets.

“I missed this. I can’t sleep when you’re gone, everything feels so empty.” You admit, letting your eyes close even if you’re going to have a few hours of painful silence and stillness before you can even consider actually falling asleep.

Natasha presses her lips into your head and Wanda tightens her arm around your middle, neither saying anything, but not having to as their words and their presence says it all. Surprisingly, you fall asleep in minutes, and not a single one of you wakes up for the next ten hours, desperately needing the rest all together again.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat fluff #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #wanda maximoff hurt/comfort #wandanat hurt/comfort #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff oneshot #wanda maximoff oneshot #wandanat oneshot

[imtryingbuck]

Eighteen part two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 2,240

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

A/N pt 2: when I saw the duck tattoo I screamed, no joke I screamed! Make sure you have a look it’s so bloody cute!

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

They spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning apologising, promising to make up for their mistakes. All three guys crying when she told them how much they had broken her heart, the guilt still there front row and centre but she promised them that it was all forgiven.

Steve and Sam had begged for forgiveness for not being there for her but she reassured them that all was forgiven, that it was time to move on.

Even though all three of them had hurt her and they hadn’t done anything to help her when she needed at least one of them the most, she had forgiven them. She missed them more than anything, they were the other part of her fractured soul.

She didn’t want to hold any grudges against them.

For a whole month Y/n caught up with her boys, caused mayhem just as they did a few years ago.

It was as if nothing had changed.

They didn’t understand what was happening when they showed up to Howard’s and Maria’s house to take Y/n out for the day when she opened the door where they could see two suitcases by her side.

“Bun? You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah only for two months, going to travel with Nat and Wanda. Isn’t that so exciting?” She smiles.

“Yeah, yeah how come you didn’t tell us?”

“I was a bit busy catching up with you guys…”

“Is it going to be just you three?”

“No Pietro, Clint and Vis are coming too”

“Who’s Clint and Vis?”

“Clint’s Natasha’s boyfriend and Vis is Wanda’s”

“Will you be coming back?” Steve asked.

“Yeah of course, then I’ll start my new job. I can’t wait”

“What job?”

“You know Mr Stan? Well he’s given me a job as his accountant”

“I’m so proud of you Bun”

“Thanks Duck-“

“Y/n come on love we’ve got to go” Maria interrupts as she checks over the plane ticket and double checking that Y/n had enough money.

“Okay momma, give me a hug then boys”

For the two next two months Bucky was out of his mind. He wouldn’t sit still for long periods at a time. He had gotten a taste of the happiness he had for years, went without for three years and then he got it back just for it to leave with Y/n once again.

“Buck she’ll be home in a few days”

“It’s been too long man”

“Are you going to tell her?” Sam asks.

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re madly, hopelessly in love with her?” 

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah right and I’m Captain America” Steve snorted from the kitchen.

“I’m not in love with Bunny. And plus she’s got a boyfriend and I’m seeing…shit what’s her name?”

Sam burst out laughing, nearly sliding off the chair and Steve shook his head “Lily, Bucky her names Lily”

“Yeah I’m seeing Lily”

“How’s that going Buck?” Sam says as he calms down.

“Great, it’s going great”

“Bullshit she told Sarah that when you two fucked you kept calling her Y/n.”

“No he didn’t!” Steve gasped. Between me and you he already knew.

“Yeah and it’s pretty much the same with every girl he’s slept with, he calls them Y/n’s name” okay Steve hadn’t heard that before.

“Fuck off man, it’s not been with all of them” Bucky weakly tries to defend himself, again just between me and you what he just said was a big fat lie.

“L to the I to the A right down to the R, guess what that spells Buck… liar.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh and plus you have a bunny tattoo on your chest” It was true. On Bucky’s eighteenth birthday he went to the tattoo studio to get his first ever tattoo, he saw it in the book as he flipped through it halting his movements as he saw the cute bunny. It was a lot smaller but he asked the tattooist if he could have it bigger which the guy said yeah, Bucky had him also add the small love heart.

Over the year he got a few more added to his body but his bunny that sat just over his heart was his favourite of them all.

“Don’t mean I’m in love with her”

“Yes. Yes it does.”

“No. No it doesn’t.”

“Steve help me out here man” Sam begs.

“I’m not getting involved. But Bucky your in love with Y/n/n”

Groaning Bucky stands up “fuck you both I’m going out to see Lucy”

“Lily!”

“Yeah her, bye”

“I’m sorry Y/n” Pietro says wiping her tears.

“No it’s okay, I understand honestly”

“I just don’t want to hurt you baby”

“I know Pieface just don’t die please and please be safe”

Laughing sadly at the nickname she had given him he nods with a promise that he’ll be safe.

“I do love you Y/n/n”

“I love you too Pietro”

Giving one final long hug they separate from one another, she watches as he walks through the doors to the airport wiping her fallen tears she smiles and waves at him as he looks back at her, giggles fall from her lips as he pulls a funny face to her.

“Won’t you be able to see him in a few months?” Wanda asks softly.

Shaking her head Y/n shrugs “h-he broke up with me”

“You what?”

“Yeah, he said he doesn’t want to hold me back and wants me to live my life whilst he’s away”

Pietro had told her a few weeks before coming back home that he signed up for the Army and had been accepted. Though he did love her he didn’t want her staying at home worrying about him, he wanted her to experience life and who knows when he got back they could rekindle their relationship, though Pietro knew it was unlikely. He knew that Y/n loved him but he also knew that she was in love with Bucky, and for him there was no way he was going to get in the way of her happiness even if that wasn’t with him and to be truthful he was okay with it.

“Y/n/n I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, it’s fine honestly. Let’s go home I’m missing my bed.”

“I still can’t believe you’re not coming to college with us” Nat says as she pulls on her seatbelt yanking it a little to hard when it gets stuck.

“I know but it’s just not for me you know”

“It’s not going to be the same” Wanda says.

“I guess but you two can’t get another me to add in to your friendship group or I’ll cry”

“Definitely not happening, if another female tries to be our friend we’ll kick them” Nat says seriously.

“Don’t kick them Jesus that’s a bit harsh, just say “no you can’t be our friend because we already have the bestest one” but please don’t kick them”

“I’m kicking them”

Saying her goodbyes as she’s dropped off at home her eyes start to sting with the amount of tears she’s cried. They all promise that they’ll meet up as soon as they can.

As she tells her parents of her adventures and shows them all the photos she had taken, she hands them their gifts.

“You didn’t have to get us anything angel” Howard says loving the pyramid paperweight she had gotten him.

“Alright I’ll take them back”

“Touch it and I’ll bite you”

Gasping she looks at her mom “momma did you just hear what he said?”

“I did sweetie but I have to agree your not taking these back” admiring the snow globe she had gotten, already knowing exactly where it was going, adding it to the collection she had been collecting since she was twenty.

“Where’s Antonio?”

“I’ve told you time and time again not to call me that, hey baby sis” hugging his sister he checks the bag for his gift.

“It’s not in there Tone, it’s outside”

“What have you gotten me?”

“A car”

“Holy shit! Really? I knew there was a reason why I kept you around”

“Yep come on” Her, Tony, Howard and Maria make their way outside.

“Whe-what the hell is this Y/n?”

“A car” she laughs along with her parents as Tony picks up a toy car off the ground. “I brought you a car”

“You’re such a little shit!” He laughs along. “Oh nice new tat”

“Cheers”

“You got another one?” Maria asks wanting to see it.

“Yeah it’s a turtle his names Sid, isn’t he cute?”

“Sid?” Howard questions.

“Yeah, we went to a sea life centre and we got to meet Sid the turtle, so naturally I had to add him to the collection”

“Obviously” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Anyway I’m going to go to the boy’s apartment and give them their gifts see you later”

“Be careful!” Maria calls out.

Panting as she knocks on the door she nearly collapses into Sam’s arms when he opens the door.

“Jesus Y/n, Holy shit guys Y/n’s back!”

“I can taste blood in my mouth is-is that normal?” She asks.

“Are you alright?”

“No Samuel I’m not alright I’ve just walked up a trillion stairs just to get here! Why do you have to live so far up?”

“It’s easier when the elevator works” he grins.

“Hey Y/n/n” Steve says hugging her.

“Hi Stevie”

The three of them hear hurried footsteps coming towards them and when they look they see Bucky rushing down the hallway “shit, Bunny you’re back! I nearly fell in the shower trying to rush to get out” he pants pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“I-I-I’m sorry but…Ducky…”

“What’s up Bun?” He follows her eye line and he’s realised his mistake. In his rush he managed to pull on some shorts but no shirt.

Meaning that she can see the bunny tattoo.

And unbeknownst to either one, they don’t realise that Sam and Steve have their eyes trained on the tattoo she has on the top of her spine.

“That’s a bunny” she points of the obvious.

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Why?”

“For you”

“When did you get it done?”

“On my eighteenth birthday”

“And it’s for me?” Watching as he nods “can I?” He nods again to the unspoken part of her question, his skin tingles as she reaches out and runs her fingers over the delicate lines.

“Oh Duck it’s beautiful”

“Your hiding your own little secret aren’t you Y/n” Sam smiles.

“What are they talking about Bun?”

“I-um-I got this done on my eighteenth birthday” she says turning in his hold to show him her tattoo.

“Bun, it’s us. Can I?” It’s her turn to nod at his unspoken words she gasps lightly when his cold fingers trace the lines, he’s so mesmerised by the details and polka dots that he simply couldn’t stop touching it. “Bun it’s so beautiful”

“It was my first tattoo, obviously”

“So was mine”

“I actually feel really left out” Sam admits wrapping his arms around Steve’s “Stevie they don’t love us”

“That’s not true because-“ she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and shows them the tattoos she had gotten for them ‘♡ S.R ♡ ♡ S.W ♡’ with a love heart on the top of her forearms. Not batting an eye at the scars the two boys lean in as Bucky leans over her shoulder.

“Who’s who?” Sam grins “but Y/n you actually got our initials tattooed on you?”

“Your obviously SR idiot and yeah of course I did, these were my second tattoos”

“B-but we weren’t friends at the time” Steve says as he eyes the long jagged scars.

“Well you three were a massive parts of my life and the reason why I got the duck and bunny on my back was because Bucky was the first person to see the scars once they where heeled and he never once judged me so”

“Y/n…”

“Anyways you want your presents, I’m like Santa but less cool” she moves out of Bucky’s hold and makes her way over to her bag and started to pull out the gifts, laughing as Sam stands there with his eyes closed and hands out stretched. Steve shakes his head at the guy.

Bucky, well his eyes are trained on his Bunny.

He knew he was in love with her since he was fourteen and now he wonders if she feels the same. 

“So how’s you and Peter doing?” Bucky asks as they wait for Steve and Sam to come back with the pizzas.

“Pietro, and he broke up with me”

“What? Why?”

“He joined the Army and he said he didn’t want me to be waiting around on him, that it wasn’t fair for him to do that to me so yeah”

“Bun I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, I actually understand why he did it you know? And there’s no hard feelings about it.”

When the boys got back laughter filled the apartment as the boys filled her in on what they had been up to during them two months she wasn’t with them and her telling them about her adventures.

It was way past midnight when Sam stretched and looked over at Y/n and Bucky curled up on the couch fast asleep.

“Steve, how long you think she’s been in love with him?” He whispered so he wouldn’t wake the pair up.

“I think just as long as he’s been with her”

And Steve was right.

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#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel fic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #Through The Years #bucky barnes angst #bucky series #bucky barnes fanfiction #james Barnes #james barnes x you #Bucky Barnes female reader #bucky barnes friends to lovers

[duckybarnes1917]

Forbidden Fruit (DBF! Bucky x F!Reader)

18+ ONLY.

Summary: Bucky knows he shouldn't want this, but he can't resist taking a bite.

Warnings: plot what plot? smut, age gap (undefined), unprotected sex, daddy kink, Bucky's dirty mouth. The only physical description is the reader having a small tattoo, if you don't have one, pretend it's fake.

Word count: 4900

A/N: NO ONE LOOK AT ME. I am that Paul Rudd meme. Who woulda thought?

Guilt. That’s what Bucky felt every time he looked at you. His neighbor’s daughter that he had only found out about two weeks ago. Everything had been going so well. His new house in the suburbs was shaping up nicely, thanks to Sam and Clint’s help. He had made the move to help himself find some inner peace. It was working; he slept better; he ate better, he even got a cat and started doing yoga every morning. He made friends with his neighbors. Ms. Rose was an elderly (though still technically younger than him) widow who lived across the street. She brought him muffins every Sunday morning. Mark and Angela lived to the left of him. They were newlyweds and spent most of their evenings in the backyard getting high and laughing at everything the other said. Bucky thought they were sweet. And to his right, that’s where your dad lived. A single man who appeared to be about the same age as Bucky. He did something in finance and had to take a train to the city every day. He was nice enough and since they were both alone in their big houses, they became friends. Shared beers and sports games, Bucky would come over to meet his work friends now and then. But all of this, all of Bucky’s hard work, washed down the drain the second he saw you running down his sidewalk.

He had just finished his morning yoga and was about to sit down for a nice muffin and some coffee when he heard a scream. He dashed to his front window and saw a big black dog charging down the sidewalk, it’s leash flopping along behind it. And then there was you, sweaty and bleeding, and chasing this beast like your life depended on it.

Bucky opened the door and called to the dog in German. It immediately stopped and dropped its head, slowly walking up Bucky’s driveway to sit at his feet.

“How—how did you do that?!” You huffed, your hand holding your side.

“This is Bert, he belongs to Greta a few houses down… he only understands German.”

You sent an annoyed glare toward Greta’s house. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I took him on a walk.”

Bucky chuckled, “dog sitter?”

“Not really. I’m just helping her out for a few weeks while I’m in town.”

Bucky deflated a bit. You were temporary. But even so, you were standing in his driveway with a nasty cut on your knee.

“I can fix that–if you want.”

You looked down as if you hadn’t realized you were bleeding and quickly nodded. “Please.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

When you introduced yourself as you walked past him into the house, your name tickled something in his brain. He wanted you.

“The bathroom is right around the corner.”

Bucky followed, keeping his distance, as not to breathe down your neck. And also to check you out. It had been a while–he had needs. That’s what he told himself as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the backs of your thighs.

You walked into the small bathroom and turned to him. The sudden hesitancy on your face made him take a step back.

“You can just show me where your first aid kit is…”

Bucky nodded and stepped into the bathroom with you; you stumbled back a bit when he knelt in front of the cabinet. “Here you go. Are you sure you don’t need a helping hand?”

Bucky remained on his knees, offering the first aid kit to you. But you didn’t take it. You stared into his impossibly blue eyes and squeaked out an intelligible answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” Bucky stood up to his full height and enjoyed the way your head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him.

“Help. Please.”

Bucky smiled and patted the counter. You understood and jumped up onto it.

“Let’s see here…” Bucky cradled your calf as he lifted your leg. He rested your foot on his thigh as he got to work on your bloodied knee.

It was just a scrape, but he took his time, enjoying the way the bend of your knee offered him a lovely view. He was so lost in looking at your legs in your short shorts he didn’t notice the way your demeanor had changed.

The look of desperation in his eyes bolstered your confidence. Yes, you had been nervous. He was hot, incredibly hot. And intense. His presence had overwhelmed you, made you so desperate for him you couldn’t think straight. But now–as you watched him unabashedly stare at the bit of white lace you knew he could see up your shorts–you knew you could take him.

As he reluctantly moved on to the scrape on your elbow, you admired his weathered face. He was talking about something, but you weren’t paying attention. You noticed the cute crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, though. The salt and pepper beard, the smoothness of his pink lips, and he smelled good too. Like sandalwood and something spicy. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple as he spoke, the little freckles on his neck that you wanted to bite, and lower, the muscles under his shirt… and it was only then that you noticed his arm.

“Holy shit… you’re… you’re Bucky, Bucky?!” 

Bucky straightened up, looking a little worried. “Is that a problem?”

“No! I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize you until now. Fuck, you’re even hotter in person.”

Bucky’s smirk made your cheeks blaze. You hadn’t intended for that thought to come out of your mouth. But he was moving to stand between your legs, his lips inching nearer, so you weren’t about to beat yourself up over it.

“So you’re saying you weren’t driving me crazy because you knew who I was? Just because you think I’m hot?”

“Driving you crazy?” You whispered, trying your best to remain still while his nose grazed over your cheek on its path to your ear.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart.” His voice was gravel in your ear, a chill shooting down your spine. “Besides, I can smell you.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed out and his lips instantly attached to your pulse point.

“With pleasure, kitten.”

“That was–” you were trying to explain to him you hadn’t meant it literally, but his tongue was very distracting, as were his hands, which were sliding up your little shorts to grasp your ass. “Oh god, I don’t even know you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and you brought his lips to yours.

Just as a pathetic moan was leaving your throat, your ringtone blared through the bathroom, making you both jump.

“Sorry, sorry, just let me turn it off.” You scrambled for your phone, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

“Got it, sweetheart.” Bucky bent down to pick up your phone and froze when he saw the picture on the screen.

It was a photo of you and his friend, his neighbor… and the name on the phone said ‘dad.’

“This–he’s your–fuck.” Bucky handed you the phone and stalked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over Bert, who had fallen asleep outside the door.

“Wait! I’m not answering it. Where are you going?!”

You scrambled after Bucky, trying to keep up with his long strides and not get distracted by the way his ass looked in his gray joggers.

“You gotta go,” Bucky said emotionlessly as he opened the front door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Fuck, how old are you?”

Your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “Old enough to fuck a stranger in their bathroom. What the fuck, Bucky?”

“I’m friends with your dad, okay? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, before shrugging and walking past him. “Your loss, Buck. Come on, Bert, let’s go. I have some energy to work off now.”

As you and Bert walked down the sidewalk toward the park, you felt Bucky’s eyes glued to you the entire way.

The guilt only lasted so long. The universe forbid you from him. Made you off limits. So fucking young. He should have never touched you. Not because it was wrong, but because now the feel of you had burned into his memory. It came to him every goddamn night when he tried to sleep. And every goddamn morning when he inevitably woke up hard from his increasingly filthy dreams.

Avoiding you proved to be impossible. As hard as Bucky tried, you were always just there. He tried to relax in his backyard and there you were, swimming lazily in your dad’s pool. When he tried to go to the park, you were laying in the sun or running laps. The day he was across the street, helping Ms. Rose in her garden, was when he realized you were fucking with him.

He was minding his own business, having a lovely conversation with his elderly neighbor, when suddenly you appeared in your dad’s driveway. A little white bikini top and cutoff denim shorts were the only thing you wore. Bucky swallowed hard. The beads of sweat running down his neck were no longer just from the scorching sun. He thought maybe you were going to lie out. But no, it was worse. So much worse. You walked to the side of the house and bent over as you turned on the water house.

“No,” Bucky whispered to himself, his eyes wide as he watched you spray the hood of your little sports car.

Ms. Rose was oblivious, talking even though Bucky was clearly not paying attention anymore. His eyes watched every move you made. He swore he was dreaming. There was no way you just squeezed your sponge over yourself, but you must have, because Bucky was watching the soapy water seep through your now sheer top, and trail down your legs. When you bent over on your tiptoes to cleanse the back window of your car, he knew he hadn’t imagined the flirty looks you had been giving him throughout the week. You still wanted him. And goddamn, he wanted you more than anything. Just as his cock was urging him to get up and go do something about the way you were displaying yourself for him, your dad pulled up in the driveway.

“Fucking shit,” Bucky muttered, spinning away from you and focusing on the garden he was supposed to be attending to.

What worried him now was the complete absence of guilt he felt. He should be ashamed. Horrified at his behavior and thoughts. But the more he tried to tell himself that you were forbidden fruit, the more he wanted to take a damn bite.

**

He stayed confined to his house for the next two days. Curtains shut to avoid the temptation of peeking into your backyard. Your dad–his friend, kept texting, asking him to hangout and Bucky felt horrible ignoring the messages. But he couldn’t do it, not until you were gone. He thought about going to visit Sam and Clint in the city for the next week, just until you went back to wherever you had come from. But that would be too pathetic. He just needed a distraction, something to help him stop thinking about your ass in those little shorts, the water dripping between your breasts…

Bucky’s ringtone brought him back to the present, and he yanked his hand out of his shorts, cursing himself for losing control yet again. It was your dad. He sighed, pulling his large hand down his face as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Buck! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

“Yeah, sorry, been busy.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

Bucky was silent, trying to remember what he could be referencing.

“The game is tonight; my daughter went out with some friends, so I invited the usual gang over. Thought you’d bring that beer we all like.”

Bucky’s heart sank a little at the news that you wouldn’t be there, but maybe that was a good thing. “Sure, sure, I’ll come over soon.”

Bucky hung up the phone and looked down at his lap… first a cold shower, then the party.

**

The night air was crisp, and cool as you wandered through your large backyard. You were still a little tipsy from the night out with your friends, but your vision was clear enough to spot Bucky leaning against the fence talking to some of your dad’s friends. He was a vision in his French blue t-shirt and pants; his beard was scruffy with spots of gray, his hair fluffy and just untamed enough to make you imagine your fingers in it. When he laughed, his nose scrunched, and his head tossed back just a little. Was he a god? Apollo himself, here to bring you the sun? You didn’t even realize your feet were carrying you in his direction until he caught your eye. The look of panic on his face made you stop where you were, a few feet away. He mumbled excuses and avoided your eye as he made a quick exit, heading for the gate on the side of the house.

Determined to get what you knew you both wanted, you took a deep breath for courage and chased after him, glad everyone appeared too drunk to pay attention to you.

Once in the dark shadows and hidden on the side of the house, you called his name. He froze, his hand on the gate, likely debating if he would run or answer your call.

“You’re being very rude, you know.”

He still didn’t move.

“Can I at least thank you for your help the other day?”

His shoulders tensed. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am.”

Bucky turned around then, inhaling sharply as his eyes roved over you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, but I have so many ways I could say thank you.”

He took a step closer, and you pressed your back against the brick of the house. Heat prickled over your skin as he advanced on you, nearly touching you now.

“Don’t you wanna hear your options?” You whispered, eyes flicking between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes.

“We can’t,” Bucky swallowed.

“But I’ll be real good for you, I promise. Let you do whatever you want.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, inching even closer, his thigh slotting between your legs.

“Touch me,” you whispered, afraid you’d scare him away.

His fingers trailed up your thigh so lightly you barely felt them. Bucky stopped at the hem of your dress and you were about to complain when he pressed his hips against you, his prominent erection digging into your hip.

“Oh god, I wanna suck your cock so bad, daddy. Please, please let me.”

Bucky closed his eyes, just barely rutting against you. The veins in his neck were strained as he tried to remain in control.

“God dammit, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” Your hands skimmed up his broad chest and over his shoulders. “I think it turns you on.”

Bucky shook his head, and you pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “I think your cock gets hard every time you think about how you’re not supposed to fuck me.”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bucky breathed against your neck, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You’re all I think about. I want to ruin you, claim every piece of you with my fingers, and my tongue, god I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Please, daddy.”

His cock throbbed against you. “Stop, you gotta stop calling me that, kitten.” Bucky pushed away from you, still caging you in against the brick. “I’m serious. We can’t do this. I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

You weren’t listening, and Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body to where your hand had slipped under your dress. Before he could say anything, you held two glistening fingers in his face, taunting.

“Just a taste.” You gently swiped your fingers over his plush bottom lip and his eyes went so dark you were almost afraid.

And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly that he was a blur in the night.

**

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He literally held his breath for as long as he could to avoid inhaling your sweet scent. He nearly broke his backdoor down trying to hurry and get inside.

“Fuck!” He shouted as finally got the door to open and he stumbled inside, drunk with lust.

His cock was so hard, he was already unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down as he hurried through his kitchen. He just had to make it upstairs, but the temptation on his lips was too much, his clothes were suffocating, he need to fucking come. He braced himself on the wall by the stairs, his right hand quickly pulling his heavy cock out and pumping it with speed and efficiency. He was already so close; it was not a time for teasing. He got off on the smell of you on his lips, the feel of you pressed against him earlier that night, the dirty things you had promised–god he was an idiot, he could have you on your knees right now. He could hardly remember the last time he had a hot little mouth wrapped around him.

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for a tissue as his balls tightened and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, coming hard as the taste of you exploded in his mouth.

**

Bucky had reached his limit. He was done. Today was the day he was going to ruin you. He decided this as he watched you over his fence. You were lounging by your pool, completely nude, and posed to tease the fuck out of him. One leg was bent at the knee, blocking his view of your cunt. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, only to be disappointed that your book was blocking his view of your tits. But he zeroed in on the bit of side boob he could see, licking his lips as he imagined kissing the little heart tattoo he didn’t know you had there.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your gaze to smile at him.

“Oh hello, looking for my dad?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Over here. Now.”

You froze, and Bucky wondered if you really thought he could resist you forever.

“Now, kitten.”

You nodded, turning to grab your sundress before quickly making your way to his side of the fence.

“You didn’t need to bother with the dress.” Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

His tongue invaded your mouth aggressively, making up for lost time. You gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, his frustrations spilling out. He pulled back enough to look you in the eye, both of your breaths ragged.

You opened your mouth, probably to say something cocky. But Bucky silenced you by pushing softly but firmly on your shoulders. You dropped to your knees so fast that Bucky chuckled.

“Eager?”

You already had his fly open, your tongue pressed against the wet spot his cock had made in his underwear, and he shuddered.

“And you aren’t?”

“No teasing.”

You answered by pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was thick and curved, his pink tip begging to be sucked.

“Holy–fuck,” Bucky dragged out the last word, reaching for the fence for support as you took him into your throat.

It had been so long since he had experienced this. While he longed for your pussy, this was different… looking down at you on your knees for him–lips wrapped tight and your tongue moving so perfectly–he wouldn’t last.

He should have taken you inside. Now he had to be quiet, had to contain the moans and gasps he wanted to let out every time you took him deeper.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your nose pressed against his pelvis. “Wanna fuck your face, sweetheart.”

You moaned, and his dick throbbed in tune with his rapid heartbeat. But as he wrapped his vibranium hand in your hair, prepping himself to come down your throat, your backdoor opened and shut loudly.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed as your dad stepped out onto the patio and waved at him. He nudged your shoulder, and you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth.

Bucky gave you a warning look as your dad approached the fence.

He should have known better. As soon as he started talking to your dad, trying to get rid of him, your hot mouth slid down his cock again, slowly, but it still made him stutter. You froze once your nose was pressed against him again, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, until you swallowed and he nearly groaned out loud. Somehow your dad was still clueless, rambling on about-well, Bucky didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. He bit his lip hard as your tongue lapped at his balls, the tip of his cock still in your throat. A curse slipped through his lips. He was sure he looked like he was in pain–he was about to come and you wouldn’t stop–he didn’t want you to stop.

Your dad frowned. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, annoyed now that you had completely pulled back, licking his tip teasingly. “Just playing with my kitten. She’s being a bad girl.”

Bucky smirked as you clenched your thighs together.

“But I think she just needs attention. I’ll see you later.”

With that, your dad finally left and as soon as he was safely inside your house, Bucky tucked himself back into his pants and squatted down to look you in the eye.

“What happened to being a good girl for daddy, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it.”

Bucky kissed you fiercely, before bringing you to your feet. “Inside.”

You didn’t hesitate, running to his backdoor as he slowly stalked behind you.

**

Bucky’s tongue held power. You were sure of it. It tortured, teased, and pleased all in one firm, wet swipe. And he did it for what seemed like hours. Not letting you go until you begged for a break. When he finally lifted his head from between your trembling thighs, you groaned at the sight. His handsome beard glistened with your arousal, and his blue eyes were dark with need. Your legs spread further for him and he smirked as he climbed over your body to reach your lips.

“Good girl; gonna take my cock, kitten?”

“Yes daddy, give it to me,” you nearly whined as you felt him press the tip against your entrance.

He was quiet as he slid in, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. You gripped them tight as he split you open slowly, every throbbing vein rubbing you in just the right way.

“Oh god, you’re so big,” you whimpered once he was fully inside you.

His breath was ragged against your neck, and even your feet pressing into his firm ass wasn’t enough to get him to move yet.

“Please,” you begged, and finally he pulled out. Bucky fucked slow but deep, making sure you felt everything he gave you. Every drag was heaven, every thrust euphoria. His vibranium hand was cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair, his other gripping your hip to keep you in place. You climbed quickly, but you needed more.

“Faster, please, I can take it.”

Bucky’s head dropped against yours for a second before he obliged. He moved his hand from your hair to the headboard, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts.

You could feel his control slipping, his thrusts felt more frantic, the muscles in his arms bulged, and his breaths grew even more ragged.

Yet you still needed more.

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, almost embarrassed to ask.

Bucky froze, and you feared maybe you had ruined the moment. But then he gave you that ridiculously hot, lopsided smirk and pressed his lips to your ear.

“You want me to tell you how good you feel?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he resumed his pace.

“Want to hear how badly I wanna ignore your pleasure and fuck you hard and fast?”

“Yes!” You groaned, lifting your hips to urge him to move faster.

 “Want me to tell you how I have to masturbate every fucking day thinking about your lips, your cunt, your ass?”

“You touch yourself, wishing your cock was up my ass?”

“Fuck yes.” Bucky sounded truly broken, and you lifted his head to see the desire in his eyes.

“Next time,” you managed to speak before his pace turned even more punishing.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me. Tell me what else you like, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come.”

“Suck my tits, daddy, I’m so close.”

“With pleasure,” Bucky immediately moved his lips to the little tattoo on the side of your breast. Swiping his tongue over it a few times while his big hands squeezed your tits. His pace slowed slightly as he lost himself in worshiping your breasts. His tongue teased until you were nearly frantic with desire. With one last slow lick over your nipple, his warm mouth wrapped around it. Your back arched, and you came almost instantly, drawing a deep groan from him as he continued to suck hungrily.

You knew he had to be close. He was putting off his own release to draw more and more from you.

“Wanna ride you, daddy.”

He didn’t argue, flipping the two of you over so you were on top of him, your hands planted on his muscular chest.

You didn’t think he could get any better, but this angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Yeah, there would definitely be a next time, and a time after that. As many times as he’d allow.

His fingers gripped your hips hard, and you fluttered around him at the thought of the bruises he would leave behind.

“I’m close,” Bucky said, almost reluctantly. “Gotta stop.”

“Can’t,” you said breathlessly, moving your hips faster.

He groaned, arguing with you even as his hand moved from your hip to your breast and his hips jerked off the bed.

“Come inside me, daddy, need it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky’s head dipped back. “You can’t–can’t say shit like that.”

“Why?” You questioned, leaning down to his ear. “Because you’re not supposed to be fucking me? Because you’re not supposed to want to fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky groaned, thrusting faster.

“Because you’re not supposed to have your fat cock balls deep in my little pussy?”

A strangled noise left Bucky’s throat, and he threw you onto your back. You were disappointed, expecting him to finish himself over your stomach, but before you could even pout his was back inside you. If you thought he was needy before, this was frantic. He hugged your body tight to his, his feet scrambled against the sheets, looking for purchase so he could fuck you deeper. 

He couldn’t string together a sentence anymore, but you no longer needed him to tell you how good he felt. You could feel it with each throb of his cock deep inside you.

“Can’t stop–” he gasped, and you grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper.

A hungry, desperate sound left his mouth, and you knew you had him.

“Give it to me,” you whispered in his ear. “Fuck my little pussy, daddy, it’s yours.”

Bucky’s hand gripped your ass hard as he shoved his cock as deep as it would go. His teeth bit your neck as he came. You yelped at the pain, but tangled your hand in his hair to keep him there.

His thrusts became more frantic at first as he fucked himself through his orgasm, but eventually he slowed, the static in his brain clearing just enough to speak again. You were both keenly aware that he’s still coming, fucking you slowly as he does.

“Fuck, such a good girl, taking it so well.”

All you could was whimper, entirely spent.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well for me.” Bucky kissed you gently, distracting you from the loss of his cock.

“Should have done it sooner,” you mumbled, and Bucky nipped your bottom lip.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise.”

You were about to give a sarcastic answer when he deliberately pressed himself against your hip and your eyes went wide.

Bucky nodded, a cocky smile on his lips.

You lifted your head, looking down to confirm with your own eyes before flopping down onto the bed. “God, you’re a fucking wet dream.”

“You’re one to talk, kitten. Now let me take care of you so you can be good and ready for that round two you promised.”

Bucky squeezed your ass before leaving the bed, leading you to the shower.

His guilt was no longer present, completely replaced by fiery lust.

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