Latest Posts by tsnelf7 - Page 3

Fuck

Claws Out || Stucky

STUCKY x shapeshifter!reader

Summary: After Bucky saves you from hunters who kill your kind, or enslave them, he secretly helps bring you into the avengers fold - not knowing who can be trusted. Bucky is the one person you feel you can trust until you meet Steve.  Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, blood, violence, death, sexual tension WC: 2.8k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || steve masterlist || part 1 || part 2

You squirmed under the scrutiny of the people you had just met, their rigid formation seeming almost defensive against a new arrival to the team. You could feel the burning questions playing on their minds but not a single one asked you. They wondered who you were and why a civilian was suddenly an avenger but kept their mouths shut as Tony stated your short introduction. There wasn’t much information to give besides your name, only the key part that he seemed to enjoy skipping over.

“So what do you think her specialty is?” Nat asked Bucky as they walked to the gym together. “Canon fodder?”

“Leave her alone, you don’t know her.” Bucky stated coldly before veering off down a hall and away from the Black Widow.

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it.” She called out before continuing on her way.

You watched the interaction with a heavy heart before quietly following Bucky’s footsteps to his room. The door was left open just a crack and you curled your paw into the gap and widened it enough to fit your feline form through. Bucky sat at the edge of his bed, watching you slink your way in and jump up beside him gracefully.

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This is so fucking good

Hey sweet Olivia 🥰 have you ever considered writing a Royal AU ? I love the idea of King Bucky and maybe maid or non Royal Reader ! Just thought that’s something you’d like ! Have a great day 💗

Sorry this took so long my lovely 💕

The Cost of Kindness || King!Bucky

Summary: An innocent interaction tears you from your reality and towards a marriage you didn't ask for or want. Warnings: 18+ only, soft!dark Bucky, fluff WC: 3.2k

Bucky’s Masterlist

“Excuse me, sir, you need to pay for that.” Your words were polite but your tone was cool as you caught the would-be thief's hand by the wrist. 

His face was mostly hidden by the cloak that wrapped around his shoulders, the hood only revealing a pair of oceanic eyes. The apple fell from his fingers and you caught it before it could land among the rest and bruise them, lowering the sale price even more. 

“The cost?” He asked quietly, a satiny voice that seemed too smooth for a man in a filthy, raggedy cloak filled with holes larger than your fist. 

His eyes fell to the fruit with longing and you felt sorry for him, looking over your shoulder to see your boss in a conversation with another market vendor. “A smile.”

He blinked slowly as he turned all his attention to you, his hood falling back a bit to reveal a pair of full, pink lips. “A smile?”

“You think it too much, sir?” You teased as you held the ruby red apple up.

“Hardly.” He chuckled, his lips curling into a smile that left your pulse racing and he leant in closer, his teeth biting into the apple in your hand. You were mesmerised by the way his jaw clenched with every chew until his adams apple bobbed with his swallow and you swallowed deeply in appreciation. “I would have been willing to part with a kiss.”

Your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath but before you could respond there was a commotion breaking out as soldiers entered the marketplace. A King’s guard marched towards your stall and you reeled back in fear as he raised his spear, only to stab it into the ground and salut. 

“Your Majesty,” the guard bowed, “it is the Queen Mother. She urgently requests your presence in the palace.”

The apple fell from your grasp, the pure flesh landing among the filth on the floor, much like the King entering the lowly marketplace. You fell to your knees in the mud and bowed your head as your eyes filled with fearful tears, begging for forgiveness and leniency for touching him - an act punishable by death. A warm finger curled beneath your chin and tipped your head back to see those bright eyes and you chided yourself for being so foolish. Eyes like that could belong to only one man, King James.

“Stand.” He beckoned as the pressure to your chin increased and you rose up as gracefully as you could.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, I didn’t know it was you. Forgive me.” You whispered as the tears broke the line of your lashed defence, streaking over your cheeks to spill on his hand.

“You didn’t know it was me.” He nodded in agreement, his hand coming to rest on the silver and gold hilt of his sword. “Yet you were still offered your goods for a smile.”

“I did.” Your body trembled as you confessed and you closed your eyes while you waited for him to draw the sword and end your life with one fell swoop.

“Steven, bring the lady to the palace.”

You opened your eyes and saw the guard that had met the King look you over before nodding. A crowd was already gathering and you could hear their whispers spreading rumours as you took the guard's arm that he offered, wishing you could run in the opposite direction.

“He’s made a mistake, I’m no lady.” You pleaded with Steven as you watched the King shrug off his hooded cloak, revealing a fine suit beneath. “I’m just a farmer’s daughter.”

“Just stay calm, take a deep breath.” Steven said before you heard him whisper to himself. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”

You knew there was no point fighting but your pace slowed until Steven’s hold on you tightened and your sandals began to skid through the dirt. 

“Listen up, farmer’s daughter.” Steven growled beneath his helm as he turned his ice blue eyes down to you. “The King has given his order, now I am going to deliver you to the palace but it is up to you whether it is on your own two feet or not. I have no quarrels with tossing you over my shoulder if it makes my life easier.”

You sighed in defeat before grabbing your linen skirt and tugging it up so you could march faster towards Steven’s horse. The beast was huge and nothing like the old girl that slowly dragged the plough through the fields at home. This was a royal steed, purebred for strength and stamina in wars, and from the heavy stomping of his hoof he did not seem happy to have his rider replaced.

“Steady, Boulder.” Steven soothed his horse as he ran his palm along its neck before it reared back and snorted, steam exploded from his nostrils like the dragon on his crest.

“She’ll ride with me.” 

The King had seen the fear in your eyes as Boulder reared and he pulled the reins in your direction, leading his golden haired stallion towards you. You looked between both horses, their muscles rippling beneath shiny coats and standing at the same height. 

“I could walk.” You muttered as you looked to the distant palace. “I promise you, I won’t dally.”

“Nonsense. Now get on.” James ordered as he held his hand down for you. 

You looked at the leather riding glove and swallowed the lump in your throat as you placed your hand in his. His strength surprised you and you barely caught the small squeal that built as he pulled your feet off the ground and over the space he left in front of him.

“Wonderful.” You grumbled to yourself as you rearranged your tangled skirt layers and settled into the hard saddle. “This is just perfect.”

“More than you know.” James’ voice was barely more than a whisper before he cleared his throat and clicked his tongue to set his horse off at a trot. “You are going to hear things in the palace that should not be repeated. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head. “I did one good deed and now I am to be punished. No, your Majesty, I don’t understand anything.”

“You are not being punished.” James sighed, the sway of the horse’s walk rocking his lips closer to your ear. “And, please, when it is just us you can call me Bucky.”

You turned your head away with a scoff and watched the cherry blossoms opening as the sun rose higher over the land, warming the cool spring air. You would have thought the day perfect for a ride, if only you had a choice on where it was you were headed. 

The crunch of hooves of the gravel path began to grate on your nerves and your spine stiffened as the towers of the palace began to peek over the trees. You were so rigid that when you felt Bucky’s hands loosen the reins and come to rest on your knees you jerked and nearly fell off his horse. 

“Sorry, habit of riding alone.” He chuckled as his hands caught your waist and steadied you back in front of him. “You can hold the reins if you wish.”

You shook your head rapidly at the thought of trying to control such a beast and leant away from them as if the leather bands were a pair of vipers. The retreat pressed your back into Bucky’s chest and you felt his lips brush lightly over your neck, a gasp escaping your lungs at the electric shocks the touch sent down your body. 

“I’ll take that as a no then.” He chuckled quietly in your ear, goosebumps prickling over your skin as he once again gripped the reins and laid the fists over your skirt.

Every jostle shifted his hands and your heartbeat harder every time, a similar beat beginning to throb between your legs. 

“Bucky?” You asked, feeling his chest rumble with a deep hmmm in response. “If I am not being punished, why am I being taken to the palace?”

His chest rose and fell against your back as he pondered how to answer you until he could see no good outcome for any excuse he gave. “You’ll see.”

The dress you had been gifted was unlike anything you had ever worn before. The fine embroidery told a story with its delicate thread, roses and dragons, thorns and fire. The theme danced around the skirt while the corseted bodice left you feeling breathless but beautiful. 

You were desperate to find Bucky and get answers but every time you asked where the King was you were shushed and told to be patient. Patience was not your virtue and you struggled to sit still as the ladies surrounding you tried to arrange your hair that now smelt of rose water and patchouli. You had offered to do it yourself but quickly closed your mouth at the glare reflected in the mirror. 

“May I come in?” Bucky asked with a knock at the door.

“It’s your palace, your Majesty.” You replied as you rolled your eyes before you cried out in pain and saw the seamstress waving her needle at you in threat of another poke.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked as he heard you and pushed the door open. “Oh, wow, you look absolutely stunning.”

Your eyes turned to the floor as you shied away from his heated gaze, your fingers tracing the golden thread of the dragon's head. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

He stepped closer to you and held his elbow out for you to take, your silk gloved hand coming to rest lightly on his forearm. “Did I mention how wonderful you look?”

“It’s the dress.” You mumbled as you followed his lead through the candlelit halls. “It’s very beautiful.” 

“It is, but so are you.”

You were sure the silver necklace that hung around your neck would melt from the heat you were producing but the ruby pendant remained set between the valley of your breasts. Unable to form a reply without confirming that he had your mind in a tizz, you remained silent and focused on walking in the heeled shoes that had been buckled to your feet. 

“I know I have been secretive about why you are here, and I am sorry for that.” Bucky said as he came to a stop outside a fair of formidable iron doors. “I am also sorry for what you are about to hear but I hope you will forgive me in time.”

The air froze in your lungs as the doors opened and you were led into the formal receiving room that was filled with royal advisors and the Queen Mother. Bucky’s mother rose to her feet as she saw her son, her eye’s barely giving you a cursory glance before she descended on the King.

“What is this I hear of you traipsing through the market like a peasant?” You struggled not to flinch at the icy tone of his mother and instead focused on the feel of Bucky’s muscles clenching in his forearm as his hand formed a strained fist. Looking up you saw his cheek ticking, the shadow of a beard sharpening his jawline as he suppressed his blatant anger. “I have spent the entire month convincing King Anthony to arrange a marriage with his daughter and on the day of her arrival you are nowhere to be seen.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself needlessly.” Bucky stated. 

“Needlessly?” She scoffed. “You know the law, you need a Queen to produce an heir if you wish to remain on that throne your father died to put you on.”

Bucky’s free hand came to rest on yours, a small squeeze given as he squared off with his mother. “I need a wife, not a Queen.”

You tried to pull away as Winnifred turned her cold eyes on you but Bucky held your hand firm, his strength overpowering yours tenfold. She may have been shorter than you with her age but she still managed to look down her nose, scrutinising every part of you - even the depth of your soul seemingly. Other than the wide eyed, petrified look on your face there was no way of knowing you were one of the ‘peasants’ from the marketplace, you looked as adorned and pampered as the rest of the ladies in the room. 

Turning back to her son, you breathed a sigh of relief that her intense stare was no longer on you. “You would crown a nobody when you could have a princess?” 

“I would rather crown a kind nobody than have another frigid bitch living within these walls, mother.”

His fingers tightened on your arm as he felt you trying to pull away. The corset suddenly seemed too tight and you couldn’t draw the air needed into your lungs. 

“The poor woman is going to faint. She will never survive Court.” Winnifred laughed, turning her back on the King and walking back to her chair set aside from the pair of thrones centre to the room. “Tell me, darling, the treasury is waning - what dowry do you bring? What can you do to make this union profitable?”

You hadn’t known the country was in a dire financial state, in fact, from the lavish balls that were thrown each month behind the high palace walls you would have thought the opposite. Clearing your throat, Bucky looked at you with surprise as you stepped forward with a sudden fire in your belly. You didn’t want to marry the man you had just met, you didn’t want to be standing in the throne room of the palace, but since that was where you were you had a duty to your fellow lower class people to speak up.

“For starters, tax the rich.” You stated boldly, a chorus of scoffs and mocking laughter circling the room before the previous Queen held up her hand to silence them. 

“And when they revolt? How will you stop them from fighting?”

It was your turn to laugh as you shook your head incredulously. “I’m not sure how battles were fought back in your day, your highness, but I’ve never seen the rich or royal fight. You hide in the safety of your palaces while you send poor sons and fathers to their death.”

You turned to look around the room, glad to see at least a few ashamed faces unable to hold your stare until you face Bucky, that same smile he had given you in the market sending your heart racing. His arm curled around your waist and he nodded to his mother before guiding you back out of the room, his grin never wavering as the heavy doors closed behind you.

Pulling yourself from his touch you turned and poked your finger into his hard chest. “You smile at the idea of war?”

“Not in the slightest.” He smiled with a shake of his head. “There are very few people who would disagree with my mother. Ever since I saw you arguing with the forecourt master, I knew there was something special about you.”

Your feet stumbled as you remembered the argument the week prior. The price of hiring a market stall had increased twice in the last quarter and it was getting harder to sell products with the inflation - customers opting to travel further out of the city to where prices were cheaper. There had been an audience to the arguments but you hadn’t paid enough attention to the individuals to notice if there had been a cloaked figure among them. 

“Why have you been watching me?” You asked as you backed away from the King, the  hem of the long dress tripping you and nearly sending you falling into a tall candelabra.

Bucky surged forward and caught you around the waist, your breasts straining dangerously close to the top of the corset as he cradled your arched back and you threw your arms around his neck in case his strength failed. “Because I require a wife to keep my title, and I think you have the qualities needed in a Queen.”

“I’m not a royal.” 

“There is no written law that you have to be, trust me, I have read them all.” Bucky sighed, pulling you upright but keeping you in his arms. 

“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you. This morning I was ankle deep in mud selling fruit and now I’m,” you tugged at the dress, falling short on the word you wanted, “this. It isn’t me. I’m sorry but you should marry the Stark princess, your Majesty.”

“Forget the dress, just for a minute, forget the hair and the jewellery, even the palace.” Bucky begged, his eyes glowing bright in the midday sun that filtered through the windows of the hall. “You are brave, everyone in that room has witnessed it first hand. You understand business and commerce, albeit on a smaller scale than a whole country - but it’s really not that different. Most of all, you care about other people - even when there is no benefit to you. That is a rare sight to see and it was the moment I knew you were the one to rule at my side.”

“Bucky, stop.” His fingers tipped your head back and you could feel the warmth of his breath across your cheek, your body ready to betray your mind as he leant in, but you turned away at the last moment. “You claim to know my character but you have yet to ask the most basic information about me.”

“I’m not saying this will be easy, and I promise we will get to know each other with time.” He sighed. 

“So you don’t even want to know what my name is? My birthday? Where I live?”

“You think I didn’t find all this out before I arranged our wedding?” He chuckled. “I know everything about you, Y/N. That is why I know you are perfect for me.”

The room began to spin as his confession battered around in your brain. “I can’t marry you.”

“You can and you will.” Bucky promised as he cradled your cheek while you froze beneath his touch. “Your father has already accepted it, with more than fair share of remuneration I might add, so I suggest you do too - and quickly.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and sagged in defeat, knowing your family needed the money as much as you needed your head to live, something that you were at risk of losing if you disrespected the King. “Fine.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, but we can learn to love each other.” He murmured gently as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. “You can’t deny the spark between us.”

You closed your eyes, the small shake of your head giving him hope as he wrapped his arms around you. There was no way to deny it, in his arms you could almost forget where you were as his scent drove you wild and his touch threatened to set your body on fire. Resting your head on his shoulder you hoped he was right, but only time would tell.

——

@nash-dara @buckyisperfect @itswanktime @slutforsexyseabass @sea040561 @gryffindorqueensworld @honeywithemoney @kenzieam @tsnelf7 @jmeagin-blog @saranghaey @heavenly-rogers @bibibeauelle @wildcat116 @glxwingrxse @ymasen @thebuckybarnesvault @hoe-4-sebstan @tailsoflightning @avengershoney @hallecarey1 @tonystarksmutgarden @sunflowerfive @tripletstephaniescp @inlovewithbuckybarnes @kamaria-sweet-writes @youngr0se95 @scxrpioscult @ke05 @balekanemohafe @ladiesloveluxury @cjand10 @mogaruke @tenpointsforbucky @matchat3a @prk1990 @misshale21 @pono-pura-vida @buckyisguiltypleasure @thrxshsxbbxth @rachellovesloki @ashenc-blog @winterstorm311 @chaoticevilbakugo  @evanstanwhore @pandareesstuff  @lonesomewitchking 

Baking Lessons (Marc Spector x f!Reader) 18+

Summary: Marc Spector can’t bake, but for you he’ll try. You and Marc bake cookies together… among other things.

Angst, fluff, smut (the big three)

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!reader, hint of Jake Lockley and Steven Grant x f!reader

Warnings: Sad Marc, DID, Oral sex (f receiving), Not edited

A/N: I just think Marc needs some more love, and I’ve been baking to deal with stress. I’m still working on requests, so if you’re waiting for one, it is coming!

–

Marc Spector has no idea what he’s doing. There’s an egg about to roll off the counter, and he reaches out and catches it with the instincts of a superhero.

Because that’s what he is - a superhero not a baker. Except that for you he’ll be anyone, do anything. That includes telling Khonshu to fuck off for the night so he can bake chocolate chip cookies and try to have a nice date with you. You who have been talking about these stupid cookies all week but have had no time to make them.

Keep reading

Chaotic

relationships: steven grant x avenger!witch!reader, future marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader [gender neutral]

word count: 2.3k

summary: When you move to London you aren't expecting to fall in love. You also aren't expecting an Egyptian god who kind of sounds like Darth Vader to crash your date but that's just your life apparently.

warnings: reader assaults khonshu with bread, enemies to friends w/ khonshu, big bird is kinda rude to steven but u put him in place

a/n: reader uses chaos magic and is also psychic, f/c = favorite color, steven/marc/jake are moon knight but lets pretends the whole harrow/armpit drama hasn't happened yet, can you tell that my biggest writing influence is rick riordan?

masterlist | moodboard

Before you even met Steven, you felt him. 

That sounds odd but your abilities make you constantly aware of others, which can be a lot. Especially in such a bustling city like London. Of course you didn’t read his mind or anything. It’s a common misconception that telepaths just love to read minds but that’s not true. You only use it on enemies for information, if you just went around listening to people's inner thoughts you’d probably drive yourself mad. People are weird. 

All that being said, you decided to go to the London museum, thinking it would be quiet and relaxing. A nice little escape. You didn’t think how overwhelming it would be to be surrounded by history, invading your senses with centuries of stories. Mostly fucked up stories because colonialism. After years of studying magic your mind is like a fortress, but that didn’t stop the artifacts from banging on your mental door. You’re incredibly grateful that you’re able to control your visions now. You do not want to see all this shit first hand.

You manage to stumble into the gift shop, one hand rubbing your temple in an attempt to ward off the coming headache. You sense some kind of power, something looming and ancient. You wonder if it’s from the Egyptian wing you just walked through but this feels more… recent. It’s an odd sensation that isn’t helping your overwhelmed mind at all.

“Are you alright?” A gentle voice acts. Apparently you aren’t doing great at hiding your discomfort. You look up to meet the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, framed with dark eye bags. He's absolutely beautiful. Like a sleep deprived male model. Before you can answer you find yourself stumbling, dots swimming in your vision. He quickly leaves the counter to grasp your arm with large, gentle hands.

His touch burns through your designer coat (a parting gift from Tony Stark) but not in a bad way. His energy is unique. Fractured but whole. Chaotic but wholesome. “I’m fine, just a dizzy spell.” You mumble, trying not to lean into his body. Would it be manipulative if you pretended to faint so he would catch you? No, you’re better than that.

“You sure? Maybe you should sit down. I could get you a drink, or a snack.”

You should tell him that you’re fine but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. He’s just so genuine. And look at that hair! Would it be weird to touch it? You suppress the urge, managing a polite response, “that sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. I think I just need some fresh air.”

“Don’t worry, my boss is always telling me to be more helpful with customers. Lets get you outside, yeah?”

You grin, lidded eyes flicking to his name tag, “thank you, Steven. That’s very kind of you.”

He flashes the sweetest smile you’ve ever witnessed, making you even more light headed. He keeps his grasp on your arm as he leads you to the exit. You can already feel your mind clearing thanks to the distance between you and the artifacts. Once you’re safely leaning against the wall Steven speaks up, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere."

Within a minute he’s back by your side. He presents you a bag of scarab gummies, “here you are.” He pauses for a moment before adding, "I don’t know why we sell these, they weren’t eating stuff like that in Ancient Egypt, were they?

“Thank you.” You smile, finding his rambling adorable. You try not to reaxt when you take the candy from him and his calloused fingers brush your own. “I’m also realizing I never introduced myself, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. That’s a pretty name.”

Before you can stop yourself you mutter under your breath, “you’re prettier.” You watch in horror as he tenses up, ears burning red. “I-I think you’re pretty too. Beautiful, more like it,” he fumbles. Suddenly the gummies are out of your hand, you look down to see them floating above your palms, surrounded by a F/C glow. You quickly snatch them in your hands. Luckily Steven is too busy staring at his shoes in embarrassment to notice.

You clear your throat nervously, catching his attention. “So, do you like working here?” Really? That’s the best you could come up with. You mentally facepalm. He nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, I love history. It would be nice to be a tour guide though. Maybe one day, right?”

You hum in response, shoving some gummies in your mouth before you can ask any other dumb questions. “Do you, um, like your job?” He asks politely.

You pause. So he really doesn’t recgonize you. Not that you consider yourself famous but ever since you joined the Avengers on a few missions you found yourself thrust in the public eye. You meet a lot of fans but people also tend to be… wary of you. Apparently being one of the most powerful magic users on Earth makes them uneasy.

“I work… in security.” That’s technically not a lie. “It can be stressful but I get to travel a lot so that’s fun.”

“Have you ever been to Egypt?”

The childlike excitement in his voice is absolutely adorable. “A few times, yeah. What about you?”

“No, I wish. I’d love to go someday.” He sighs wistfully. “Enough about me though, are you feeling any better.”

His concern makes your heart flutter. “Much.” You grin, shuffling your bag on your shoulder to look for your wallet. “How much were the gummies?”

“They were only a few pounds, don’t worry about it.”

Thoughtful, gorgeous, and polite? You’re convinced Steven was written by a woman. You bite your lip in a way you hope looks flirty. “Well I need to pay you back somehow. What about lunch?”

He freezes, looking at you incredulously. “Are you… asking me out?” Any confidence you had starts to shatter. “I’m trying,” you mumble embarrassed. He shakes his head vehmently, “no, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just surprised! I mean, you’re so beautiful!”

You smile so big your cheeks hurt. “I think you’re beautiful too, Steven.”

His tan cheeks flame. “Thank you.”

“Can I have your number?”

He nods so quickly he reminds you of a bobblehead. You pull out your phone and type in his digits as he tells them to you. “I left my phone in the gift shop but I’ll text you as soon I get inside,” he promises, rocking on the balls of his feet. You grin as you send him a message.

“Stevie!”

A loud, feminine voice makes you both flinch. An aggravated woman pokes her head out the door, popping her chewing gum far too loudly for your liking. “What are you doing out- wait. Are you Y/N L/N?”

Steven looks at you in confusion as you nod with a charming smile. You can tell that she’s Steven’s superior and decide to help him out. “I am. What’s your name, hon?”

“Donna! I’m a big fan. It was so mental when you closed that portal to hell in New Jersey!”

Steven’s eyes become impossibly wider. “Yeah, that was a difficult one.” You reminisce fondly. “Would you like a picture?”

She nods excitedly, pulling out her phone. You take a selfie, trying not to chuckle at her excited gasp when you sling an arm around here. You try to ignore Steven’s bewildered gaze. Hopefully what you’re about to do will make up for your little fib.

“You know Steven here has been very helpful,” you muse after she clicks the photo. She looks at you surprised. You can already tell she doesn’t particularly like the man. “Really?”

You nod with an affirmative hum. “I bet he’s your best tour guide, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he actually works in the giftshop.”

You feign shock. “Really? I was hoping he could give me a private tour sometime,” you pout sadly. Donna hurries to comfort you, “oh, he can do that! I’ve been meaning to promote him anways!”

“That’s great!” You grin, turning your attention back to a very confused brunet. “I’ve gotta go but I’ll be looking forward to seeing you, Steven,” you purr, lightly squeezing his (suprisingly muscular) bicep. He nods dumbly watching you walk down the steps.

“Oi, what were you doing with a bloody superhero?” Donna asks him incredulously, the jealousy clear in her voice.

“Planning a date.” He breathes out softly, still wondering if the interaction was just a dream.

____

It’s the day of your date and Steven is ecsatic. Marc and Jake are not. They agree you’re beautiful but are very against the idea of going out with an Avenger, saying it will get in the way of their ‘business’ with Khonshu. But Steven is tired of letting that bloody pigeon influence his life so he ignores all of them, puts on his favorite jumper, and goes to the closest florist shop. And that’s how he finds himself standing infront of you with a boquet of sunflowers.

“These are just beautiful!” You gush, pressing a kiss againt his cheek as you take them. He flushes adorably. You do a quick scan around the park to make sure no one is looking before conjuring a vase with water. Did you do it just to show off? Yes. Yes you did.

You place the flowers in the middle of the picnic blanket. “Now we have a centerpiece,” you hum happily, grabbing the wicker basket you brought. He sits across from you, watching in awe as you pull a variety of noodles, dumplings, rice, and tofu dishes out. Like clowns coming out of a little car.

“Try this,” you offer, handing him one of the containers. “And don’t worry, it’s all vegan.”

He opens it to reveal ball shaped food he recognizes as dim sum. He uses the provided chopsticks to pop one into his mouth, moaning at the combination of steamed vegetables and rich seasoning.

“This is amazing!” You grin in response, working on your own fruit and tofu skewer. “That’s because it’s the real deal. I went on a little trip to Hong Kong this morning.”

He pauses mid bite, resembling a confused chipmunk. You snicker. “I can teleport, remember?” You point at his empty cup, feeling it with juice. “Maybe on our next date I can take you to Egypt?”

He inhales the dimsum in shock, choking loudly. You use your powers to pull the food out of Steven’s throat, looking at him in concern. He quickly swallows the drink you made him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, aces. Just got a bit too excited.”

“You’re adorable, Steven.”

As the date goes on you open up to each other. He tells you about his DID which you could somewhat sense already. His mind felt different but you couldn’t put a finger on it. You tell him about how you struggled to control your powers and accept yourself. You used to feel like a weapon but you learnt that weapons aren’t always a bad thing, they can be used to protect others. Instead of a nuclear bomb you started seeing yourself as a shield.

For once Steven doesn’t feel like an outsider. He wants to tell you about Moon Knight. He knows you won’t judge him. Just as he begans to build up the courage a booming, gravelly voice rattles in his head.

“Don’t tell her anything, worm!”

You both flinch. A shiver runs through you as your hair stands on end. All your instincts are telling you to get ready for a fight. That sense of ancient power you felt in the museum is back tenfold. “Did you hear that?” You ask Steven.

He looks at you in complete shock. “What?”

“Can the witch hear me?”

“Okay, where is that Darth Vader voice coming from?” You groan, eyes glowing F/C. Your powers mean you’re always aware of your surroundings, you don’t like this sudden uncertainty. Especially not when Steven is at risk.

Suddenly a large mummified being with a bird skull appears behind your date. Because this is what your life has come to apparently. “Can you see me, witch?” Without saying anything you use your abilities to send a roll flying, hitting him square in the beak. He flinches back in surprise. Steven watches on, not knowing if he should laugh or shake in fear. Maybe both.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask sassily. “You’re some kind of deity right? I’m getting Egyptian vibes,” you muse outloud. Despite having no real facial features he manages to look unimpressed. “I thought you had magic, yet you can’t figure out who I am, little one?"

You squint at him for a moment, reaching out your consciousness. “Khonshu? I think I’ll call you cashew.”

“You will not!” He bellows. Poor Steven flinches at the volume but you just purse your lips. “It’s not fun being called stupid nicknames, is it?”

He pauses, tilting his skeletal head at you. “Excuse me?”

“You called Steven a worm. That was very rude,” you huff protectively. “You should really treat your avatar better.”

“You know about avatars?”

“Magic, babe,” you tease, wiggling your fingers as sparks dance between them. “I want to be in Steven's life, and his alter’s if they’ll have me. We’ll be spending time together so we might as well get along, don’t you agree?”

The god nods reluctantly. “I suppose.”

“Good,” you beam up at him. “But if you ever disrespect Steven again we will have words,” you promise in a sickly sweet voice.

Steven looks at you in absolute awe. ‘I changed my mind. I like her,’ Marc speaks in his head. ‘That was fucking hot,’ Jake adds on helpfully. For once the system agrees on something.

____

taglist: @jallerentrags @huitzilinthebudgie3 @wintergirlsoilder2 @dreamerkim @jupitersmoon167 @n1ght5h4d3-24 @darkened-writer @sunipostsstuff @bex-tk1 @musicconversedance @nemtodd-barnes1923 @thegotfangirl @your-frenly-emo-rat @dadstarkblacksoul @certifiedhunter @tagakalat @galactic-galabee @yoongiwithglasses @theyaremorethanjustfictional @booksandbenbarnes @faefanatic @ness-is-vanillabean @lovesickollie @kemisuu @missdragon-1 @ristare @jck-r @brekkers-desigirl

if ur name is highlighted i couldn't tag u :(

a/n #2: i've never had such a long taglist! thank you for giving my work so much love before i even posted it🥹

Y'all better have the same energy with may calamawy's acting when she shifted between Tawaret and layla like you did with oscar Isaac. SHE IS SO FUCKING AMAZING I AM IN LOVE.

*Sees the limo* Me: Nice. *Sees Jake* Me: Nice. Also Me: Someone’s gonna write fanfic involving Jake and the back of this limo and I can’t wait.

Secret Identities (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x reader)

Summary: There’s part of your life that Steven, Marc, and Jake don’t know about. A big part… namely that you’re an Avenger. But they’re about to find out, and it’s not exactly how you wanted it to go

Fluff, some angst, mostly fluff

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader

A/N: I did my best to accurately represent DID, I had an unfortunate moment where I defaulted to she/her pronouns instead of making this gender neutral as intended, I think I corrected it all, but please tell me if I missed anything

Based on this request: If you take the requests, can I ask for Marc/Steven/Jack with a reader formerly Avengers but rather unknown to the public, and one day some agent from an organization interrupts the reader and Marc/Steven/Jack to ask for help in settling a case since reader is “one of the last remaining active Avengers and one of the people who fought Thanos to protect the universe” and Marc/Steven/Jack are just - wait what?!

—-

It was probably your own history that made a relationship with Marc, Steven, and Jake possible. As an Avenger, you were used to having the people you loved returning home with bumps and bruises and often worse. It was only natural that you’d end up in a relationship with a superhero, not an Avenger, but the boys certainly could be.

Not that you were going to ask them to join the Avengers, mostly because they don’t know about you. You hadn’t told Steven on the first date, nor the second, nor any after. You hadn’t told Marc when you met for the first time and he explained their DID. You hadn’t told Jake when he showed up to your flat in a black and white suit, covered in blood and told you through pained gasps that he was the Moon Knight. That would have been the ideal time to confess your own masked exploits. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that.

Keep reading

Deserve

Summary: Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader)

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: smut, some references to rough sex, angst (with a happy ending) - don't let me fool you this is just touch starved marc struggling with being loved

A/N: im fine im just really out here with nothing else to do but think about moon knight

Marc was an intense person. 

He was like the patter of rain against the roof, against an open window pane. He was like the shock and flash of lightning during a storm. 

The grim set of his mouth and shoulders, the unending weight of the world that made his brows dip into that hard line. Marc felt more than he let on, was affected by things people said and did, let the blows rain like ash against his skin and said nothing. 

You had learned long ago that Marc did not welcome comfort, that he felt it was something he did not deserve to receive. Soft, shaded mornings were for his alter. Everything squishy and warm, hazed in the breathy glow of a sunrise, was for you and Steven, not him. 

Maybe it wasn’t that Marc didn’t welcome comfort. 

He craved it, wanted it, longed for it. 

And he should not long for it, want it, crave it. 

He’d told you as much, over and over, the weight of your gentle hands against his skin like burning embers. 

He wanted it. He so badly wanted to sink into that flame, but he was worried it would burn him alive, melt him down into something unrecognizable. 

It was only when something went particularly badly that he allowed some comfort. 

He loves you, this you know. 

You see it in the heaviness of his stare, in the intensity of his worry, in the way he hugged you, held your hand, worried after you like you had not survived for years on your own. 

But if you ever dared to hold his hand, hug him, drag your fingers down the length of his spine, it was too much for him. These were things he could offer you, but that you should not give him in return. These were not things he deserved, these were things better reserved to his alter, who was deserving of everything he was not. 

Marc is intense.

He’s hard and wild and something close to broken some days, when reality drifts in and out of focus, when the world is best left in the hands of Steven.

There’s always a beating heart of anxiety behind everything he does, that this time he will not be enough, that this time he will not be fast enough, that this time the universe would get the last laugh again.

So when Marc fucks you, he is intense, he is like the weight of the all consuming world poured out. Salt water in wounds. 

You don’t mind. 

The times he’s gentle with you, you get the sense that he’s mourning, like the act is grief, something lost that he’s stealing back from the gods. Something that is temporary and definitely not for him. 

This night, he had come to you like the storm he bred inside him, the hatred of self and fear of a future he could not control, of a tentative reality of things only he could see. 

Marc was rough with you.

His fingers in your mouth, his hand hard against your cunt, against your ass. He had buried himself inside you, set a punishing pace. When his mouth was on yours, his kiss had been more like an effort to consume you. When his hand wrapped around your throat, his eyes had snapped to the mirror, and you had known Steven had been cautioning him, that you were in fact breakable, no matter what you said, that he should be careful of you. 

But you’d covered his hand with your own and tightened his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in whatever bit of himself he would give you. 

~

A last stuttering breath passes your lips, eyes screwed closed, pleasure lighting up the insides of your veins, molten, like a river of fire that never ends. 

You clutch the sheets beneath your fingers and turn your face into a pillow as the last waves of your orgasam shutter through you. You bite off the moan that bubbles to the back of your throat when you feel Marc shift inside you, so full it's almost painful. 

Your thighs tremble, the insistent pressure of Marc’s hand against the back of your neck keeping you in place. His other hand kneads the flesh of your hip, and you know a bruise has already formed there. 

Marc pulls back, and thrusts into you one last time, a pleasant satisfied ache beginning between your legs. 

The firm fingers at your waist finally let you drop your hips to the mattress. 

You feel weightless and warm, content, like you’re floating through a cloud. Marc presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, before the heavy bulk of his body surrounds yours. 

Disappointment darts through you in a brief little flash, because this is Marc’s parting gift to you always. 

The kiss between your shoulders, the all consuming fire of the warmth of him against you, before he hands the reigns to Steven. 

Marc never stays with you, after. The kiss against your spine is all you get from him. Whether because he can’t be bothered with taking care of you or because he feels he doesn’t deserve to, you aren’t sure. 

Steven is always there though, to kiss you back to life, to smile at you, make love to you so slowly and sweetly it was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.  

His fingers slide up your arms, massaging as he goes, until he reaches your clenched hands, gently uncurling them from the fabric of the sheets until he can twist his fingers with yours. 

You feel him squeeze carefully, his nose dipping to the crook of your neck. 

A stillness falls over you both, silence, peace, creating a warm little bubble. 

You don’t mind his weight against you, it settles the frantic beating of your heart, drenches you in warmth. 

Normally, Steven would say something to you when he fronted, a kiss against your cheek and a softly spoken hello, love. 

Today, he’s silent, arms tight and grounding around you. 

But it's Steven, you know it must be. 

Because Marc never stays. 

You turn your head, nuzzling your nose against his arm, feeling his damp skin against your cheek. You want to open your eyes, reach up and touch the little black curl of hair you know must be stuck to his forehead at that moment. 

You’re content to stay like that with him, content to feel the gentle drift of his nose along the curve of your jaw. So you keep your eyes closed and let your mushy, sex-addled brain drift, as lips press along your jaw, behind the curve of your ear. 

And you’re happy to stay in the gentle warmth being offered to you, the glow of being loved so well.

But then, he does something inexplicable. 

Steven pulls away from you. 

He gets up. 

And he leaves. 

An empty feeling that you don’t like crawls up from the pit of your belly. A feeling that’s suspiciously like abandonment, that you know is not grounded in reality. 

Steven never left the bed, not without saying something to you first, not before checking in with you to ask what you needed or wanted. Especially not when Marc had been so rough with you. 

It was a routine that was being broken, a sacred step you didn’t know needed spoken out loud. 

You swallow thickly, peeling your eyes open. 

You don’t like the dirty, used feeling that’s overwhelming you, like you did not matter. 

Pushing yourself up is a monumental task, the ache of your bones like the grinding of cinder blocks against your flesh. You glance over your shoulder at the door. 

Then there’s a clatter from the bathroom and the door swings open, Steven emerging in only a pair of briefs. He still doesn’t say anything as he approaches and encourages you with gentle hands to roll over, the brief warmth of a washcloth between your legs. 

Which is odd. 

Because Steven would normally lie with you and talk with you, until you were coherent again, until you were secure enough for him to move away without feeling the sting of abandonment. 

Steven also talked almost non-stop to you, never without something to say. 

Normally,  you would throw on a shirt and play cards in bed, watch something on your laptop. Sometimes, Steven would just hold you and talk. Sometimes, he would make love to you again. 

But none of that happened until you were ready. 

Steven still doesn’t speak to you as he climbs back into bed, handing you Marc’s discarded shirt, which he gingerly helps you sit up and slip on.  

Steven’s head twitches toward the mirror, and you watch him watch his reflection for a moment. You frown, wondering what Marc could be saying to him. Marc, who always and without fail disappeared and walled himself off from both of you. 

And then it dawns on you. 

In your post-orgasm haze, and without the sound of his voice, you hadn’t noticed the signs that this was very clearly Marc still fronting, not Steven. 

Marc never stayed with you, never. 

Your throat is tight when he doesn’t say anything, his head is still swiveled toward the mirror, brows drawing tighter together with each passing minute. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat, “c’mere.” 

You snuggle down and hold out your arms. 

You half expect him to huff out an exasperated breath and lay back but avoid your touch. 

But he doesn’t. 

He curls into your arms, nudging his nose into the hollow at the base of your throat. He cradles you close, inhaling gently. 

But to your utter surprise, he lets you smooth your hands over his shoulders, through his unruly curls. The motion of it soothes you, comforts you. 

You glance toward the mirror and wish that you could see Steven there too, so you could ask what was going on in Marc’s head, why he was pretending to be Steven. 

“You okay?” You say as he lets you run a hand down his face, over the ridge of scar above his brow. 

It takes Marc a long time to respond, buried in your skin as he is, breathing you in, tracing rough hands along your hips and over your thighs, massaging where he knows you must be sore. 

You kiss the top of his head, blearily giving him all the love he was usually too prickly to receive.

He nods against you, so you slip hands down his back, over his hair. You aren’t sure why he’s pretending, but you find you don’t mind. It’s the kind of love you always want to shower Marc with but that he rarely allows. 

You want to ask him why, why he didn’t let Steven front. But you worry he might think you’re asking to see Steven, that you don’t want him there with you. 

Emotionally, Marc was a fortress, impenetrable and soldily quiet. Things simmered down in his gut, pushed away and down down down, until they overwhelmed him, until they burst to the surface in a violent torrent. 

Most often, it was when someone he loved was in danger, when the past became something he could no longer stare down, when the things he avoided were impossible to ignore.

And you’re terribly afraid that if you say anything now, he’ll clam up, shut down, pull away from you, leave the flat and take your heart with him. 

Gently, you slide down, until you’re eyelevel with him, one hand against his neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw carefully. 

You feel Marc’s hands go to the small of your back, big hands gingerly tugging you closer, until your nose is touching his, until you share the same air. 

And you can hardly believe that the man who had smacked your pussy, held you down and fucked you until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, whispered filthy things in your ear that you can hardly remember, that your brain fuzzes out when you think about too much - is now holding you so gently you may as well be made of delicate glass, is now allowing you to stroke your hands through his hair, pet his broad shoulders. His eyes are closed, trust you didn’t think Marc possessed pouring over you in waves. 

You know why. 

You know why he’s doing this. 

Marc would rather accept love in the guise of his alter than ever believe he was worthy of it himself. 

You think about the hatred that lives inside Marc, about the self-hatred that loomed always at the back of his mind. The hatred that ran so deep, that he felt so potently, that even his alter had thought the worst of him at first. 

Killer, mercenary, cold-blooded. 

Things that Marc accepted into the folds of who he was without question. 

Marc never let you hold him like this, and so you do so for as long as you can bear, tilting your chin into his so you can kiss him softly, feeling the slow drift of his hands down your sides to the curve of your ass, over the bruised skin of your hips and thighs. He hooks his fingers behind your knee and tugs your leg over his hip. 

You finger a curl at the back of his neck, the glow of brown skin molten in the low light of the flat. 

You swallow and hope that you don’t drive him away, but you can’t stand it any longer - his thinking that this is softness you would only grace Steven with. 

“Marc,” you whisper. “I know it's you.” 

Even the way they hold you is different. Of course, you can always tell. You did not need their voices to tell you who was fronting. 

Marc’s eyes flash open and you’re surprised to see fear there. 

You hold fast to him, though he doesn’t try to pull away. You raise a questioning brow and resume your gentle ministrations, trying to show him without words that you did not treat him carefully because you thought he was Steven. 

“How’d you know?”

You shake your head and press your thumb against the center of his chin, “I can always tell. It’s not something you can really hide.”

He tries to tug his face away from your hand but you don’t let him, stubbornly making him look into your eyes. 

“Baby,” you say, “You know that you are just as deserving-,”

“Don’t,” he says sharply. “Don’t do that.”

“But you are, Marc. I always want to do this but you always leave me,” you stoke a hand through his hair. “I know Steven has talked to you about it, too. Told you that you don’t have to go.”

Marc is stiff against you and you consider for a moment letting him go. 

But you don’t. 

You hold on, and murmur, “It’s okay to want this. It’s okay.” You keep feathering your hand through his hair, your touch as gentle as you can make it. “I love you, you know.” You touch the gold chain around his neck and finally glance away from his eyes, staring at the hollow of his throat instead as you say, “You don’t always have to have your walls up. I’m not - I won’t -,” you stop and consider your next words. “I love you exactly as you are.” 

There’s a long moment of silence after that, one in which your heart beats painfully fast and you wait for Marc to push you away. 

But it doesn’t come, his body slowly relaxes against yours again, your fingers continuing their careful press against his skin. 

His head tips toward the mirror on the wall, and he nods after a few long minutes, carefully plucking up one of your hands, to kiss each of your fingers, the flat of your palm, and then to curl them closed again, hold your hand against his chest. 

You can feel the steady thrum of his heart, and Marc doesn’t look at you when he says. “I want it too.” 

You wait a moment but he doesn’t say more. 

“I’m happy to give it to you, Marc.” 

“You - you give too much as it is.” He pauses for a long moment, before pushing you onto your back, hovering over you, his eyes darting over your face. 

And you’re amazed, wondering, at the love struck expression he wears, like you were the pinnacle of a universe that barely made sense, that was barely held together. 

“Steven deserves this,” he nods down at you. “He’s never-,” 

You hear the unspoken words - that is why Steven was born after all, to be all the things Marc thought he wasn’t, to shield himself. 

“Stop it. Marc, you are not your past. You are not bad. You carry around the weight of the world and these sins you think are yours alone. They aren’t.” You tip your head up to nudge your nose against his, Marc’s hands pinning both of yours to the space beside your shoulders. 

Marc is looking at you in that intense way of his, brows furrowed, mouth tilted in that overly-serious line. 

“And what if I don’t think I deserve it, huh? To get you like this?” 

“Don’t listen to you, then. Listen to me.” You hitch your knees up to frame his hips, holding him against you, levering pressure into the backs of his thighs until he drops down fully against you. “You deserve it. More than most.”

You know everything he’s ever done is flashing through his mind. His brother’s death and his mother’s wrath. His time as a mercenary, his time in the military. The way he thinks he breaks and folds and isn’t strong enough, never strong enough, not enough. The mistake of Khonshu. The way he thinks he failed Layla and Steven, and that he will do it all over again. 

“Hey,” you nudge his jaw again. “Quit that.” 

Marc nods slowly, intense stare pinning you down. “I deserve it.” He says it like he expects you to disagree with him, to laugh. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll remind you of that.” He releases your wrists, burying his nose in your neck, the breath he sucks in is shaky and wild, the drum beat of a storm he stored inside the stoic stone that surrounded his heart. 

You cup a hand against the back of his neck, your other hand sliding down his side, tracing the violent scars that dot his ribs. Carefully, you slide his boxers down his thighs. Your touch is soft against him, your body already welcoming to him, and he slides into you with a quiet groan. 

It’s not like making love with Steven, who was sillier and goofier than Marc would ever be. 

It’s different to how Marc normally fucks you, when the mood strikes him to give it to you slow. 

This time, it's sweet, it's like the smoky burn of incense, like the homecoming he’d been waiting for for years. Marc kisses you softly, groans into your mouth when he was normally quiet aside to talk to you, demand things from you. 

You tighten your legs around him, encourage him to move slower, push deeper. 

“Fuck,” he whispers against the delicate skin of your neck. 

Sweat beads on his forehead, the glow of him against you like the sun. When you push the curls back from his forehead to look into his eyes, you catch something vulnerable in your heart, like the knife of everything Marc was storming into you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs again. 

He ducks his head to kiss a path along your throat, where earlier his palm had circled the flesh. 

You drag your nails along his back, rub a hand through his hair, rock the cradle of your hips along with his. 

Marc reaches for one of your hands, kisses your fingers before guiding your hand to your cunt, “Sorry baby, I’m not gonna last. Need you to touch yourself for me.” 

You’re only a little bit shocked, but you tip his chin up to kiss him. Marc normally had a stamina that could win awards. 

Not now, it seemed. Not when you had given him permission to be slow and gentle and soft. 

Your breath is squeezed from your lungs, the heavy drag of him inside you almost enough to make you come. 

Marc doesn’t let you breathe, his mouth an insistent press against yours until you pull away with a gasp and you hear the sound of a quiet laugh against your throat, teeth digging into your jaw. 

You come unexpectedly, hips jerking up to meet him as Marc gives a harder thrust, looping an arm beneath one of your knees to open you up more, to slide that much deeper. 

The spot he hits within you makes your toes curl, makes it hard to catch a breath. 

“I can destroy you like this too, huh?” Marc asks, grinding against you, hips swirling as you groan from the breathless pleasure darting up your spine. 

“Don’t ruin this, Spector,” you huff, nipping at his jaw, only laughing a little. 

“Keep touching yourself. I didn’t say to stop,” he answers. 

Your eyes roll back when his tongue curls against the hollow of your throat. “I want you to come again,” his voice is a husky rasp in your ear.  

You’re still wearing Marc’s shirt, but when he releases your leg to palm your breasts through the fabric, you regret ever letting him partially dress you. 

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, “You’re so tense. Come for me again, hm? Come for me.” When he pinches your nipple and rolls it between his fingers, you do. White hot pleasure courses up your spine, makes your mind go blank. “Fuck, are you coming?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I’m coming for you.” 

“For me,” he repeats. “For me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, pleasure making your vision go fuzzy, your exhausted body trembling. “Marc, I love you.” 

His hand goes to your ass, angles your hips, before he thrusts so deep you see stars and he spills inside you.

You make sure to wrap your arms around his head, tightening your grip until he wiggles. “Can’t breathe, baby.” But you don’t want him to go anywhere, you don’t want the idea to even occur to him. 

You loosen your grip but say, “Don’t leave.” 

Marc’s jaw tightens, “Sorry about that.” 

“S’ok. Just don’t go.” 

“Not going anywhere tonight, honey.” 

You nod, nuzzling your nose against his cheek when Marc takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your fingers and wrist, your forearm, the crease of your elbow. 

“Stop that,” you grouse, a giggle at the tip of your tongue.

“I’m obsessed with you. I can’t.” 

You do laugh then, and he rolls you onto your side. He slips free from you and you feel the emptiness immediately, but then Marc is kissing you again, insistent and demanding, and it's forgotten. His fingers dance up the column of your spine, tracing the delicate vertebrae of bone with soft fingers. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers. It's so rare to see him without that stoic facade, the burned in self-hatred, that your heart gives a painful thump. 

You kiss his sweaty brow and think to remind him of something. “You’re so good, Marc. You deserve good things. You deserve kindness.” 

He doesn’t answer and you know he’s fighting down that automatic response, so ingrained into him it was almost a part of his DNA. 

“I deserve it,” he murmurs eventually and you figure it's as close as you’ll get to agreement. 

Marc lets you hold him, and he doesn’t try to move once. 

This is absolutely perfect !! I need a part 2 god

Moon Struck

Summary: Steven asks you out, Marc falls in love.

"“Cheers,” Steven chirps quietly, ignoring Marc. He knows he has a goofy smile on his face, he knows that he’s just staring at you.

But you’re smiling back and Marc is strangely quiet now, a glow of happiness lingers there. Steven has a suspicion that he’s happy too, basking in the fact that you said yes."

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader

Word Count: ~8.3k

Warnings: mostly fluff, canon-typical violence, threats of violence, angst mostly from Marc because he's just like that

A/N: My first moon knight fic! Please, please, please let me know what you think!

“Steven!”

Steven ignores the shout of his headmate as he hurries through the museum. 

He’s late, and he so hated making you wait for him. He had promised you long ago a personal tour of the museum. One you had insisted for months he eventually give you, when he had time. 

His heels drag, Marc putting on the brakes as he fronts for just a moment. 

Steven nearly drops the travel cup of tea he’s carrying, briefly tripping over his own feet and drawing the attention of several nearby people listening to a museum tour guide. 

“Sorry!” He gives an awkward wave before continuing on. 

“Would you stop that, Marc!” He glances at his reflection in the display case he’s passing. “You’re making us late.”

“I’m making you late. I didn’t agree to this.” Marc’s shoulders are tense, the line of his brows drawn together. 

Steven wonders if he’s wearing the same expression and briefly passes a hand over his face. He doesn’t want to be scowling when-

He bursts through a doorway, into the Egyptian exhibition, and spots you waiting exactly where you said you would be. 

A shy smile tugs at his mouth, and he tries straightening his shirt collar and running a hand through his unruly curls. He knows it's useless, that his shirts are perpetually wrinkled and his hair nearly always a mess. 

Marc has gone sullenly silent, and he knows he’s watching you too. 

Marc, for reasons Steven cannot begin to parse out, does not like you. 

Or, he pretends not to. 

Again, for reasons unknown. 

Which is entirely bonkers, because you are the most brilliant person Steven has ever met. 

He fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt, which is worried and frayed at the edges from his nervous fingers. 

Despite rushing moments earlier, he’s now anxious about how to actually approach you. 

You were his friend, he should have no problem with walking over and saying hello. 

Steven shifts from foot to foot as people swim around him in the doorway. He’s acutely aware that he’s stood in everyone’s way, the cup of tea in his hand going cold. 

The other thing he’s been promising you for months, a proper cup of tea. 

“Good,” Marc says, reflected in another display case, hands on his hips, chin lifted, “you see how stupid this is. Let’s go home.” 

But it isn’t stupid. 

It’s not stupid to want this. 

It’s not stupid to want you. 

Steven swallows, watching you move to read another plaque. 

As you read, your shoulders droop and then you dig in the bag slung over your shoulder. You glance at your phone when you find it, before tucking it away again. 

Then, you glance at your wristwatch, like it might tell you a different time than your phone had. 

You sigh and move toward the exit. 

Which is Steven’s cue to call your name, loudly. 

So loudly in fact that people turn to look at him. 

Brilliant. Already making a fool of myself. 

“Which is why we should just go home-,” Marc starts, but Steven ignores him. 

Marc, the absolute worry wart, thought you would break his heart. 

You’re smiling at him, a hand lifted in greeting as he approaches you. He would like to think you look relieved, happy to see him. 

But you’re like the sun, and probably look at everyone that way. 

He nearly stumbles into you, hastily handing you the cup of tea, wrapping your fingers around the cooling paper cup, his fingers laced over yours. 

“I was meant to bring you a proper cup and here I am with cold tea.” 

“Hardly very polite of you,” you tease. “Late to meet someone and with a cold cup of tea.” You smile and tsk under your breath. 

Steven fidgets and releases your hand on the cup, fingers nervously tangling together in front of his chest instead. “I’m really so very sorry. I’m always running late. I-I meant to be early today-,”

“Oh, my God,” Marc mutters. 

You lie a hand against Steven’s arm, stilling the nervous fluttering of his hands. “I was teasing you. It’s alright. I do expect an extra long tour though.”

Steven nods, staring at the shape of your eyes, the flutter of your lashes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

You’re quite close to him, his head bent over yours, and he thinks he can see all the shades hidden in your eyes. 

“You look like a love-struck moron,” he catches the reflection of Marc behind your head, arms crossed over his chest, brows still pulled together in that irritated line. “Stop staring at her like that.” 

But he notices that Marc is staring at you too, looking at the back of your head, like he could see to the marrow of you, and your intentions, if he just looked hard enough. 

But there’s a dip in his voice that makes Steven think he might be just a tiny bit jealous. 

Steven shakes his head, trying to ignore Marc’s acid comments. 

“Of course,” he says, glancing down at your hands, the cup held between them. “Would you try it, please?”

Steven had been shocked to find out you were a coffee drinker only, that you had never really tasted tea, at least not a proper cup. 

“I’ve had iced tea,” you had offered weakly, only for Steven to wrinkle his nose. 

“Cold tea? Why would anyone enjoy that?”

Now, he’s brought you a cup of cold tea anyways, and it was tea that wasn’t even meant to be cold. 

You smile at him, lifting the cup as you brightly say, “Cheers!” in your best impression of his accent. 

It’s quite terrible, and makes him laugh.

You take a sip, a considering look pulling over your features. 

“It’s really better when it's hot,” Steven says, awaiting your verdict like it really mattered, like it was incredibly important that you liked the cup of tea he had brought you.

You tilt your head to the side and nod, “It's still warm.” You take another sip, which Steven takes as a good sign. Marc is watching you too, and Steven knows that Marc thinks he isn’t noticing the intense attention he gives you. “I like it. Did you put something else in it?”

Honey. 

He had put honey in despite his better judgment, because he noticed the way you absolutely hammered your coffee with sugar packets. 

“Honey,” he murmurs softly as you look into his eyes with a bemused smile on your face. “Just a bit. Figured you might like it better that way.” 

“Can’t say I’m a convert. Coffee will always have my heart,” you say. “But it is very good.” 

Steven is glad, so glad, you like it. 

Maybe it makes him unreasonably happy. 

“Cheers,” he says, still watching you carefully, smiling, his face very near to yours. He can see the fluttering of your lashes, feel the ghost of your breath. 

You don’t seem to mind the closeness. 

Marc rolls his eyes, and Steven puts a hand on your arm to pull you away from the reflection. 

So he doesn’t have to think about his annoyed alter. 

He tries not to be too upset with Marc, with his brooding protective streak. But he does wish that he’d lighten up just a bit. 

Steven’s heart is soft, it was going to be broken no matter what happened in their life. He was okay with that, especially if it meant spending time with you. 

But that was a hard pill for Marc to swallow.

His habit of shielding Steven was still a hard one to break, even now they were working together. 

“Where would you like to start?” Steven asks you, something like pride filling his veins as he watches you continue to sip at the cup of earl gray. 

“You’re the expert,” you say, looping your arm through his. “You tell me where we should start. Although, I’m very interested in Taweret, after the stories you’ve told me.” 

“Oh, she’s bloody amazin’,” Steven says, watching the quirk of your lips as he takes your duffle bag from you, slinging it over his own shoulder, conscious of Marc’s silence at the back of his mind. “‘Course we can start with her.” 

Steven leads you, the pressure of your fingers against his arm welcome, a warmth spreading up from his belly to land at the back of his mouth. 

It makes his heart ache and his fingers tremble. 

The feeling is strange and welcome. 

He likes you. 

Quite a lot, actually. 

Which was why he hoped today was the day he finally managed to ask you out, the reason Marc tried so desperately to make them late. 

He had met you before he knew about Marc, before their grand Egyptian adventure and Khonshu. 

When he first met you some months ago, you were wandering the halls of the museum, a duffle bag much like the one you have today slung over your shoulder, your head tilted to the side as you examined an exhibit. 

Steven was meant to have been helping Donna move gift shop inventory when he spotted you, brows furrowed as you read a plaque. It was the way you stood that caught his attention, with your toes pointed out and heels together. 

He couldn’t have looked away if he tried, and so he wasn’t surprised when he ran into someone and dropped the box of inventory, stuffed goddesses and cheap replicas of the pyramids spilling across the floor right to the tips of your toes. 

People weren’t exactly nice to Steven. 

He didn’t have any friends, his co-workers overlooked him, forgot him, or were rude to him. He had his mother, of course, but things always seemed to keep them from speaking directly.

He knows the truth now, about his and Marc’s mother, about Marc. 

Still, that day, as the man he bumped into gave him a dirty glare as he turned away, you had stooped down next to him and helped him tuck the merch back into the box. 

You had been kind to him, friendly as no one else was. 

Your hand had touched his and it had been like those moments in all the cheesy rom-coms he didn’t remember watching. He had looked up into your eyes, realizing he was still apologizing repeatedly out loud.

“Hey,” you had said, before tilting your head to the side and glancing down, “It’s okay. Do you need some help?”

No one offered Steven help, not with anything, even when he asked for it. 

And so he swallowed and nodded even though you, as a patron of the museum, should not have helped him. He should have refused your gentle help.  

But you’d helped him until Donna came along and shooed you away. 

He’d thought that he’d never see you again, but you visited the museum all the time, at least once a week. 

He found out that you’d recently moved to London, that you were a staunch coffee only person, that you were a dancer, that your childhood dream had been to be an archeologist before your talent for dance had destroyed that hope. 

You were more interested in Greek and Roman mythology, but quickly became fascinated with Egypt, and Steven had been delighted, weirdly, bizarrely proud that he had put you onto it. 

That you read the books he recommended, that you listened to the music he told you about. That you listened to him without interrupting, or sighing, or checking the time. 

Well, those things were only an incredible bonus. 

You made his throat close up some nights when he lay trying not to fall asleep, because you were the first friend he can remember having besides Gus or his mother. 

Steven was lonely, but you made his world a little less so. 

Now he has Marc, who’s more than enough company some days, a friend that never left him. 

He’d been worried, upon coming back to London, that you wouldn’t be there, that he had dreamed you up and you were never real in the first place. 

He’d been excited to let Marc see you through his own eyes, though Marc claimed with indifference that he remembered you, that he already knew you through Steven and didn’t need to meet you properly. 

Steven had a suspicion that the disinterest was feigned, that he cared too, to know if you were still in London. 

Steven didn’t work at the museum anymore, and so it had taken a week of hanging around the place to finally catch you there one day after a rehearsal. 

To his utter horror, you had been visibly upset with him. Though he had missed you and worried after you, he never imagined that you would do the same for him. “I thought you just - I thought maybe something horrible happened. You just disappeared and they said you were fired? I thought you disappeared and didn’t bother saying goodbye. Steven what happened-,” 

You had demanded his phone number, so you could always reach him. 

It was amazing really, that you had never had it before. 

Steven was just grateful you were still around, still coming by the museum.

Most worryingly though, Marc had not been impressed with you. Or pretended not to be. Though he tried to hide it, Steven always had a keen sense of how Marc really felt, and Marc cared more than he ever let on. 

Now, though, he feels the gentle pressure of your fingers against his arm and thanks whatever god that might be listening, that you were still around, a person that rolled with the punches life dealt. 

Against the advice of his alter, who had almost seemed nervous, Steven had told you everything about what happened in Egypt, about Khonshu and Marc and Layla and Ammit and everything in between. 

“Don’t do it,” Marc had snarled. “She’s gonna think you’re nuts. She’s going to-. 

Marc hadn’t finished his thought. 

Whatever ridicule and judgement he had anticipated, you hadn’t fallen to his expectations. 

You had listened and somehow understood. 

“So,” you ask now as Steven leads you through the museum, “How is Marc?”

“Being a bit of a knobhead at the moment, to be honest,” Steven says, watching the smile that tugs at your mouth. 

“Oh. Khonshu related or..?”

Steven’s always honest with you, and so he doesn’t lie now. “Wasn’t too keen on my meeting you today, actually.” 

You nod as Steven leads you past an exhibit, into an adjoining room, past a miniature construction of the Pyramids of Giza. “Marc doesn’t exactly like me, does he?”

Steven waits for the snort from Marc, for a derisive comment. But nothing comes. 

The silence is more telling than anything. 

“No, he’s just a bit-,” Steven stops, wiggles his fingers, not really sure how to explain exactly how Marc was. 

You smile weakly at him, “We don’t have to talk about it, Steven. I know he’s very protective. In any case, I’m glad you like me. And I really care for you. I hope Marc knows that, at least.”

Marc remains stubbornly silent. 

Steven gives you the tour of the museum he always dreamed of giving when he worked there. You listen to him attentively, you ask him questions, and for the remainder of the day, Marc is quiet, though Steven knows he’s present, listening in instead of walling himself off. 

Mostly Marc leaves Steven be, when he’s with you. He can’t be mad at the happiness you bring, though he tries to protect the system in his own way. Steven knows it's why he’s so surly though he wishes he’d give you a chance. 

Marc claims that one of them needs to be clear headed, rational, when you inevitably break their heart. 

So, he’s surprised, when you’re leaving the museum near closing and asking Steven about what brand of tea he would recommend so you can start making it at home, Marc’s voice echoes in the back of his head. “Ask her out. You said you were going to today.”

Steven glances down, at the watery refraction of Marc staring up at him from a dirty puddle on the front steps of the museum. 

Marc says, surprisingly gentle, “You’re happy with her. Ask.” It's only  slightly demanding in tone. Steven suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. 

But his alter is right. 

So, Steven stumbles to a halt nearly knocking you into the puddle. 

And asks. 

“Wondering if maybe you’d come out on a date with me?”

You blink, your hand on his arm where you’d caught your balance, his fingers around your other wrist.

You just stare at him, your lips parting in surprise. 

Fear wells up into the back of his throat when you don’t immediately answer and he starts to stutter out an apology. “Sorry, sorry, don’t know what’s come over me just then. Just a bit taken with you, I suppose.” Steven swallows, feels the words pressing at the inside of his lips, nervous chatter threatening to break free. “You’re quite beautiful and very kind - bit inevitable that I’d have a crush on you, innit?” 

You blink again, stunned, like you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You have a crush on…me?” 

“Yes, no - well, yes, I do but -,” It’s not just a crush. Crush seems like a silly little word for the feelings you make flop around inside him. Squiggly, fuzzy feelings. 

“Shut up, Steven, give her a chance to reply.” Marc snaps at him, like he’s just as afraid that Steven will mess this up. 

He takes a steadying breath, reminding himself that you were truly very kind, and that if you said no, it would not be the end of all he held dear. “Yes, I quite like you. You’re kind and beautiful and smart. What’s not to like?”

“Nice job.”

And for once, Marc doesn’t sound sarcastic. 

His helpfulness is strange for someone who had been so against the notion mere hours ago. 

Steven bites down the rest of the words swimming in his mouth, telling himself that Marc is right about this thing. He needs to let you reply. 

“I, um, yeah,” you smile, almost like you’re unsure if he really just asked you, “yes. I’d like to go on a date.”

Steven stares at you, not sure he heard right. “Really?”

“Really.” 

“Jesus.”

“Cheers,” Steven chirps quietly, ignoring Marc. He knows he has a goofy smile on his face, he knows that he’s just staring at you. 

But you’re smiling back and Marc is strangely quiet now, a glow of happiness lingers there. Steven has a suspicion that he’s happy too, basking in the fact that you said yes.

Oh. Oh. 

Maybe Marc likes you too.

He was just shit at showing it, saying it.

Maybe that’s why he’s so concerned about the breaking of Steven’s heart, because it might break his too. 

“Oh,” you say, suddenly digging in your bag, still hanging on Steven’s shoulder. He shifts so you can better reach. “I got this for Gus the Second. I forgot to mention it earlier, although now is such a stupid time to be giving it to you,” you say, dipping your fingers into a pocket and bringing out a tiny replica of the Great Sphinx. “Sorry if he already has this one.”

You seem flustered with yourself, like you’re ruining a moment, when all your gift makes him want to do is kiss you. 

He flustered you too, apparently.

You got his fish a gift.  

Steven takes the replica from you gently, sliding his thumb along the surface. “Oh, he’ll absolutely love it.” He pauses, “You said yes, yeah? To a date? With me?”

Something about it doesn’t compute. Maybe you’ve confused him with someone else. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Did you have something in mind, Steven?”

“Er-,” he hadn’t thought that far ahead, but his name on your lips is like a balm. Everything would be okay. 

“Just dinner, Steven,” Marc says. “Doesn’t have to be elaborate.” 

Steven doesn’t dare look down at the puddle. Doesn’t want to see the smirk on Marc’s face that he can hear in his voice.  

“Dinner?” He hesitates. “Tomorrow sound good, yeah?”

“Yes,” and when he looks at you, you’re smiling. Like this was something good. Something you’ve been waiting for. “7 o’clock?”

“Brilliant.”

He tilts his head toward you, just to be a bit closer to you. 

It’s still a surprise when you lean up and kiss him gingerly, your lips soft and lingering. 

When you pull away, his heart is dancing and you are glowing. 

~

Marc is hesitant to speak to you, though he would never admit it to a soul. 

Steven probably knows, but he would never say so. 

He’s content to watch you through the eyes of his alter. You are Steven’s girl after all. 

Made of sunshine and steeped in warmth. 

You are not his. 

But Marc worries about you almost non-stop. He thinks about you constantly. He tells himself it's because Steven would break if something happened to you. 

But he knows. He knows when you laugh at something Steven says, he knows when you show up at the flat soaked to the bone from a downpour but smiling. He knows when you break in a new pair of ballet shoes against the hardwood floor of the flat. 

“You need to teach her self-defense,” He tells Steven when Marc is the one fronting.

“I’m not going to do that, Marc. She’s been safe before we met her, she’s safe now.” 

Yeah, only now you know about Moon Knight and Khonshu and everything. You know everything. 

Yet you never mention it, never ask. 

Occasionally, you will inexplicably leave a note for Marc, stuck against the glass of Gus the Second and Gus the Second’s Friend’s tank. 

Marc can’t make himself understand it, the way you leave little notes, ask Steven about what kinds of food he likes, ask how he’s doing.

Today’s note said - 

There’s a performance today. I know Steven has come to plenty, but I would love to see you there. 

You sign it with your name and a little heart. 

“She knows you care about her, Marc,” Steven says from the reflection in the tank, Gus and Friend behind his head. “She knows you follow her home when she works late.” 

“Only because you told her,” he snaps. “She didn’t need to know that.” 

Steven only gives a long suffering sigh. 

You know, you know that he follows your route home each night, to make sure you got there safe. And so you had taken up the inexplicable habit of talking to him as you walked. There was no way for you to know if he heard you, when he followed in the ceremonial armor on the buildings above you.

Still, you do it each night without fail. 

Marc, if he’s honest with himself, does not deserve to know you. Does not deserve the notes, the home cooked meals in tupperware left in the fridge with his name written in sharpie on the side of the box, does not deserve your late night chatter and one sided conversations. 

“She’s trying really hard. It hurts her feelings that you won’t even say hello to her. She isn’t expecting you to feel about her the same way I do.” 

Marc doesn’t respond, unsticking your note from the fishtank instead, folding it and tucking it inside his jacket pocket. 

He knows that it hurts your feelings. He sees it in your eyes every time you ask Steven about him, every time he refuses to meet you, even though he knows you, remembers you through Steven’s eyes from before Steven had been aware of him, back when he struggled to maintain Steven’s ignorance of the truth of his situation. 

You don’t know him though, so he’s not sure why it matters to you. 

But he catches Steven’s exasperated expression in the mirror by the door and he knows. 

It matters to you, because it matters to Steven. 

Not because you care about Marc. 

But because he is Steven’s best friend. 

And that is the problem. 

Because he wants you to care about him. 

“So you’ll follow her but you won’t just say hello? Marc, you could just introduce yourself and walk her home, yeah? Instead of stalking after her like a deranged bird?” 

Marc ignores him, ceremonial suit slipping over his skin, mask covering his face.

“Nope. This is much easier.” 

Steven only sighs again. 

~

“I just wonder if I’m any good for you,” you admit to Steven one rainy summer evening. You are propped in the window with a book, Steven on the couch with an open text. 

The air is warm enough that you leave the window open, the sound of rain and traffic drifting through the flat. 

Steven turns to you, taking the glasses perched on the end of his nose off. He frowns at you, brows pulling together over the round brown eyes you’ve come to love. 

He closes the book he had been pouring over. “What d’ya mean, love?”

“Just that,” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts. “I just know Marc is rather protective. And maybe if he doesn’t-,” You swallow, “Maybe I’m not really any good for you.”

Steven holds his arms out to you, and you readily cross the room to fit yourself in his arms, head tucked neatly beneath his chin. “You certainly are good for me. Too good for me.” You feel his chin against your forehead, gently drifting back and forth. “Don’t pay Marc any mind.” 

“Does he hate me?” You pull back to look in his eyes.

“Now, who could hate you?” 

You press a hand to the back of Steven’s neck, fingers trailing up to thread through his hair. He readily leans his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. 

You feel Steven tilt his head up a bit, and you know he’s watching the mirror, communicating with his alter who wanted nothing to do with you. 

“Could you tell him I don’t want anything from him? That I’d just like to introduce myself? He’s your best friend and I’d just like to say hello.” 

“He hears you,” Steven says. “Just being a bit of a pain in the arse as usual.” 

You suppress a laugh and tilt your head back to meet Steven’s eyes, cradling his jaw between your palms, sweeping your thumb over the thin scar above his brow. “He should know I’m not pressuring him, just that I would very much like to meet him, if he felt inclined.” Steven opens his mouth when you continue, “And that he’s become rather poor at hiding the past few weeks.”

“What?” 

“Just have noticed a certain caped individual on my walks home the last few weeks.” 

Steven’s mouth quirks, his eyes sliding to the mirror again. “He says you have a rather keen eye.” 

“Not so. It’s very hard not to notice sometimes.” As you speak Steven’s brows pull together and he frowns. “What's he saying?”

Steven glances back to you, his nose nearly touching yours. “Nothing you should worry your pretty head about,” he says, reaching up to cradle the back of your head, his lips finding yours, soft as the touch of a feather. “He can tell you himself if he bloody well pleases.” 

You feel slightly reassured as Steven kisses you, tilts you back against the couch cushions and slots himself against you, fingers running shakily up your side against your sweater. You dip your hands under his shirt, laughing quietly when he jumps at the sensation of your fingers against his scarred ribs. 

You feel better, at least, knowing that Steven wants you to meet Marc. 

You wonder what holds him back, what holds him back from even a hello. 

But Steven is kissing you and it becomes rather hard to concentrate. 

~ You talk to Marc on your way home from the theatre each night. 

You know he can hear you, walking on the rooftops above the streets you traverse each night. 

It makes you feel safe, knowing that he’s there, knowing that he cares enough to make sure you got home. 

You tell him about your day, quietly talking to yourself, drawing some curious stares but not too many. If these were the only interactions he would allow then you would make the most of them. 

You think you’ve seen Marc before. That he’d come into the museum once so that Steven wouldn’t miss work. His brows had been knitted tightly together, eyes narrower, mouth a hard frown. 

He hadn’t spoken to you that day, while Steven always made sure to, always. 

It’s raining when you leave the theater this night, your duffle bag slung across your shoulders, hood pulled up over your head as you race down the back steps, eager to get home, to make a cup of the calming tea Steven had gotten you and sleep. 

Your feet and ankles are sore and you felt like a good cry was in order. 

You don’t look up as the rain pounds down, sure that your guarding protector would be there as he always was. You just didn’t have the energy to greet him this night. 

Although you left rehearsal early, Marc always had a way of knowing when you left, of always being there. He was reliable, steady, even if he mostly avoided you. 

Tonight though, you wish you could go home and call Steven, though you know he won’t pick up, not until morning. Steven was who you called when you needed to cry, when you needed comfort. 

Steven was soft, in a way no one else you’ve ever known has been. 

You love dance, but the toll it took on your mental health some days made you wonder if it was at all worth it. 

Your thighs burn and your ankles ache, and you remember the way you were out of step and how the choreographer had sighed. The sound worse than disappointment and closer to condemnation. Maybe you aren't good enough to hack it in this particular dance company, and not for the first time, you think about going home.

The rain continues, drenching you to the bone. It pounds against the pavement beneath your feet, so loudly you don’t hear the footsteps trailing after you. 

You duck down an alleyway, a shortcut you don’t normally take because you’d rather take the longer way around and chatter at Marc. 

But you can’t be bothered tonight. You don’t even look up. 

If you had, you’d have known he wasn’t there, and then maybe you’d have stayed in the safety of the theater for just a bit longer, waited until he showed himself. 

One moment you’re hurrying along, the next a hand is pressed to the back of your neck, shoving you into the brick wall of the alley. 

You open your mouth to scream but a knife presses to the skin of your throat. It digs in just a little as the pressure at the back of your neck disappears and your bag is ripped off your shoulder. 

“Search that for me, yeah?” A male voice says before he leans into you, pressing your body into the wall with the heaviness of his own. 

You hear your things being ripped out of the bag, your dance garments and tights. Extra shoes. Ballet slippers. A bag of toiletries. 

“Search her, then. She ain’t got anything in here.”

Hands dig into you, rough and careless. But you don’t have anything on you, not even your wallet or phone, you know they’ll find nothing and then what?

What will be left for them to take? 

The knife divots into your skin, you feel the warmth of your own blood trail down your neck. 

Surreptitiously, you tilt your head up. Maybe Marc really has hated you all this time, and he’s about to let you be killed in this dirty alley. 

But there’s no one watching you, and you have to wonder for a moment if anyone ever had been there, as the unknown hand gropes through your pockets and then pats down the sides of your thighs. 

You wonder if you should fight. 

Was it better to let whatever was about to happen, happen? Or to try to fight? To at least be able to flee? 

You decide to fight when a figure appears in the corner of your vision. 

One that the two men behind you apparently do not notice. 

The knife disappears from your neck and your head is smashed into the brick instead. 

Your vision dances, Khonshu apparently only visible to you. 

“Do not worry, little bug. My Moon Knight is on his way.”

The skeletal bird you’re staring at can only be Khonshu or a terrible hallucination. 

If he’s a hallucination, does that mean they already stabbed you and you’re bleeding to death? 

“You are not hallucinating,” comes the booming voice of the god of the night sky. “Follow my instruction.” 

Khonshu, who you have no choice but to trust as your assailants argue about whether to kill you, tilts his head.

You are told to drive your right foot directly back, then twist and punch as hard as you can. 

“Then run,” is the last piece of advice before the blasted bird disappears. 

You have no choice but to follow the advice, and hope Marc or Steven really are nearby. 

When you drive your foot back, it connects with a knee. A strangled cry goes up as you twist and blindly punch. Your fist lands on something meaty, sending a shockwave up your arm. Bone cracks. 

You flee the second the hands leave your body, and you think for just a moment that you’ll get away, that you’ll make it to the deserted but well lit street at the other end of the alley. 

But fingers hook into the hood of your jacket which had fallen back off your head. You’re jerked off your feet, clotheslined jacket knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

Still you manage to scream as you fall, palms scraping against the pavement, the knee of your jeans ripping open. 

You roll, acting on pure instinct, driving your leg up into the gut of the man that falls on top of you to square a punch into your ribs. 

“You little bitch-,” 

You whip out a hand and claw his face, his friend stooping to cover your mouth as the knife appears again, shining metal gleaming by the curve of your cheek.

But something - someone - else has appeared. 

Indeed, Khonshu’s Moon Knight is stalking down the alleyway behind them. 

It gives you the determination to shove the man on top of you with all your strength, kneeing him between the legs as you go, the knife slices at your cheek as the man behind you says, “Oy! Stop struggling and-,” 

You never find out what else you should do as the other man’s weight disappears and a fluttering white cape engulfs you. 

You get to your feet shakily and when you look up, it's to meet the blinding white gaze of Marc Spector. His arm is around your waist, the cape like a blanketed cocoon against you. 

“Go to the street. I’ll come to you.” His voice is American and gruff and unexpected. 

“Marc-,” 

But he lets go of you, spins you and pushes you gently in the direction of the street.

You go, rainwater sluicing against your skin. You hear bones snap, the sound of flesh against flesh but you don’t turn or stop until you reach the street. Cars trundle by, a few pedestrians are walking further up the road. No one pays you any mind, the callousness of strangers shocking and not shocking in equal measure. 

The contrast to your fight in the alley is startling, and you feel the burn of tears at the backs of your eyes, the fingers of pressure on your throat as you hold them back.

You don’t hear anything from the alley now, but a few minutes of shivering in the rain later Marc appears, your ruined bag over his shoulder.  

He crowds close to you without a word, lifting your chin with a curled finger beneath your chin. The fabric of the suit is gauzy and warm against your skin, not damp despite the rain. He peers into your eyes, focus shifting to your cheek and then neck, before he takes your hands in both of his, and examines the broken skin of your palms. 

He makes a noise of discontent as he examines you. 

He holds your fingers so tenderly you wonder if he realizes who you are. 

“Marc?” You ask gently. “Are you okay?” 

His head snaps up but he doesn’t answer, just stares at you with that furious white gaze. 

“Could I see your face at least?” 

He hesitates, but only for a moment, before the wispy material covering his face slides away. The humidity and rain make his curls unruly, a lock of hair sticks to the sweaty skin of his forehead.

It’s Steven, and very clearly not Steven. 

You swallow, and touch his cheek. “Are you okay?” You ask again. 

You regret touching him immediately. It’s likely not something he wants from you. 

Steven would have leaned into your palm, but Marc goes still confirming your worry, his brows pulling together, eyes narrower than Steven’s rounded gaze.

You drop your hand, and Marc’s gaze follows your hand. 

Instead of answering, Marc asks, “Do you have a first aid kit at your place or do we need to go to Steven’s?” 

“I have one,” you say softly.

Marc is so very close to you, his head bent over yours. His skin is damp and glowing, eyes such a deep umber that you feel like getting lost in them. His breath falls against your lips.

You inhale sharply at the closeness, breathing in the smoky jasmine and lavender scent that lingers around him, the tang of copper just beneath. Steven smelled like tea and cotton and you wonder briefly if the fragrance is thanks to the suit. 

But then he nods, all business, the rest of the suit sliding away as he pulls away and nudges you in the direction of your flat, not taking the shortcut through the alley, of course. 

“Did you kill them?” 

Marc stiffens, responding gruffly, “No. Just some broken bones.” 

You watch his jaw clench before you carefully reach out and tangle your fingers with his again. He probably thought you thought the worst of him, that he was a cold blooded killer. “I wouldn’t have mourned if you did.” His eyes snap to yours, surprised at the brutality in your shaky voice. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” 

You smile, the movement making the cut on your cheek weep blood, “I received instructions from a rather strange looking bird.”

“Khonshu,” Marc mutters. “Bastard.” 

You hum, and feel the bizarre sensation of Marc Spector sliding his thumb gently across the back of your hand.

Once in your flat, Marc seats you at one of the two chairs at your tiny kitchen table in your tiny place’s kitchen. 

He kneels in front of you, even though he could take the other chair, and carefully tilts your chin up, dabbing gently at the cut on your neck, then your cheek.

“Did you hear me all those nights? When I spoke to you?” 

Marc nods, turning to grab an antiseptic ointment and a roll of gauze. “Yeah, I heard you.” 

“Why haven’t you-,” you bite your tongue. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. Or, talk to me. I’ve been telling myself that ever since Steven told me the truth. You’re just very important to Steven, of course I would like to meet you.” 

Marc goes still for a moment, deep brown eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, makes sense.” He finishes with your cheek and gently brushes his thumb over the column of your throat. 

You tell yourself he’s checking the bandage. 

But your heart beats wildly in your chest. 

“You’ll tell Khonshu thank you? From me? Suppose he did actually give me some helpful advice-,”

“No,” Marc suddenly says, intense in his fierceness, the set of his features grim. “Not when its his fault, my-my fault, our fucking fault you were alone in the first place-,” 

“Hey,” you take his hands and feel them shaking in yours. “It's not. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just something that happened. And I’m glad you were around.” You grip his fingers and don’t let him pull away until the tremors subside. “Are you alright?”

He clears his throat, suspiciously glassy eyes not meeting yours, and then goes about cleaning your bruised palms and your cut knuckles. 

Marc sighs abruptly, not answering you, and turns to look into the shining reflection of your floor length mirror. “Steven says he’s proud of you.” He looks away and continues wrapping your hands, “He also won’t let me forget that I haven’t asked you if you’re okay.” 

You open your mouth to reply when Marc bites out brusquely, “Are you okay?” 

You smile, imagining the irritation in Steven’s voice, Bloody hell, Marc! Telling her I’m bothering you about asking her if she’s okay and actually asking her is not the same thing!

“I’ll tell you if I’m alright, if you tell me if you are.” 

Marc snorts, “I can tell by looking at you.” His head twitches toward the mirror again and you know Steven must be annoying him about invisible injuries. You wait for a moment while they seem to have a silent conversation. 

You stop Marc’s hands when he moves to look at your knee instead of answering. “Just a simple yes or no. Nothing more.” 

He looks up at you, brows still tight over his eyes, expression stony, frowning at you so intensely you have to wonder what he sees when he looks at you. “Yes.” 

“Brilliant,” you smile. 

“Yes or no?” He asks you. 

You brace a hand on his shoulder, pushing yourself up, “Yes. I am okay. Does Steven know?”

“He hears you,” his grim gaze drifts back to the mirror. “Sit back down, I’m not done with you.” 

You pat his chest gently when he stands too, close and towering, what should be intimidating. “Yes, you are,” you return firmly. “I’m going to make some tea. Do you drink tea, or is that a Steven thing?”

“Coffee, if you have it.”

You can’t help but smile. 

“We need to wrap your knee though,” he doesn’t let the injury go. “It might get infected.”

You glance down at the scrape, then at the worried frown on Marc’s face. “Shall I change first? That way I don’t just tear the bandage anyways taking these wet jeans off.” 

Marc eyes your wet clothes, the way you shiver, head tilting to the side, like he’s listening. 

He concedes with a nod. 

~

Marc watches you make a cup of tea for yourself and hesitate at the coffeemaker. 

He thinks for a moment that you hesitate because you’re realizing that if you start the pot, you won’t only have to wait for it to brew but for Marc to drink it. 

But when you turn, you only frown at him and ask, “Are you quite sure about the coffee? You won’t sleep. I have more than enough chamomile tea-,” 

“Coffee is fine.” 

You dip your head and turn back to the pot. 

Steven sighs, “You can let her take care of you too, Marc.” 

Marc ignores Steven, refuses to meet his gaze in the shining reflection of your toaster. 

He feels the bone-deep weariness creep up on him, crash over his shoulders, as you set a cup of coffee in front of him a few quiet minutes later. 

“Steven pokes fun at me for my sugar habit. But this is a judgment free zone so don’t be afraid to tell me how you take it.” 

Marc glances into the cup, black coffee staring back up at him. 

“Sugar and milk,” he says and watches you smile, the gauze wrapped around your neck making his skin prickle. 

He should have killed those men for daring to lie a hand on you. He glances at your wet duffle bag, dejectedly lying in a heap in the corner of the kitchen. “Sorry about your stuff.” 

“It’s just things,” you say, wincing as you sit down across from him, setting down a carton of milk and bowl of sugar with a spoon.

He tips his head to the side to glance at your scraped knee under the table, the wince not matching the injury. Had he missed something? Though he supposes you’re probably sore after being thrown to the ground. 

“It’s not that,” you say, tucking your legs beneath you on the chair. “I was sore anyways. I’m always sore from dance. I have a high pain tolerance from all the years of training. Tonight wasn’t actually the worst night of my life.” 

Before he can respond, his heart sinking with your words, you continue. “That’s a neat trick though,” you fling your arms out and then around in an imitation of how he’d circled the cape around you. “Handy.” 

“It’s bulletproof. Most of the time,” he says, spooning sugar into his coffee, then a dash of milk. 

“Very handy, then.” You watch him for a moment before your fingers tangle anxiously together. “You know, I really am okay. Please don’t feel like you need to stay.”

“Marc,” Steven says, “She thinks you hate her. Open up to her just a bit, yeah?” 

“I don’t hate you,” Marc says, ignoring the exasperated goan from Steven at his blunt response. “I don’t. And I’ll stay, for a while at least. You hit your head,” he reaches out and touches the bruise forming at your temple. He should have cut off their hands for that, broken each finger, twisted the ligaments out. “You might have a concussion,” he keeps his voice as level as he can.  

You nod and swallow, “Is Steven okay? I haven’t worried him too badly, have I?” 

Marc briefly closes his eyes, hearing all over again the screams of his headmate when Khonshu told them you were in danger. The force of his worry had almost forced Marc into the backseat, but he knew he was better suited to handle whatever was happening to you. 

That he could steal himself and deal. With this, he could deal, after all the years Steven had protected Marc from himself, from memories better forgotten. 

If something had happened to you…

“He’s okay,” Marc eventually answers, opening his eyes to find you watching him worriedly. “He was very worried about you.” 

“He knows I’m okay now?”

Marc sees Steven nodding at the back of your head sympathetically. “Yeah.” He licks his lips, takes a sip of the coffee, “I can…I can bring him out if you’d rather be with him.” 

You tilt your head to the side, like you’re considering it. “It’s okay. Not that I don’t want to see Steven, I do. I just…feel very safe at the moment. Maybe something to do with the cape.” You look away and take a sip of your tea. 

Steven is smirking in the toaster’s reflection, smug in a way that grinds at Marc’s nerves. 

The pair of you make no sense to Marc. 

“You into the cape, huh?”

“Oh, only a little. I wonder if your god would give me one.” Your eyes are sparkling, you’re teasing him and it makes his chest hurt in a pleasant way. 

But there was an idea Marc could get behind. Not that Khonshu would ever acquiesce. 

When you finish your tea, Marc shuffles you to the couch, prepared to watch over you for the night. 

You lie down, your legs tucked behind his back when he sits at the end of the sofa, like he’s familiar to you. And he supposes in a way he is, that you spend almost every evening together, despite his silence, and that you know the body he lives in. 

Marc flicks through the various streaming services on your TV, resting his other hand on your knee when you won’t stop squirming. 

“Hey,” he says, thumbing at your knee but not looking at you. “I know you’re okay now. But you might not be in a couple days, when the shock wears off. Takes time sometimes for something like that to catch up to you.” He squeezes your calf. “Let us know if that happens.” 

“Are you - both of you? Either of you?” 

His heart sinks just a little. “Yeah. Either. Both.” 

“Aw, Marc, I knew you liked her! I knew it!” Steven’s hands are folded over his heart, eyes wide and round. “Go on and kiss her!”

He will not be doing that. Knows that you wouldn’t welcome that. 

Instead he massages the flesh of your leg, and says, “Heat can help with muscle soreness. Do you have a heat pack somewhere?”

You turn on your back and put your feet in his lap, “Maybe. I’m okay like this for now.” You pull a blanket off the back of the sofa and drape it over both of you. 

He cups a hand around your socked ankle and says, “Don’t fall asleep.” He traces the delicate knob of bone beneath his touch. 

“Don’t think I could if I tried.” You go quiet for a moment, then say, “For the record, thank you. I’m really glad you’re staying with me.” 

The feeling that wells up in his chest almost chokes him. Marc can only nod, and even Steven stays silent for once at the wave of emotion that crashes through them both.

Dyed Hair Disaster

STEVEN GRANT X READER , MARC SPECTOR X READER , JAKE LOCKLEY X READER

prompt : the moon knight boys laugh at you and your horrible attempt at dyeing your hair

hi hi it’s me again, this idea popped in my head when i was out shopping and thought of buying some boxed hair dye and then went “nope im gonna mess it up and people are gonna laugh at me.” ENJOY!!

likes and reblogs appreciated as always <3

word count : 1,391

warnings : none, this is crack and just funsies all around.

masterlist

It starts as any normal Monday. Steven is the one to wake up this morning since he has the morning shift at the museum. Before, Steven would not have been so excited to get to work. All he did was restock stupid merchandise and stand behind a counter all day after all. But recently, Jake had done…something to Donna that made her change her mind and gave him the tourist job. He won’t question it, he’s just happy to not have to look at those horrific items anymore.

Steven feels around beside him trying to look for your warm embrace so he can cling to you like a baby koala but frowns when he doesn’t find you anywhere. The man blearily opens his eyes, squinting as he adjusts to the glaring light coming from the window. You must already be awake now if the window is open, that is unless Marc had left it open when he came home from patrol but Steven knew Marc would never be that careless.

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Love this

Keep The Secret?

MAINLY JAKE LOCKLEY X GN READER , SOME MARC SPECTOR AND STEVEN GRANT X GN READER

prompt : marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who’s willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it’s jake.)

i finally finished this and it ended up a lot longer than i had planned but i’m pretty okay with it, so, enjoy!

likes and reblogs appreciated, also leave me requests cause im running out of ideas!!

warnings(?) : fluff. maybe angst? but mostly fluff. my knowledge on DID is very limited but im hoping i didn’t mess anything up and if i did, feel free to message me about it!!

word count : 2,705

masterlist

Here you are, preparing all of your boyfriends’ pills for them cause they’re too tired to get out of bed. Someone had coughed on Steven while on his way to the museum and now they’re sick with a sweltering hot fever  and a horrid cough. They were constantly switching with each other because neither of them wanted to deal with the sickness and while yes, being sick without fronting is still being sick, it is still much better than actually having to experience a sick body. Sometimes you wonder why or how you had fallen in love with these two idiots.

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The Super Soldier Who Loved Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky is concerned that he’s not as romantic as the men in the period dramas that Reader loves.

A/N: This piece is purely self-indulgent and all I can say is that I need Sebastian Stan to be cast in a period drama so I can see him in a puffy shirt. Also Bucky being so soft for reader has my whole heart.

“Oh my god, Buck, this is it! This is my favourite bit!” You said excitedly, slapping his knee repeatedly.

Bucky chuckled at how cute you were before looking up at the screen to come face to face with someone he’d soon deem to be his rival: Anthony Bridgerton.

“And it is not far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough, to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honour; but that honour is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.

You are the bane of my existence…

And the object of all my desires.”

Religiously, you recited the words with Anthony and then dramatically flopped your head into Bucky’s lap. Your boyfriend smiled at you throughout your Oscar-winning performance and began stroking your hair as your eyes were glued to the screen.

“Isn’t that just… ugh. It’s amazing. If I was Kate I’d have collapsed.” You reviewed, squeezing the remote and humming contentedly at Bucky brushing his fingers through your hair.

Bucky frowned, looking up at the screen again. In all seriousness, he hadn’t really been paying attention to Bridgerton. He had returned from a three week long mission in Mexico in the early hours of that morning. There was barely any time for sleep as he was too excited to see you. He had got into bed and cuddled into you, eager for you to wake up and see he was there. When you did eventually waken, you had pinned him down and pressed kisses all over his face. After ensuring he was unharmed and didn’t have any wounds you needed to tend to, you spent hours talking; catching up on what had happened on the mission and informing him of the latest gossip in the compound.

After the late night and lack of sleep, a lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch with his best girl as she watched her comfort show seemed perfect to Bucky. That was, until Anthony Bridgerton reminded him of his incompetence.

Bucky thought it was so endearing and adorable that you loved period dramas and romance. You were such a thoughtful and kind girlfriend. He’d never felt so loved, even back in the 40s when his family were still alive; even by Steve who had risked everything to save him. You had always been different; you were gentle and always knew exactly what to say. It meant that when you did melt at the words of men in your beloved period dramas, Bucky felt a twang of pain that he didn’t have the same vocabulary or eloquence.

When you had made him watch Jane Eyre, he’d clenched his jaw at Mr Rochester as though he was facing up to a Hydra agent when he said: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you, as if i had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. and if you were to leave, i'm afraid that cord of communion would snap.”

Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice was not much better as he confessed his love with: “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love - I love - I love you.” This had Bucky staring at the screen in wide-eyed disbelief that someone could actually formulate those words in their head. Meanwhile, you were cuddled up to him on the verge of sobbing and saying “isn’t that beautiful?”

He had almost sympathised with Mr Knightley when he explained to Emma “maybe if I loved you less, I could talk about it more.” Bucky had related to that one as this is what he felt about you. Finally, one of these idyllic and charming men understood him.

That was until he remembered how you had squealed earlier in the film when Mr Knightley was so overcome with his love for Emma that he’d stripped himself of his jacket and threw himself on the floor in frustration. You had slapped Bucky’s chest at this point with a “how gorgeous is that scene?” Bucky had concluded based on that, Mr Knightley was not on his side.

He almost felt like he was wasting your time. Bucky was far from the romantic, puffy shirt wearing gentleman who had a gorgeous grasp on the English language that you loved so much.

Bucky looked down at you and tickled the back of your neck a little, wishing he could be better. You giggled and shuffled to reposition yourself on his lap, completely oblivious as to how nervous and insecure Bucky was feeling.

*

“Of course Y/N loves period dramas! She is dating a 106 year old!” Sam laughed hysterically. “The girl has a type, man.”

Bucky grimaced at Sam’s remark. “Yeah but I’m not like them. I love her so much but I don’t know how to say it the way they do.”

Sam shook his head and handed his friend a coffee. “Buck, no one does. We don’t speak Shakespeare nowadays.”

Bucky sipped his coffee thoughtfully, digesting what Sam’s words. Whilst Sam was right, Bucky couldn’t help shake the feeling that he wasn’t romantic enough for you. It had been plaguing his mind that week ever since you’d watched it on Sunday. You had left for a mission on Monday morning and his brain had been doing overtime trying to think of ways to improve his romance game.

“Anyway, I don’t think anyone actually did speak like that in those days. It’s a made up story, Buck. Just dig out your old war uniform and show her a good time that way.” Sam playfully winked and Bucky let out a bashful chuckle.

“I think she is more into the puffy shirts kinda thing.” Bucky responded, anxiously playing with his fingers. “Help me out, she comes back from her mission tonight and I want to surprise her with at least something.”

Before Sam could offer any suggestions, he was cut off by Peter, who had been sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in a book and listening to music.

“I’m studying Shakespeare in English class right now! I can give you a sonnet to read to her.” Peter smiled, taking his headphones off. Sam and Bucky had assumed he wasn’t paying attention to their conversation but were pleasantly surprised to hear that he was.

Sam folded his arms and looked at Peter for a minute. “You know I think the little spider freak is right.”

“Spider-Man.” Peter corrected.

Bucky thought it over, looking between Sam and Peter. He wanted to show you that he could be romantic the way you needed him to be. Whilst the thought of reading out a Shakespeare sonnet made him feel extremely uncomfortable, the possibility of you reacting to him the way you did for your beloved characters was all the motivation he needed.

“Okay, fine. What have you got, kid?” Bucky asked eventually. Peter frantically looked through the papers on the table and landed on one that was decorated with highlighting, scribbling and notes.

Bucky reluctantly took the sonnet and read it over, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration.

“Look at that cyborg brain go. Taking in all that data?” Sam joked, slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Remember when you read it out to her, you need to show that emotion and passion, that’s what she’ll want.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a frown. “Got it.”

*

Bucky smoothed down the puffy shirt he’d bought for the occasion with his vibranium hand. He wanted to dress the part while he read out the sonnet and give you the full experience you had no doubt dreamed of. However, he did think it wise to not share this part of the plan with Sam otherwise he’d never have heard the end of it. The shirt felt a little gratuitous but he was sure you would like it and that was all that mattered.

The super soldier was shaking with anxiety. He could go into dangerous missions stealthily and unfazed. But his nerves were getting the better of him now as he recited the sonnet once more under his breath. Desperately, he tried to inject some passion into his performance but he couldn’t relate to the words in front of him. They weren’t nearly as special enough for you. He cringed at the words but continued to try and memorise them nonetheless.

When you got back to the compound, you wasted no time in rushing upstairs to Bucky’s room. You opened the door, slung your duffel bag off your shoulder and started to remove your tactical jacket before freezing at the sight of Bucky in a puffy shirt. Perhaps you were tired from the mission or just jet lagged but you didn’t question his attire. Instead, you enjoyed the view of your tough super soldier boyfriend wearing one of those romantic and gorgeous shirts that clung to his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Baby, I have to say I have dreamed about you wearing one of those shirts but now I’ve seen it in person… wow.” You took him in for a second before hungrily stalking over and tugging at the shirt. “This was a lovely surprise to come home from a mission to.”

Bucky looked down at what you were doing and moved your hands away, chuckling at you.

“We can do that later, Doll. There’s something I want to say first.”

“Okay, I’m all ears.” It wasn’t until this point that you noticed he was nervous and holding paper in his hand. Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and manoeuvred you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed and he was standing facing you.

You folded your arms and raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. Bucky inhaled deeply and stared down at the paper. Eventually, he scrunched the paper up and stuck it in the pocket of his trousers. You deserved better than someone else’s words. You deserved him to at least try and use his own.

“Okay, Doll, so the thing is, I know you love it in those period dramas when the hero-“

“I wouldn’t exactly call Anthony Bridgerton a hero, babe.”

“Well, okay, when the main guy makes this grand romantic gesture or speech to a woman. And all I can say is that I don’t know how to use flowery language or where to start with making big gestures. What I do know is that you’re my hero. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever have hoped for, you make me feel so loved and so safe. I love that you play with my hair when I’m anxious. I love that you take care of me when I have a panic attack or a nightmare. I love that you leave me little notes and that you give me gentle kisses all the time. I love you, Y/N. And I wish I was better with the pretty words or the expression of love but I just want you to know I’m trying to be better, for you. All I want to do is make you feel as happy and safe as you make me feel.”

The words replayed over and over in your head as you stared up at your boyfriend who was now shaking like a leaf after pouring his heart out. Yes, it didn’t have the same gallant polish as Anthony Bridgerton or Edward Rochester or Fitzwilliam Darcy; but you didn’t care. Despite what Bucky had thought, he’d actually done the big gesture he had deemed himself incapable of. He had taken something so dear and important to you and paid respect to it by wearing the shirt and trying to deliver a romantic speech to make you happy. It was perfect, truly perfect.

The gesture rendered you speechless which didn’t help Bucky’s nerves. He was quivering, waiting for your response until you got up from your spot and wrapped your arms round his neck, pulling him close. He concluded that this meant you were happy with his speech and started to feel secure again, slowly putting his hands on your waist to ground himself. He buried his head into your neck and pressed some light kisses to your soft skin.

“That was beautiful, Bucky, thank you.” You whispered and kissed the side of his head repeatedly. “You’re more of a romantic than you thought.”

“You think so?” He hummed against your neck, taking in your scent that he’d missed while you were away.

“I know so.” You asserted. “That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grin and feel proud of himself. He squeezed your waist and pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging little circles in all the spots on his scalp that you knew brought him comfort. Both of you absorbed the moment, slightly swaying from side to side, exchanging I love you’s and other sweet nothings.

“Now,” you chuckled after a couple of minutes and grasped a handful of the material of the shirt at Bucky’s back. “As much as I love this on you, I want it off.”

Fuck I am melting

Cold Shoulder {2} || mafia!Bucky

Summary: Your world is turned upside down overnight and the only way to get through it is with you and Bucky supporting each other. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, oral (both), unprotected sex, angst, cancer (not main character), tattoos, fluff WC: 3679

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || Part One

A/N: This has combined the 3 requests below

You were writhing on the leather seat, or at least trying to with Bucky’s hands pinning your hips down and his elbows holding your legs open. His name fell from your lips as you gripped his hair tight and even in the dark limo you could see his eyes glowing like twin blue flames that threatened to burn you with their intensity. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, his tongue doing dangerous things to your sanity, and your head fell back with a cry as he wrought another orgasm from your body.

You pounced on him the second he loosened his hold to wipe your arousal from his chin and surprise flittered quickly across his face as he let you push him flat on his back along the narrow floorspace, straddling his thighs as you worked his belt and zip open.

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This shit is perfection

Hey lovey ! I hope you’re well 🥰

So , I’ve had this thought for a while now . Fake dating to lovers with mafia!Bucky . Bucky needs a date to an event so a mutual friend of yours asks you to accompany him . You’re shy and smiley compared to his big , grumpy personality. In the beginning of the night Bucky is cold , not even looking at you in the car ride while you try to make small talk and he gives you one word answers. You’re hurt but still try and make it look like you’re his girlfriend . As the night goes by , Bucky truly sees you . Your bright smile and sincere eyes , how genuinely sweet and kind you are . He slowly starts falling for you . So he starts making small moves . Putting his hand behind your chair and stroking your shoulder startling you . Putting his hand behind your neck while he’s talking with someone , making you look up at him with doe eyes , which makes him give you a small grin and kiss your forehead while gently massaging your nape . Pushing hair out of your face while you talk , making you stop mid sentence and shrugging his jacket to drape it over your shoulders when he sees you shiver.

Cold Shoulder || Mafia!Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, almost handjob in a public place, vaginal fingering. WC: 2650

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two

When Steve asked you for help you weren’t quite sure what you expected, it could have been anything from moving house to finding out what flowers to get a girl he fancied. That would have been easier than going on a fake date with one of his other friends ‘Bucky’. If the man was as great as Steve said he was, surely he could have found his own girlfriend instead of having to ask you.

You had already agreed to help before you knew the details, so there you were dressed to the nines for a fancy party in a country club you couldn’t even pronounce. You had been told 8pm on the dot and as the clock in your hallway began to ring its hourly toll a knock sounded at your front door. Steve had described Bucky as tall, dark haired and handsome but the man in front of you was the complete opposite.

“Can I help you?” You asked after the initial shock wore off.

“I’m here to collect a Miss Y/N, for Mr Barnes.” He said politely, almost bowing.

“Oh, where is Mr Barnes?” You frowned as you looked at the blacked out limo parked along the curb. “Too good to get out of the car?”

“Mr Barnes is a busy man.” The driver said diplomatically. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m sure.” You said with a tight lipped smile and grabbed your clutch before locking the door.

The driver walked ahead of you, opening the limo door and waiting for you to slide into the seat before closing it and speed walking all the way to the front. The man sitting perpendicular to you was definitely Bucky, an air of egotistical authority that might as well have had a neon sign spelling it out. You waited a moment, expecting him to look up and greet you but he continued to type away on his phone as if he couldn’t see you at all.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” You broke the silence, his ice blue eyes peeling away from the device long enough to appreciate the long slit up your freshly shaven legs before flicking back to the phone.

“You too.”

You rode in silence as the city apartments gave way to brownstones then eventually gated mansions. The perfectly manicured grass of the country club came into view under hundreds of strung lights and you looked ahead at the long winding driveway that separated the golf course from the club. Bucky’s fingers finally stopped typing and you watched the way he twirled his signet ring around his finger and you assumed it was a nervous habit but it looked far too sexy on him.

“Is there anything I should know before we get out there?” You asked as the car stopped under the porte-cochere, the valet already making his way to open the door.

“No.” His answer was clipped yet again as he pocketed his phone and moved to the seat next to you. “Just don’t embarrass me.”

If it wasn’t for Steve being such a good friend to you almost all your life you would have just stayed in the car and asked the driver to take you home, instead you just smiled as the door opened and accepted the gloved hand of the valet. You could feel Bucky’s stare on your ass as you stepped out of the limo, the flash of cameras nearly blinding you in addition to surprising you.

Bucky stepped out as gracefully as you would expect of a man who enjoyed the finer things in life, it was almost hard to peg him as the leader of crime syndicate when he looked like every other old money upper class man. His arm curled around your waist as he smiled for the photographers, your own smile shining bright before he led you through the entrance, dropping his arm in an instant. The cool exterior fell back into place and you turned your focus to the opulent decorations that adorned the grand hall.

Everything was over the top, from the ice sculptures of the New York skyline to the seven foot high champagne fountain that only a few of the taller men, including Bucky, could even reach without causing a catastrophe. You looked longingly at the bar but you stuck by Bucky’s side like a dutiful girlfriend would, chatting politely to other women who accompanied the men Bucky spoke to - wondering just how many of them were real or fake girlfriends too.

A few times you caught side glances from Bucky as he tuned into your conversations and compliments, a small smile curving his lips as you expertly deflected questions away about your ‘relationship’ without actually answering them. The more you spoke the more he seemed to pay attention to both you and the information Steve had given him. Bucky hadn’t believed what Steve had told him, no single woman could possibly tick all his boxes, but he had to admit his best friend was right. Aside from being beautiful, which he had noticed the moment you opened your front door, you had a kind smile that reached your eyes, a quick wit and Steve promised you knew the rules of the criminal underworld.

You almost jumped out of your skin when Bucky’s arm curled around your waist and your hand came to rest on his chest, mindlessly playing with his button as you tried to remember what the older woman in front of you was saying. Her eyes darted between you and Bucky, her smile intensifying as his hand drifted down your back and she took her leave with a knowing look. A look that said ‘I’ll leave you kids to it’.

“Was I not selling it?” You asked as you turned to face him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you spoke quietly in his ear, looking like any other loved up couple.

“What do you mean?” He asked as his hands locked behind your back, softly swaying to the music the live band was playing further in.

“I almost got frostbite from your cold shoulder.” You said as you rested your cheek on his shoulder and looked up under your lashes, inhaling the unique scent of him mixed with the rich cologne he wore.

“I kinda was a jerk, wasn’t I?” He chuckled quietly and you knew that was the closest you would be getting to an apology from him, honestly it was more than you expected. “I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

His smile sent your tummy into a somersault and you wondered if he was normally this charming or if it was just for you, in the end you decided it didn’t matter, you were just going to enjoy it. He unhooked your arms and kept one hand in his as he made his way to the bar you had been eyeing up and ordered your favourite drink as you frowned.

“Steve gave me a few tips.” He smirked as he took the glasses to the table front and centre of the event.

“I should have known you wouldn’t be above insider trading.” You teased as you took your seat and relaxed as his arm came to rest along the back.

He leant in close as the rest of the seats quickly filled and the music came to a stop, his lips brushing your cheek as he whispered. “There’s only one thing I want to be above.”

Your face flushed and you dipped your head down so he couldn’t see the effect he was having on you, your pupils dilating and lips parted at the sharp intake of oxygen. Your senses were on high alert and you froze as his cool fingers touched your heated cheek before brushing a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. You turned slowly, keeping your cheek to his fingers and relishing the cold touch of his digits, until you found his eyes in a heated stare at your lips.

“Hey Barnes?” You asked as your tongue moistened your lips and he bit his own, stifling a quiet groan. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

His hand laced into your updo, probably ruining the styling you had spent a long time achieving but you couldn’t care less as he drew you in closer. His kiss was the embodiment of who he was, it was hard and controlled, passionate and downright criminal. You could barely think, barely remember how to breathe when he pulled away and you saw his eyes wide and wild, ready for more.

Bucky looked at the Rolex on his wrist and groaned as he saw they were needed to make nice and shake hands at the event a little while longer, but all he wanted was to drag you back to the limo and roll up the blackout privacy partition. He had been given a window of heaven and now he wanted you to spread those pearly gates nice and wide for him, and you were absolutely willing. Your hand slipped under the table cloth and came to rest on Bucky’s thigh, slowly inching closer as he draped his napkin over his lap to hide where you were going.

“Steve didn’t mention this.” He said as he shifted in chair and returned his lips to your ears. “He assured me that you were a good girl.”

“I can be good, and I can be bad.” You answered with a sly smile as your palm reached the spot where his trousers were straining to contain his erection, pausing as you teased him. “Which would you like?”

“Bad, definitely bad.” He all but growled before placing his hand over the napkin and pushing your palm along his covered shaft, letting you feel just how long and hard he was for you. “It’s so much better when it's bad.”

Just as your fingers reached for his zip you heard Bucky’s name being called and froze as a stranger pulled his attention away. It was frightening to see an angry scowl fall over his face so quickly but he had just been interrupted on his way to a handjob. Thank god for the dim lights and his tailored suit, they were working overtime to hide the massive bulge that threatened to tear the material at the seams. You thought his reception to you was cold but it paled in comparison to this man’s as he whispered something in Bucky’s ear that he didn’t like. He was quick to recover from the news and held his hand out to you, deciding it was worth the introduction.

“Detective Wilson, this is my girlfriend, Y/n.” Bucky said as he laid his large palm over your nape, gently massaging the tension that the evening had created before placing a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nice to meet you, Detective.” You said as you shook his hand, remembering your manners after the shock of Bucky’s affection.

“You too, and please call me Sam.” He smiled genuinely and lightly punched Bucky’s shoulder. “Look at you big dog, finally got a girl. Goodluck dealing with his grumpy ass everyday.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” Bucky said as he rolled his eyes. “What do I even pay you to do?”

“Look good for starters.” Sam winked, testing to see how serious Bucky was and given the way he pulled you closer to his side showed some serious possessiveness he hadn’t seen before. “I’m playing, boss, don’t start pouring concrete in my boots yet.”

The thought seemed to pass Bucky’s mind and Sam gave a quick wave as he backed away, his tan leather coat lifting enough to see the gun in a holster at his hip.

“He seems too nice to be a dirty cop.” You mentioned as you looked back at the retreating figure, a fond smile playing on your lips.

“Looks can be deceiving, after all, I thought you were too nice to be dirty and you surprised me.” He checked his watch again and the scowl returned as time seemed to be ticking by too slowly. He could control a lot of things in the city but time was not one of them, so with a huff he pushed your seat in as you sat down and joined you once again. “An hour, doll, then we can cut out early.”

You smiled sweetly as you batted your eyelashes at him with innocent charm. “And go where?”

He almost bit straight through his lip as he looked at your doe eyes, the beautiful sight doing things to him a man of his sexual experience shouldn’t do - like damn near cream in his expensive suit for one. Grabbing his phone from his pocket he fired off a quick email to the event coordinator promising a large donation to the charity, his way of apologising for missing the main event. His fingers were like lightning and in seconds the email was sent and he was standing, his chair nearly tipping over with how fast he moved.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked needlessly as he held his hand out, his thick rings looking cool and inviting.

You placed your hand in his and giggled as he pulled you swiftly to your feet and off towards the exit. You could hear an announcer just getting started as you broke out into the evening air and shivered. The valet hadn’t expected anyone to leave so soon and he rushed out of the station to call Bucky’s driver around while you rubbed your arms furiously.

“Here.” Bucky said as he draped his warm suit jacket over your shoulders and you inhaled the scent you were quickly becoming addicted to.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you turned and rose on your tiptoes so you could give him a quick kiss but he had other ideas.

He stole your breath away as he wrapped you in his arms and shared even more of his warmth with you until his driver arrived with the promise of a warm dark space and a long drive ahead. Bucky didn’t even wait for the valet to reach them, opening the door for you himself before following you in and hitting the button for the partition, the dark glass slowly rising.

“Home, Coulson.”

You assumed he heard Bucky before the glass sealed shut and your tummy was back to somersaulting as Bucky’s hand rose up your thigh, brushing along the high slit as a very different shiver chased his touch.

“You know if we do this, I will make you mine.” He promised as his fingers brushed the lace edge of your panties and you nodded, you knew the rules. “No one will be allowed to touch what’s mine.”

“I know.” You moaned as he pushed the lace aside and ran a finger through your slick folds. “I know how the Cosa Nostra works.”

“You know what Steve let you see.” He countered, his slow strokes enough to distract you but not make your mind numb.

“Steve also thinks I am innocent.” You countered as you wrapped your hand around his wrist and pushed his fingers deeper into your sopping cunt. “And I think we can both agree that is not the case.”

A quiet curse exhaled with Bucky’s breath and the control he had on himself was slipping, he had already slipped up by introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend. Sam wasn’t one of the businessmen he was trying to distract by having a pretty piece on his arm, there was no reason to keep the charade up when he came. Still, Bucky had practically announced his claim on you to the underworld already, knowing Sam would be telling everyone he met about you.

“Fuck it.” He growled before his lips crashed against yours and your hands laced in his hair, greedy for more.

Click here for part two.

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I was pushing back watching the last episode of moon knight I watched it just to read this and I do not regret it one bit

Gods and Men || Jake Lockley

Summary: You are an avatar and find yourself pulled towards a man who shares the same power as you do.  Warnings: 18+ only, violence, unprotected sex, sassy reader WC: 2.6k

To some Konshu is ancient but to others, like Iah, he is still an infant. Iah was the god of the moon long before Konshu was given life and his power infinitely greater, until he decided to retire with the other old gods of Egypt and let the next generation take reign. His spirit would still be resting in the dark side of the moon if it weren’t for the terrible tour guide letting you wander off from the group. You had stumbled across Iah’s physical body’s resting place and accidentally became his avatar when you touched his amulet.

“Find Konshu. He can put me back to sleep.”

“That’s all well and good but there’s 7 billion people on this planet now, how am I meant to find his avatar?” You groaned as you looked at Iah for answers.

“He may be weaker but he still holds the power of the moon. Feel its pull, like the tide, let it carry you to him.”

You rolled your eyes before closing them and spreading your arms wide, feeling Iah’s power rush through you. You could feel the oceans and seas, the rise and the fall of the tides. You could feel the moon itself waning in its cycle, the sun’s shadow cooling its surface as the earth eclipsed it. Then you felt it, a sensation of magnetism that was neither tide nor moon but something else entirely.

Keep reading

A Correspondence of Obligation - Prologue

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: A little angsty but really nothing!!

a/n: Here we goooo!! So so excited to get this series started :))

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

~~

My Princess, 

When you refuse to reply to my letters, it only makes me yearn for your words more. I wonder how your penmanship would look on the parchment from your stationary, how your seal would look stamped on the envelope. I wonder how to become deserving of you. 

Is there a method to this madness you put me through? 

Keep reading

This is basically just p*rn

I LOVE IT

Two Minds, One Body || Mafia!Bucky [pt4]

Mafia!Bucky x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: It's Bucky/Winter's birthday 🥳 but there always has to be some drama... Warnings: 18+ only, kind of public sex (its a public place but no one is around), edging, more smut, possessive Winter, oral both, toys: vibrator, buttplug WC: 2.9k

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

You were lucky Bucky was a patient man as he waited in the car for you. You still couldn’t decide what dress you wanted to wear and you held them both up against you in the mirrored dressing room. Trying one on again, you took a photo and sent it to Bucky since it would be his birthday you would be wearing it to. You saw the message turn to read and after a moment where no response came you sighed and reached for the zip.

Knock, knock. “Doll.”

You forgot the zip and unlocked the door, stepping back as Bucky quickly slipped in and locked it behind him. Your breathing hitched as you saw the lust in his eyes and he bit his lip as he looked over your body. “Do you like it?”

You gave him a spin and smirked when he caught you by the hips, pulling you against his body so you could feel just how much he liked it. “I’d like it even more on the floor.”

His hand trailed down your spine, taking the zip with it and he slipped the sleeves over your shoulder. The cool air of the boutique store would have left you shivering if it wasn’t for the fire Bucky was lighting across your skin. Your fingers had already opened the first buttons of his dress shirt before your brain clicked in and you froze.

“We can’t have sex here.” You whispered in his ear. “There’s people just outside.”

“You think I would let anyone else hear how beautiful you sound when you cum?” His dark chuckle washed over you and his smirk teased you as much as his fingers that were dipping into your panties. “I sent everyone away. You looked so sexy in that photo, just had to have you.”

You giggled at his neediness and he spun you around to lean your hands against the mirror. There was no wasting any time with Bucky today it seemed, he quickly pulled your panties down your legs and nudged them wider before he teased your slit with his blunt head. Your eyes connected through the mirror and your lips parted as he pushed past your entrance with a satisfied moan. He truly was insatiable, between him and Winter taking their turns with you it was a miracle you could still walk.

Your breath misted up the glass as Bucky gripped your hips and set a quick pace. If you had any thoughts you would have felt sorry for the person who would have to clean the fog of your breath and your fingerprints off the glass when you were done, but Bucky was erasing all your capacity to think as he fucked you senseless.

Bucky thumb and index finger teased your nipple and you cried out at the sudden pinch he gave you, your cunt tightening, before he soothed it once again as he chuckled in your ear. “Oh? You like that, babygirl.”

“God, yes…”

You could feel your orgasm building and so could Bucky, his hand running down your stomach to the juncture of your thighs. You looked down at the reflection and watched as he spread your lips and circled your clit, quickly bringing you to the edge of bliss before he pulled out. You whimpered at the loss of both the fullness and the orgasm you were within reach of.

“Bucky, please.” You begged as you watched him force his erection back into his pants and wink at you.

“Come on, doll, we have places to be.” He chuckled as he walked out of the dressing room. “Oh, and get both dresses, you’ll need a spare.”

You didn’t know what he meant by that but you did as he told. After getting dressed and resisting the urge to finish yourself off, you gathered up the dresses and found the staff returning to the shop floor. You didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, not when you saw the way the cashier was eyeing Bucky up at the front window.

“I’ll have these.” You said as you pulled out your purse.

“No need.” She said as she pushed your card away. “Mr Barnes owns this store.”

You tucked the purse away and caught the sly smile one Bucky’s face as he walked back and carried the garment bags for you. “When you said you owned half of Brooklyn, I thought you were exaggerating, like men and the size of their penises.”

“I don’t have to exaggerate.” He laughed as he opened the door for you before going around to the other side. “On either account.”

You headed back to the townhouse instead of travelling back upstate, since Bucky’s birthday party was going to be at a local event space, and you watched with amusement as Bucky closed the door to the walk-in wardrobe behind you. “Come to tease me again?”

He had watched you squirm on your seat the whole drive home, every bump leaving you a little breathless. “Maybe. It’s my birthday so I can have my gift unwrapped as many times as I please.”

His fingers tipped your chin back so he could steal a kiss from your lips that were pouting at the idea of being edged again. Thankfully, you knew how to drive him as crazy as he did you. You dropped to your knees and pulled his cock free to see the thick beads of precum leaking from his angry red tip. You flicked your tongue over the little slit and hummed at his taste, each kitten lick jerked his body and you could see his patience wearing thin.

“It’s not nice when you don’t get to cum, isn’t it?” You asked innocently as you stroked him slowly, painfully so.

The glaze in his eyes was gone and his focus was on the teasing smile you held and he smirked as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You want me to fuck you, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to make you cum all over my cock?”

“God, yes…please.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle as you turned to putty as his feet. “Ok, but then you have to wear the gift I got you tonight.”

You would sell your soul for him to just give you the release you needed. “Anything.”

He walked around you and pushed you onto all fours, his hands massaging your ass and teasing your dripping hole with his thumb. After tasting your nectar from his thumb he hummed and thrust his hips forward, filling you as you pushed yourself back to meet him. There was no way you were missing out on another orgasm and you reached between your legs and let your fingers glide over your bundle of nerves.

“Someone’s a bit greedy.” He teased with a spank as he felt your fingers against his shaft. “Go on, baby, wanna feel you cum.”

Your back arched as you chased your own release and your legs tried to close shut around Bucky until they began to tremble. Your moans filled the small room and the hands on your hips gripped you tighter so Bucky could ram himself as fast as possible, the loud slaps of your skin filling your ears.

“B-bucky, I’m, oh god…” Your words were lost as white hot flashes of light blinded you and your core clamped down around him, milking him as he released himself inside you.

“Holy fuck.” He panted as his hips continued to jerk and you felt the most full you ever had, his cum leaking out and down your legs as he watched it rolling down. “Look at that beautiful mess.”

═══════☆═══════

The party was in full swing and businessmen and women from all over the world had accepted the invitation to Bucky’s birthday. You knew the majority of the people around you were criminals of one kind or another but you couldn’t tell them apart from the straight-laced business owners who mingled among them. The politicians you could spot a mile away, their seedy nature sending you in the opposite direction, which is how you ended up near the pool table. Your glances kept returning to the table but there was no one else playing, just people using it as a drink holder.

“Such a longing stare, should I be jealous of someone?” Bucky asked quietly in your ear, just above the music, as his hands came to rest on your hips.

“You’ve set my standards too high now, there’s no one that could make you jealous.” You promised as you turned in his arms. “It’s been a long time since I played pool, do you play?”

“Not since I found a better way to spend my time.” He smirked before taking your hand and leading you over, the people grabbing their drinks as Bucky took two cues from the holder. “Ladies first.”

You took your pick of the cue and chalked it up before walking around to the head of the table and lining up the break. The cue warmed your fingers as you pushed and pulled, readying your shot before you dropped your head and bit your lip to stifle the moan. When the sensation passed you shot daggers at Bucky, his phone in hand and ready to set off another vibration in your core. When he said to wear the gift he bought you, you thought he meant the dress. You were sorely mistaken.

“Take the shot, doll.” He teased as he lowered the settings but left it running.

You took a deep breath and rushed the shot, balls exploding in all directions but a large sinking into the corner. He slipped his phone away to clap at the shot and more people turned to watch the game unfold and you watched with intrigue as his tongue peeked out in concentration and one eye slightly closed as he lined it up. He had played you once again, he was more than just an amateur and nearly sunk all his balls before missing one and returning back to the side.

You already anticipated what came next once he pulled his phone from his pocket and you felt as if the entire club was watching you teeter on the edge of an orgasm - and then it was gone. You sagged with relief and took your shot, sinking three before missing a shot. You retreated to a wall so you had something to lean on as your legs trembled and you felt your arousal running down your thighs.

A warm body pressed against you and for a split second you thought it strange that Bucky had missed his shot so soon but you found a stranger with a bitter cologne in your face. The man had obviously been drinking as it was strong on his breath that you tried to recoil from, your head turning away and locking eyes with Winter. The room seemed to hold their breath collectively as Winter stalked his way over, cue in hand.

Winter glared daggers as he splintered the cue on the man's back and tore him away from you. “No one touches my kukolka.”

His possessiveness was more electric than the vibrator and the start of a moan sneaked past your lips before you could stop it, the sound instantly catching Winter’s attention. His head snapped to you and he looked torn between wanting to destroy the man that touched you and wanting to touch you himself. Snapping his head to Nico, he shoved the man his way and Nico clearly understood the assignment as he began pulling the stranger towards the back exit where some of the guards' cars were waiting. You knew he would pay for his transgression later but for now, Winter had better things to do.

“You don’t want to finish the game?” You gasped as he pinned you to the wall and wiped the memory of the last two minutes with one heated gaze.

“I want to play with you.” He growled in your ear as his teeth grazed over your racing pulse. He nipped the skin and chuckled as you jumped, your body rubbing against his and feeling how hard he was for you.

You looked around and found the attention had returned to the band playing and whatever else the people were up to before the short disturbance. Grabbing Winter’s hand you made your way to the dark service alley and a restricted area before he pulled you to a stop and ran his hands over the soft material of your dress.

“I’m gonna leave my marks all over you, kukolka, so no one forgets who you belong to.” He promised as his lips kissed your collarbone before sucking on the delicate skin.

Your fingers buried themselves in his dark hair and you held him to your chest, the love bites leading their way down your plunging neckline until he reached the bust. His hands pulled up your dress as he dropped to his knees and you lost contact with his hair as he disappeared under your dress. You gasped and threw your hands back to the wall for balance as he pulled you leg over his shoulder and kissed your clit.

If anyone were to walk in they would see your dress puffed out, and a bit lumpy, and the peek of red bottomed mens dress shoes beneath the hem. They would also see your face painted with ecstasy, his marks against your neck, your jaw hung in suspense as his tongue lashed across your swollen pearl and his fingers gently tugged the tail of the purple silicone love egg Bucky had put in you. The vibrating increased and you gripped the material across your stomach as if you could stop your body jerking in response.

“Win, please, I need to cum.” You begged as the overstimulation left your body twitching and trembling.

You felt him chuckle against your clit and you shivered at the added vibration before he sucked it between his lips. You could feel the liquid running down your thighs, more escaping every time he moved the egg, and he hummed greedily as he pulled away and licked the rivulets clean. Suddenly the vibrations turned to what you could only hope was the maximum setting because you could not take anymore. You cried out and if it wasn’t for Winter holding you you would have collapsed as your orgasm crashed over you.

“Clench, kukolka.” Winter ordered and you couldn’t not clench if you tried, your pussy was holding tight to the egg that was still buzzing inside you.

Winter’s fingers grabbed the tail and he pulled it, fighting your body to keep it in your cunt but he won, the vibrator coming free, your juices flowing down your legs. You sagged with relief as the stimulation was gone but your head was still spinning as Winter emerged from your dress with a proud grin and a glistening chin.

“I can’t go back out in this.” You murmured as you felt the back of the dress damp where it clung to your legs.

Winter took your hand and wove deeper through the service alley to a private room and you found the second dress hanging in the garment bag. You took it from the coat hanger with a laugh, heading to the bathroom to clean up first. “You really did plan to ruin the dress.”

“I’ll ruin that one too, but it can wait till we get home.”

Your core was already throbbing at the thought and you had to shut the door before you took a seat on his lap and rode him into the couch he was waiting for you on. You had already kept him away from his party for too long, he should make a reappearance before people think he left. You stepped out of the bathroom with the dress held to your chest and he was already rising from the chair with his tongue licking his lips at the sight.

“Do me up?” You asked over your shoulder and shivered as his cool fingers zipped you up and kissed your neck softly. “Will you dance with me?”

Winter nodded but not before you caught his smirk. “First, bend over, you’re forgetting something.”

He opened his palm and your eyes widened at the metal plug that had a large diamond set in the base. “Wiiiiinnn...”

“It’s this or the egg, your choice.” His grin only widened when you bent over and held the back of the chair, the egg was just too much in your current state and you weren’t going to deny his request, you wanted it.

The cold metal pressed to your dripping folds first, making it slick before he gently pressed it to your ass. His free hand massaged your lower back as it met resistance and he pushed just a little bit more. “Relax.”

You exhaled deeply and tried not to tense as you felt yourself spreading for it, stretching enough to steal your breath before the pressure was gone and you felt full. “Good girl. Keep it there for me for the rest of the night.”

You straightened up and you wished you chose the egg as a new wave of pleasure filled you and your eyes widened at how good every step felt. His eyes darkened as he watched your chest rise and fall with your controlled breaths and he knew you were going to be dripping down your legs soon. “Time for that dance, kukolka.”

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Two Minds, One Body || Mafia!Bucky [pt3]

Mafia!Bucky x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You pay for your attitude in the best way possible Warnings: 18+ only, smut, edging/orgasm denial, cream pie, cum-play, mutual masturbation, squint and you might see voyerism, fluff, guns WC: 2427

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Your heels clicked loudly as you stormed through the house looking for Bucky, or in this case, Winter. You knew he was here somewhere because his driver was still having a smoke outside but there were too many rooms to check each of them. Instead, you planted yourself beside the front door and waited for him to rear his head.

“Something wrong, love?” Bucky asked as he caught the vision of you waiting, hand on hip and fire in your eyes.

“What the fuck is this?” You growled as you pulled the handgun that had suddenly appeared in your handbag overnight.

“I believe it’s a gun.” He smirked and continued to push his cufflinks into his business shirt.

“Ha ha, I forgot what a comedian you were.” You rolled your eyes. “What is it doing in my bag, Bucky?”

He stepped closer and ran his hands softly down your arms but you shook him off and held your stance firm, he wasn’t going to distract you with his smouldering charm today. With a sigh he pulled away, looking to Nico for help as he entered to foyer only to quickly back track.

“Rat bastard.” Bucky mumbled under his breath before turning his attention back to you, his eyes bleeding almost to black. “I wanted to make sure you are protected in case I’m not around, kukolka.”

“Win…” You sighed as you dropped your hand from your hip. “I don’t even know how to use this, I’m more likely to accidentally shoot myself.”

“I’ll teach you.” He said, taking the gun from your fingertips and shoving it down the back of his waistband and pulling his suit jacket on to hide it. “After what you pulled off last month, we are the richest syndicate on the East Coast. That puts a target on our backs.”

You couldn’t help but beam under his pride, your NFT plan had worked and Bucky was laundering millions every week, but you hadn’t spent too long thinking about the dangers it put you in. You had noticed the extra guards on the property and that when you went out you had almost as much of an entourage as Bucky did, now it made sense.

“Ok, but I’ll need a permit.” You said begrudgingly. “I’m not going to jail because of something stupid like that. It would just be embarrassing.”

“She launders millions and orders around the toughest mob boss in the state of New York, but was caught without a firearms permit.” Bucky laughed, stepping into his brilliantly shined shoes. “That would be pretty embarrassing, doll.”

“Who said you were the toughest mob boss?”

“Oooh, my queen is fierce this morning.” He smirked as he grabbed your jaw and pulled you forward to meet his lips. “I’ll have to fuck that attitude out of you when I get home.”

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His chest was pressed to your back, hands over yours and holding you pinned in place. You could barely breathe as his thigh nudged your legs wider and his lips brushed the side of your neck.

“Focus, kukolka.” Winter warned you as your ass naturally pressed back into him with a promise of good spanking if you didn’t heed his words. “Pull the trigger.”

You took a deep breath through your mouth so you didn’t get distracted by the Armani cologne he wore and tried to focus on the target that had been nailed to the trees at the back of the property. This was not what you thought you would be doing when Bucky returned home, you hadn’t even noticed Nico had disappeared until he returned with a hammer and a swollen thumb.

“Shouldn’t I have ear muffs or something?” You asked in another attempt at delaying the inevitable. “You always see them on tv.”

“If someone attacks I doubt you will have a pair of them on you.” Winter pointed out. “You need to know what you are in for, like the recoil.”

“The what?!” Your hands dropped but Winter caught them and aimed them back at the target. “I don’t think I can do this…”

“I’ve got you.” He stilled your trembling hand and let one of his fall to your hip. “I remember the first time I pulled the trigger.”

“I’m pretty sure you were born with a gun in one hand and a flask of whiskey in the other.”

“Close but not quite.” He chuckled and let his other hand fall to your hip too. “It’s not as scary as it seems. Pull the trigger.”

You turned your face away and screwed your eyes shut as your index finger curled over the trigger. If the deafening bang wasn’t enough to scare the living daylights out of you, the snap of the recoil did. Winter’s hands were quick as lightning as they caught yours and steadied the hold before you could drop the weapon or accidentally discharge it.

“Good girl.” He grinned and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Did I hit it?” You blinked rapidly, still stunned by the sound and force of your shot.

Winter’s laugh vibrated from his chest as he shook his head. “Not even close, but you pulled the trigger. That’s the hardest part.”

You had to admit now that you had done it once and knew what to expect, the idea did seem easier, you would certainly hold it a bit tighter now that you felt how much it recoiled in your grip and you began to raise the weapon again. This time you aimed to keep your eyes open so you could actually see the target.

“I think I should get a prize if I hit the target.”

Winter’s hand snaked down your body, tugging up the hem of your dress so he could brush aside your panties. “Sounds fair to me.”

Your head tipped back onto his shoulder as what his fingers did was not fair at all. You found it impossible to focus on aiming as they dipped between your folds and teased your clit, soft moans filling the quiet afternoon air. “Win, fuck, thats, not, fair.”

Your hips were rolling as they sought more friction, more depth than his thick fingers could offer. “Take the shot, kukolka. Claim your prize.”

His fingers disappeared and you whimpered at the loss before he raised his glistening digits to his lips, licking them clean as your panties dampened even more. You knew the game he was playing and you wanted so desperately to win. Focus, focus, focus. You remembered his instructions and how to line up the sights on the slide, looking down the barrel and at the target beyond. Deep breath in, sight the target, slowly exhale, pull the trigger. The gun still bounced back in your grip but nothing like the first shot and you saw the bark behind the target splinter as your bullet lodged deep into the trunk.

“Ouch, bad luck, doll.” Bucky sucked the air between his teeth as he took the gun and hit the magazine release as well as the round in the chamber, tucking them away behind his back.

“Woah, uh-uh, I hit the target.” You said as you stopped him from heading back towards the house. “You didn’t stipulate it had to be a head shot.”

You grabbed his hand and he let you tow him to the tree trunk and pointed out the tiny tear in the edge of the paper where your bullet had entered the trunk, nowhere near close to the outline of a head.

“See, target hit.”

Bucky was trying not to laugh as he touched the spot, his finger widening the hole in an innocent way that left you breathless nonetheless. “Someone is just desperate for a prize.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Your lip was caught between your teeth as you stepped up onto a root that stretched out beneath the tree and you stood eye to eye with him.

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you baby?” He smirked as he ran his thumb over your lip, pulling it from your bite. You couldn’t help but flick your tongue out, tasting the pad of his thumb before sucking it as his pupils blew wide and his breathing deepened. “Fuck. Turn around.”

You smiled triumphantly as he spun you against the tree, your hands splayed against the trunk as his hands bunched your dress up. The thin material of your panties were torn apart and left to fall to the leaves before you heard his zip. You were already whimpering for him as he pulled your hips back and pushed your face forward, snapping his hips so he could fill you in one go. Your cry was lost as his hand clamped over your mouth and you were reminded that there were guards roaming the property.

“You’re mine, doll, no one else gets to see you like this.” He promised between sweet kisses and sharp bites to your neck. “So be a good girl and don’t make a sound.”

His hand fell from your mouth and you bit your lip to keep them shut as he circled your clit instead. It took all of your concentration to stay quiet as your legs began to tremble with every long stroke of his cock against your walls.

“Don’t cum just yet, babygirl.” He warned as his rhythm failed.”Remember my promise this morning.”

Your head was clouded by your impending orgasm when suddenly his cock twitched as his deep groan filled your ears as he spilled himself inside and pulled his hand away from where you needed it most.

“Gonna fuck the attitude out of you first. Then you’ll get your prize.” He smirked, pulling out after his release ended. “Close your legs, doll, I don’t want any of that leaking out between here and our bed.”

He tucked his cock back in his pants and zipped it up before whistling happily along the path, stopping a moment to check you were following him. Your knees were pressed together tightly as you tried to walk without letting his cum drip down your legs but gravity was a losing battle and you decided speed would be better over strategy, power walking past your grinning beau. You dared not give him the usual lippy attitude as you passed him  in case he withheld anymore orgasms, but you knew when you finally got your prize it would be monumental.

Your clothes were discarded in a messy heap as you entered your room and waited on the bed for Bucky. Your legs were crossed and your hips slightly raised, doing exactly as you were told, when he walked in the room a short while after. His shirt had been unbuttoned and hung loose around his body, the light illuminating every defining line that cut his abdominal muscle into the six pack you wanted to ride.

“Open.”

Your legs spread wide as he stopped at the foot of the bed, the feel of his liquid silk  slipping through your folds and running over you already had you trembling and his hands dropped his trousers so he could stroke his already hard again cock. The possessive burn of his eyes set your skin on fire and your fingers inched over your hip, begging permission to touch yourself.

“Go on, love.” He nodded as he gripped himself tighter. “Take yourself to the edge, but I’ll be the one who makes you cum.”

You sighed happily as you applied the pressure you needed to your clit, dipping your fingers down to gather his cum to use it to soothe the ache on your swollen bundle of nerves. Your back arched as your fingers easily glided over the nub and your walls fluttered, more of his cum dripping from your needy cunt and earning a deep moan from Bucky as he appreciated the sight. Your eyes locked together and you felt the tightening in your core curl your toes, pushing yourself to the brink before you threw your hands away from your body and tried to fight the urge to finish.

“You are perfect.” He vowed as he climbed on the bed, leaving kisses up your thighs before his tongue lashed slowly through your folds, gathering a mouthful of his cum and your arousal. His cock rested between you and every movement left his veiny shaft rubbing over your sensitive clit as he captured your lips, tongue sharing the taste of your bodies combined. “You can cum whenever you want now, doll.”

His hips pulled back so his cock could fall between your legs before he snapped them back into you, your body putting up no resistance as he filled you to your core. You could finally cry out his name, the thick walls of your room trapping the sounds of your ecstasy firmly within them. Your fingers clawed at his back as the edging left you blinded with passion and you bucked your hips up to meet his every thrust, his pelvic bone applying just the right touch for whitehot spots of light to dart across your vision.

Unintelligible words tumbled from your lips as your orgasm built and built and built until you thought you would just combust into a billion atoms. Your mind splintered and for a moment there was no feeling at all, it was like time stopped as your soul left your body and every muscle froze. Then you came crashing back down, your pussy pulsing uncontrollably as your legs wrapped around his back, liquid gushing around his cock as your body was overcome with fever.

“Holy shit.” Bucky moaned as he watched your orgasm rip through you, feeling your walls draw him in and hold him tighter than ever as his thighs were drenched by the torrent of liquid squirting over him. “Oh, fuck, so good.”

He couldn’t hold back any longer, not when your eyes rolled back into your head and he knew he had kept his promise. Collapsing onto your chest, he shuddered as he spilled himself inside you once again, both of your bodies covered in a light sweat from the sweet torture you had been put through. Rolling his eyes to look up at you from where he lay you could only move enough to place a kiss on his forehead, his eyes fluttering closed at the softness.

“Are you still going to give me attitude?” He asked with a small hint of a smile, really not minding it at all.

Your chest bumped his head with a laugh and you stroked your fingers through his hair. “Am I still breathing?”

Click here for part 4.

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Again I really don’t know why I didn’t de log this it’s perfect

Two Minds, One Body || Mafia!Bucky [pt2]

Mafia!Bucky x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Now that you are a permanent fixture in Bucky and Winter's life they treat you as their queen. Have mercy on anyone who disrespects their queen. Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mafia typical threat of violence WC: 2864

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

When you had been asked to pack a bag for a night away, you had thought you were going somewhere further than New York City. The confusion had been clear on your face as your driver parked outside a gated brownstone, but before you could ask why you were there the front door opened to reveal Bucky. His usual business attire had been ditched in exchange for a dark blue cashmere sweater that set his eyes alight and the way it hugged his chest had you itching to run your hands over it.

The only sign that he wasn’t as relaxed as he tried to appear was the crystal tumbler of whiskey hanging from his fingertips and the way his hair tipped to one side, the result of his fingers constantly brushing through the strands. Your driver was at your side and opening the door just as Bucky cleared the gate and you stepped onto the pavement and into his waiting arms. He may have only been gone one day but it was more than enough to have missed his presence at home.

“I’m so glad to see you, doll.” Bucky whispered quietly into your ear as his eyes scanned the street. “Let’s get inside.”

Whatever timeless age the outside held was gone the moment you stepped over the threshold. High ceilings and open spaces were modernised and surprisingly minimalist compared to the decor of the mansion upstate, but it was just as stunning. Bucky’s hand was low on your back as he guided you through the foyer and down a hall to his office at the back. You were suddenly nervous as he closed the door behind you and placed his glass on the mahogany desk.

He dropped heavily into his chair and turned his attention to the wall of glass that overlooked the private backyard and shimmering pool. A tension hung in the air and you were surprised Winter wasn’t making his way to the surface as Bucky chewed on his bottom lip and twirled a pen mindlessly in his hand. Suddenly he dropped the pen back on the desk and patted his lap, your movements slower than normal as you tentatively approached him.

“I need your help.”

Whatever you thought he was going to say could not have come close and your lips parted as you took a breath and sat on his lap. “Whatever you need, baby.”

“A warehouse of mine was raided today. There was meant to be an auction tonight.” He said as he tipped his head back and sighed as your hands massaged the tight muscles on his shoulders. “We are sitting on $100 million cash and this auction was how we were going to wash it.”

You didn’t know where he was heading with it as he reached for his whiskey and swallowed the amber liquid back, sucking his teeth as the alcohol burnt down his throat. “I need to know if you were serious when we met.”

You nodded as you remembered what you said in an attempt to hopefully save your life. “You can launder money digitally without losing, I'm sure. I had a lot of time to think of business and criminal ventures when I was trapped in that marriage.”

“I need you to show me how, doll. If I can’t get rid of this cash quick we are all fucked.”

You stood up and turned around so you could sit facing his computer, already bringing up different websites. “You’re familiar with cryptocurrency, right?”

“Some of our overseas partners use it.” He nodded. “We have wallets with Ethereum, Litecoin, Cardino and a few others.”

“Good. What about NFT’s?” He shrugged and you brought up an image that looked like a child had made on Microsoft Paint. “Buying, trading and selling of unique digital media. It can be as basic as this shit or actual art but they are legitimate sales and can be almost completely anonymous with crypto.”

He leant forward to look closer at the website and scanned over the information, his mind processing it efficiently. “I’ll need a few more shell companies, but that's simple enough to do.”

“Buy a few of these cheaper ones and sell them to yourself for a few hundred thousand.” You nodded. “Crypto takes care of the rest, money washed.”

“Set it up.”

“Wait, what?” You gasped, spinning around to see if he was joking.

“This is your baby.” He reclined back with a smile, reaching into his pocket for his phone and wallet. “Get whatever you need to make it happen.”

No one had ever trusted you to do, well, anything. You had just been an item to trade and barter with and now Bucky was treating you as his equal. Sensing your hesitation, he pulled you closer and cupped your face as his lips brushed softly over yours. Your body relaxed in his embrace, moulding into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you need any help, I’ll be right here.” He reassured you as he broke away, leaving you to catch your breath.

You took a deep breath and nodded, mentally telling yourself that you could do this. You had made a million plans in your head on how to hide money on the off chance you had been able to save some up and escape your previous marriage that you knew you had the idea right, you just needed to execute it. Turning back to the computer you were stopped and Bucky shook his head.

“Start tomorrow, doll. I asked you down here so I could take you out. How does dinner and dancing sound?”

“Sounds like you are trying to court me.” You teased him as you twirled your fingers around the hairs hanging longer at his nape. “I think you are just trying to get me in your bed.”

His rich laugh sent warmth pooling between your legs and his hand trailed up your leg as if he could sense it. “Definitely. In my bed, in my shower, on my desk…everywhere.”

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Bucky’s eyes darted around the room that was far too busy for his liking, there were too many exposure points and he had precious cargo with him. Everybody that brushed too close to you had his fingers inching closer to the gun on his hip and you stepping closer under his arm.

“There something I should know?” You asked as you noticed the stiffness that was usually reserved for Winter.

“No, I just don’t particularly like it here.” He said as he continued his survey of the nightclub’s ground floor.

“You don’t like it?” Your laugh briefly pulled his attention away and your hand resting on his chest had his cock twitch. “Honey, you own it.”

“I own half this city.” He pointed out before spotting a familiar face and his eyes darkened to azure.

“Win, what’s wrong?” You asked as you noticed the switch, following his line of sight to your ex-husband. Your evening had been going so well, starting with dinner at Chef’s Table then a few cocktails at Little Branch before heading to the nightclub for some dancing. In an instant the mood was gone. “Fucking marvellous.”

“I’ll deal with him.” Winter said chillingly. “Go with Nico and order a drink while I take out the trash.”

“Don’t take too long, there’s only two names on my dance card.” You whispered as you tiptoed to reach his ear, placing a quick kiss to his racing pulse.

“Kukolka…” he groaned as he fought the urge to take you to his office upstairs and fuck you on another of his desks.

“Sorry.” You said with a soft chuckle.

“No you’re not.” He said before snapping his fingers at Nico to get his attention and leaning down into your ear. “I’ll deal with you later, now go.”

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you imagined just how he would deal with you and you couldn’t wait. Two drinks later you were squirming on your bar stool. Between the music and the thought of Winter you just couldn’t sit still. Climbing off, you felt the room slightly spin and decided not to finish the half full glass.

“Would you like some water, ma'am?” Nico asked as he watched you grab the bartop.

“I think that is probably a good idea.” You admitted as you tried to act sober and failed.

After a refreshing glass of water you decided to make your way into the crowd filling the dancefloor, needing something to distract you from the absence of you boyfriend. A moment of insecurity hit you as you swayed to the music and you noticed the crowd move away from you. You didn’t think you had stood on anyones toes and the dozens of bottles of perfumes Bucky had bought were mouthwatering so it wasn’t that either. Turning around though, you saw exactly what had sent them spilling to the edges of the room.

Winter’s air of dominance was almost palpable as his eyes roamed your body, your hips begging him to grip them tight as he showed every man exactly who you belonged to. He had seen the way the others had been eyeing you up, and if Nico hadn’t been there to stop their filthy fingers from getting close he would have been splitting his knuckles on another man. He had only just left your ex-husband unconscious against the dumpsters out back, he would have no problem adding more bodies to it.

Your body was burning for his touch as he continued to watch, his chest puffing from the fight he had just had and the sight before him. Holding your hand out, you curled your finger in invitation and his lips teased a hint of a smile that only you could see. To everyone else he looked cold and unfeeling and he stepped closer like he was stalking his prey, this was the deadly mob boss with a reputation of getting his hands dirty. To you, you saw the fire in his eyes and welcomed his touch, your thumb softly brushing the fresh bruises on his knuckles before they came to rest on your hips.

“You started without me, kukolka.” He murmured low into your ear just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Turning in his arms so you could roll your hips and grind your ass over his cock, you leant back into his chest to look up at him with a smirk. “You were taking too long. I had to get your attention somehow.”

You should have known he would be a good dancer, the way he held you close and rolled his body in time with yours should have been illegal. It almost was illegal some of the things his hands were doing but he just stopped short of fucking you on the dancefloor. Just. The build up was leaving you dizzy and you could feel your arousal pooling in your panties with every beat of the heavy bass playing around you. Filth fell from Winter’s mouth between the kisses and sucks he was trailing along your neck and you felt like you could almost reach bliss without a single touch to your needy cunt.

“Win, unless you want everyone here to know how I look when I cum, we need to leave.” You begged as the throbbing between your legs left your chest rising and falling rapidly with sharp breaths.

“Upstairs.”

You could barely keep up as he raced towards the stairs that led to his office above the club and his fingers almost slipped from yours twice before you made it there. His hand was just about to turn the doorknob when Nico shouted over the music. A deep groan escaped his gritted teeth as he turned to find Nico holding his hand over his phone, worry indenting lines across his face.

“Got a situation, boss.”

Winter’s barely audible curse left you hiding the disappointment you felt, knowing your night had come to a halt earlier than planned. You gave him a small smile in return for the apologetic look he was giving you and he held his phone out to accept the call of whoever was on the other line. “This might take a while, doll. Nico, call the car around.”

He was about to head into his office where it was quiet enough to take the call but you pulled him to a stop, stealing your kiss goodnight before he regrettably pulled. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

He bit his lip as your hands trailed down his abs to hover over the bulge trapped in his pants. “Then you’ll deal with me?”

“Oh, doll.” He chuckled. “I’ll do more than just deal with you, I’m going to ruin you.”

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You could hear Winter’s angry rock music leaving you a trail of aural breadcrumbs to follow and you found the sound escaping the doors to the gym. Sweat was beading along his forehead as he lay there bench pressing an insane amount of weight, his legs spread wide to balance himself. The ropes of muscles in his arms strained to push the bar back up but still he kept going, so focused on finishing his reps that he didn’t notice you slipping inside.

“I missed you last night.”

You straddled his waist and he locked the bar over the hook so his hands were free to roam your body. You were still in one of his shirts you slept in, the edge riding up your thighs as he looked down to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was already straining against the loose shorts he wore and you rolled your hips to sate your need for friction. You had waited up but after the dawn rays broke through the gap in the curtain you gave in to your exhaustion, it must have been important if it kept him out all night.

“Had some shit to deal with.” He tone admitted he missed you too as he felt the heat of your core calling to him.

“I had to take care of myself.” You pouted, reaching up your shirt to tease your nipples. “That’s how much I missed you.”

His chest vibrated with a possessive growl and he lifted you from his lap just long enough to push his shorts over his hips, impaling you with one well aimed thrust.

“Oh fuck.” You cried at the sudden fullness, swearing that you could feel him as your hand pressed to your stomach.

“Show me.” Winter grunted as your feet lifted off the ground with each sharp rut up into you. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

Your jaw went slack with ecstasy and you ran two fingers over his full pink lips until he opened his mouth for them, tongue working around them until they were nice and wet for you. Your heavenly sigh filled the air as you teased your clit and rolled your hips, riding Winter as he laid back and enjoyed the show. Your free hand tweaked your stiff peaks and the residual feelings from the nightclub plus everything he was doing quickly had you falling into your first orgasm.

Your pleasure was like a naked flame, your body the fuse and Winter the explosive. Seeing you ignite sent Winter into action. His large hands splayed across your back and he pulled you down, chest to chest as he took the control back. His hips pistoned furiously into you and your body had no time to recover from the first orgasm, the waves continuing to ripple through you, pussy gushing around his cock and down your legs.

“Fuck, Win, oh god, too much!” You cried as your legs fell slack around the bench and you gave yourself over to him.

“Wanna feel you come around me again.” He panted as he starved off his release to feel yours first.

Your head was shaking, but you couldn’t find the words to deny him as your walls began to flutter and tighten more with every rough pound of his body ramming yours. You tried to pull away as ghostly touches of fire spread over your skin but he took your hands and pinned them behind your back.

“Fuck, fuck, Winter, please.” You begged as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Take it, kukolka, you take it so well.”

You sagged with relief as your pussy began to pulse and he groaned as your body milked his cock, the hot ropes releasing with his heavy breathes that blew cool air across the fire that consumed your body. His hands released the grip on yours and pulled the limp limbs up to his neck so you could play with his hair while you recovered.

“I always liked waking up alone, until now.” You murmured as your mind remained in a cum-clouded haze.

“I wish I could promise that it wouldn’t happen again but our line of work makes it impossible.”

You looked up to see Bucky, his softer touch running soothingly up and down your spine.

“Then I’ll be content with the nights we do have.”

Click here for next part.

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I just saw while reading this again that I never rebloged it ! What a mistake this is a masterpiece!! Perfect as always

hiya love!!

a bucky x reader idea i think you’d pull off with your amazing writing 😘

i thought of it in 2 different au’s, one more regency type and one that’s mafia/mob (personally leaning more towards mafia). the reader is currently in an arranged marriage with a husband who has gambled all their money away and now is in debt with the wrong people (aka buck).

the twist in this is that bucky and the winter solider are a split personality and often switch between the two. winter deals with the more gory and dirty work of leading the mafia and bucky deals with the parts such as mingling, the business deals, etc. winter is willing to forgive the husbands debt in exchange for the reader. reader pretty much hates her husband and while she’s scared to meet the head of the mafia and essentially become his property, she slowly learns about bucky and winter and grows to love them both and gets treated as the queen she deserves.

Thank you nonnie! This is such a cool idea and was so fun to write ❤️ I hope you enjoy it!

Two Minds, One Body || Mafia!Bucky [pt.1]

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mafia typical threat of violence, could be considered dark! to start with since it's technically kidnapping and then technically cheating WC: 4.4k ... I got carried away

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

You stared blankly at the cashier wondering if this was some sort of sick joke. “Try it again, something is obviously wrong with your system.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, your card has been declined.” She said as she handed the card back. “Insufficient funds.”

You could feel the judgement radiating off the people in the line behind you and your face flushed with embarrassment, this had never happened before. Swiping the card from her fingers you stormed out of the grocery store and already had your phone to your ear.

Your heart stilled as the bank manager repeated what the previous person had already told you, but you still couldn’t believe it. You wouldn’t normally be so rude but your life was crumbling apart and you just didn’t have the capacity to be polite at that moment. With shaking hands you hung up and pounded your fist into the steering wheel with a scream.

“Hey Siri, call Asshole.”

“Calling Asshole.”

You buckled your seatbelt across you as the dial tone filled the speakers in the car and you were merging with traffic as the call connected to your husbands phone.

“How the fuck could you go and do that!” You screamed as he answered.

“Look, it’s fine, I’m sorting it out.”

“It’s fine?” You laughed humorlessly. “I couldn’t buy our damn groceries! That’s not fine! If my parents knew-”

“You’re parents don’t give a fuck about you. Shit, they couldn’t get rid of you fast enough. Who do you think arranged this marriage?” He sneered. “Look, I’ve got to go, I’m a bit busy to deal with your shit too. Just don’t go home if you like living, not until I get this guy's money back.”

Your car slammed to a stop as four blacked out SUVs closed in around you and panic gripped your throat. Traffic honked their horns as the road was blocked but they soon fell silent as the doors opened and men piled out. The last one that stepped out held himself differently from the rest and he leisurely buttoned his suit jacket as if the city ran on his schedule.

“Who else’s money did you piss away?” You whispered only to find the call had been disconnected and you felt the blood draining from your face.

You couldn’t move as your car idled and the man stalked his way towards you, eyes hidden by the designer sunglasses he wore. He looked like he was better suited to walking a runway than the dirty streets of New York but there he was making his way closer to you, the flash of a gun peeking from his hip with every step until he came to a stop beside your door. His knuckles rapped on your window and you trembled as you wondered whether you could just not open the door, maybe you would wake up from this nightmare any second.

“This will go a lot smoother if you just open the door, doll.” He said as he pulled his sunglasses off and pierced you with his ice blue eyes.

Your fingers turned the key and the engine fell silent before you slipped them between your knuckles. You tried to gather every ounce of courage you had as you unlocked the door and he pulled it open, his other hand offered out to you. You brushed it aside and stepped out yourself, ignoring the smirk he held when he saw your keys like a spiked knuckle duster in your fist.

“You have more guts than that poor excuse of a man you married.” He said with a Brooklyn accent.

“A slug has more guts than him.” You fired back.

His laugh was echoed by his guards but he was the one that held you captive and his smile disarmed you. You hadn’t expected the infamous New York mob boss to be so charming, or young for that matter. Most you had seen in the news were old men, well past their prime.

His hand unfurled your fist and took your keys, tossing them to one of his men before his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you to his Lincoln. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“That’s not a question is it?”

His lips tipped up as he looked down at you and he shook his head. “No, you have no choice in what happens from here.”

The charm was gone in an instant and the chilling dread seeped back in your bones as he held his door open for you, hand urging you to move with the promise he had the strength to throw you inside if you didn’t move. Stepping up into the luxury SUV left his hand sliding down over your ass and you swore you heard him inhale sharply before his touch was gone.

“Where to, Mr Barnes?”

His eyes flicked to yours before he looked back to the rearview mirror his driver was facing and waiting for an answer. “Home.”

You watched the driver's eyebrows pinch together but he didn't say anything as he pulled away from the street, letting the traffic resume behind him.

“You should put your seatbelt on, doll.” Mr Barnes said as he looked over your body.

“At this point I don’t see what difference it makes.” You sighed, resigned to your fate. “I’m not stupid, I have heard the stories about you Mr Barnes. I figure I am dead either way.”

He sighed and reached over your body, his rich cologne filling your senses as he grabbed your belt and buckled it in. “You can call me Bucky.”

“I could call you a lot of things.” You whispered under your breath as you turned to watch the busy streets go by, slowly finding the city giving way to the more open landscape of Upstate New York. “You know, if you are planning on using me to get your money back it won’t work.”

“And why is that?” Bucky asked curiously, having watched you the entire length of the journey.

“He doesn’t care about me.” You broke away from where you had been watching his reflection in your window and looked him dead in the eye. “He is probably glad to see me gone.”

His eyes stared into yours, almost inhumanly still as they tried to draw the thoughts straight from your head. “You actually believe that.”

“Our parents arranged our marriage, it wasn’t something we, well I, had any choice in.” You turned back to the window, unable to hold his intense stare any longer and silence fell back over the car as you wondered where the Eastern European lilt suddenly came from.

The convoy of cars pulled up at an impressive set of gates and it was the only way you could see where you were heading as the rest was hidden by high brick walls that surrounded the property. The driveway seemed impossibly long as it snaked through a woodland that seemed straight out of A. A. Milne's stories and you found your breath misting up the window as you leant in to have a closer look.

You looked back at Bucky to see if he was as enamoured by the view as you were but he was busy typing away on his phone, probably desensitised to the sight since it was his home. You were caught watching him and the way he bit his lip as he concentrated on whatever message or email he was composing that you missed the first impression of seeing his home come into view.

“I thought you were enjoying the scenery.” He murmured without looking up from his phone and you startled as you spun your head to turn away only to find the car coming to a stop outside the grand home.

“Holy shit.” You whispered at the sight. “I imagined you would be taking me to a damp warehouse with chains hanging from the rafters.”

He barked a laugh as he pocketed his phone. “I can always arrange that for you, kukolka.”

You weren’t imagining the change in his accent this time and you were still left sitting in the car confused when he made it to your side and opened the door. “I have business to take care of. Get out.”

You hit the red button on the buckle and scrambled out of the car at the sharp tone, looking around the empty pathway and deciding whether you should make an attempt to run or not.

“The closest neighbour is 32 miles in that direction.” Bucky said as he pointed to the west. “The dogs would track you before you even got halfway there, that is if the guards on perimeter duty didn’t shoot you first.”

You swallowed at the thought and let the idea of running fall into the recesses of your mind. “Why did you bring me here?”

His eyes seemed to darken as he chewed that lip of his once again. “I don’t know.”

He turned on his heel and made his way up the stone steps, a snap of his fingers urging you to catch up and you eyed the rolling green pasture once more before following him. You nearly lost him as he turned down a hall but his voice called your name and you turned the corner to find him in a large open kitchen that was almost bigger than your house.

“Drink?” He asked as he opened a cabinet lined with spirits.

“Why not.” You shrugged and took a seat in front of him. “How much does he owe you?”

Bucky placed a cocktail in front of you, not even asking what you preferred but somehow getting it right. “10.”

“Thousand?”

“Million.”

You choked on your drink at the thought of trying to pay it back. “Why the hell would you loan someone $10 million!”

He shrugged. “Because I can.”

You emptied your drink in two gulps and slid the glass back to him, begging him to refill it as you dropped your head to the cool marble countertop. “What a business model.”

“It’s money laundering, doll, sometimes we lose.”

“Boohoo, you lost some money.” You mocked as the alcohol hit your empty stomach. “I’m the one probably going to lose my life because of it.”

“Not many people would dare mock me, kukolka.” He said as he rounded the island and spun your bar stool around to cage you between it and his body. “Are you fearless or stupid?”

“It would be stupid to be fearless.” His lips tipped up at your wise words and he decided you definitely were not stupid but you certainly were brave as you leant in closer so your lips were almost touching his skin. “You can launder money digitally without losing.”

“And how would you do that?”

“If I tell you, there’s no reason to keep me alive.” You said as you leant back and grabbed your drink, taking a sip as he tried to determine if you were lying or not.

“I can think of a few reasons to keep you alive, kukolka.”

The lick of his lips sent your heart racing and for the first time it wasn’t in fear. Your legs tried to close to give you some friction but you found Bucky had stepped between them and he smirked as he felt them twitch against his thighs.

“Bucky?” You asked breathlessly, placing your glass down with a trembling hand.

“Call me Winter.”

Your head tipped to the side as you saw the shade of blue darker than before. The frown lines disappeared as the colder personality came to the surface. It made sense now, Bucky was the charming businessman, Winter was anything but. Still, the passive face and the cold eyes set something alight within you and you couldn’t deny the fact it was something you had imagined you would have with your husband but it never came.

“Winter.” You tasted his name on your tongue, enjoying the way his eyes followed your lips as they moved.

The moment hung as he stared at your lips and you could hardly breathe as you waited for him to make his choice and much to your disappointment he stepped back, his eyes fading back to the paler blue.

“How many people know?” You asked as he ran a hand through his dark hair and refilled his glass.

“No one.” He growled, emptying the drink in one breath and throwing the glass to shatter against the wall. “Fuck!”

He grabbed your arm and you had to almost run to keep up with his pace as he climbed the staircase and led you down another hall. He reached into his pocket as he stopped outside a door and unlocked it, pushing it open and shoving you inside before closing it. The sound of the lock echoed around the huge silent room and you sighed as you leant back against the door, the small bump on the other side letting you know he was mirroring your pose.

“Your secret is safe with me, Bucky.” You said since you were sure he was listening. “I have no one to tell even if I wanted to anyway.”

His footsteps retreated down the hall and you were left to explore the room you had been confined to.

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The door creaked open and a slither of light illuminated your dark room before the door closed once again, his barely audible footsteps padding across the room to where you lay. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to climb into the enormous bed for fear of it swallowing you whole and getting lost in the mountain of pillows, opting to curl up on the loveseat instead. It didn't matter, you couldn’t get to sleep anyway.

“You should be asleep, kukolka, it’s late.” Winter murmured as he snaked his arms under you and carried you to the bed.

“I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by armed men that I don’t know or trust.” You replied with a stifled yawn. “I can’t sleep.”

“No one here will hurt you, I promise.” He said as he laid you down on the soft sheets and climbed in beside you. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“What about Bucky?” You asked quietly as you rolled on your side to face him.

“He doesn’t want you harmed.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Winter had been coming to your room every night since you arrived here and sometimes he would even use your bathroom to wash away the blood that caught under his nails. You never asked him about it and he never offered but you knew he was who the stories were about, the mob boss who was ruthless and cutthroat, it was Winter. For some reason he never scared you as he sat quietly in the corner of your room, watching you sleep only to disappear before you woke. This was the first night he joined you in your bed.

“How long am I going to be kept here?” You asked as you watched his chest slowly rise and fall while he stared at the dark chandelier. “He’s never going to be able to pay back the $10 million he owes, if that’s what you are waiting for.”

“I know.” His hair fell over his face as he turned to face you and you brushed it back so you could see his eyes even in the low light, they somehow glowed.

“So what, I am just your prisoner here until you get bored of me.”

His eyes hardened and his hand reached out to cup your cheek, the slight pressure ensuring you couldn’t look away even if you wanted. “You think of this as your prison?”

You sighed and shook your head, in all honesty it was more like living at a luxury resort. You were catered for by an amazing chef, spent your days beside the pool with a book from the vast library and occasionally had a visit from Winter or Bucky. Everyone else left you alone, barely even making eye contact with you as they roamed the mansion with their rifles hanging from their shoulders. That was the only thing that left you ill at ease.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You said as your cheek warmed under his touch. “I just miss reality, I miss going out. Don’t get me wrong, the clothes you bought me are lovely but…”

You looked at the closet that was full of designer clothes that had arrived the day after you had, they were expensive and pretty but there was nothing comfortable. You thought you had offended Winter when he rose from your bed and left the room, his absence making it even darker than before, and you wanted to follow with an apology. With a heavy sigh you fell back into the pillows and threw one over your head.

It wasn’t until the pillow was ripped away that you found Winter standing over you with a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt in his hands. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

You sat up and took the clothes with a smile. “Thank you, Win.”

“Win?”

“You don’t like it? I figured you have your nickname for me, I should have one for you.”

“I’ve never had a nickname before.” He said as his head tilted slightly to the side, his tell when he was confused, much like Bucky’s frown lines.

“Well, now you do. Close your eyes.”

He didn’t follow your order but you weren’t surprised. There was no one that could give Winter or Bucky an order, they would only do something if they wanted to. Grabbing the silk hem of the Victoria’s Secret nightgown you had been given you pulled it over your head and replaced it with Winter’s shirt. The cotton was soft and it held a hint of his scent as well as the fresh linen scent the housekeepers used doing the laundry.

“Are you going to come back in?” You asked as he stayed frozen beside your bed, jaw ticking as he clenched it.

“Probably not a good idea.”

Your fingers played with the edge of the shirt that barely covered your thighs, the hint of your lace panties peeking out the bottom with every little movement as desire pooled in your core. “Please.”

The word had barely left your lips before he captured them with his own. You fell back into the pillows with a sigh as he pushed you back to graze his teeth down your neck.

“I can’t be gentle, kukolka, I just need to feel you.” Winter growled low in your ear.

“I don’t want you to be gentle.” You moaned as his fingers brushed your panties aside and slipped between your slick folds. “I want you to fuck me.”

You gasped as he ripped the material away and pushed a second finger in curling them up as he palmed over your clit, soft moans escaping your parted lips. Your hands worked through the first two buttons before your patience ran out and you tore his shirt open, the white buttons getting lost among the sheets. The soft moonlight gave you just enough light to see the defined muscles that shaped his body and you dragged your nails down the hard planes as he tensed beneath your touch.

“Sorry about your shirt.”

Your hand dipped beneath his pants and his breath hissed as your fingers wrapped around his hard length, a moan quickly following. “No you’re not.”

Your touch was failing as his fingers brought you closer to bliss and you instead tried to focus on freeing him from his pants, the expensive material finally falling away and he crawled onto the bed. His fingers never let up as he knelt between your legs, and he sat back on his heels as nudged your legs wider to watch his effect on you. His eyes were almost black as he watched his fingers disappearing into your core and you pushed your shirt up to your neck to massage your breasts, teasing him as you teased yourself.

“Fuck, kukolka, I have to take you.” He moaned as you pinched and rolled your nipples, his fingers disappearing a second before his head split your folds and buried himself inside you.

Your head tipped back with a cry at the sudden fullness and your fingers clawed at his chest for some purchase. His body echoed yours, head falling back and back arching so he pushed even deeper within you, stretching you with a delicious burn that left you wanting more. You barely had time to adjust to his size before he was slamming his hips against yours and pushing your knees to your chest.

“Yesyesyes.” You cried as your cunt clenched around him, teetering on the edge of bliss. “Oh god, please don’t stop, Win.”

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me.” He groaned as you tightened under his touch, his thumb slipping between you to press against your bundle of nerves.

You were so far gone that his thumb pushed you over the edge, your head spinning as your body was thrown to the clouds to drift weightlessly as he rode through your orgasm. A growl of pure masculinity tore from his throat as your pussy gripped him and you felt the warmth of his cum fill you but still he didn’t stop. He let your knees fall away so he could get closer to you, pressing his chest to yours and tracing your jaw with his soft lips. Your fingers laced in his hair and your tongue danced with his as he slowed his furious pace to longer, slower strokes that almost left you empty before he filled you again.

When he pulled away his eyes were no longer dark and he pressed his forehead to yours as his hand pulled your leg higher up his. The new angle sent a fresh wave of heat in your belly and you moaned against his cheek as you rolled your hips up to his.

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna cum again.” You panted as your eyes screwed shut at the mounting pleasure.

“Hmm, wanna feel you cum all over my cock, doll.”

His mouth ate the moans that attempted to fill the air and you could no longer tell where your body ended and his began. You were merely a single writhing entity working towards mutual bliss and when his mouth found the sweet spot along your neck the elastic band in your core snapped. Your legs trembled harder than the beat of your heart and your eyes rolled back in your head as your back arched off the bed with a cry.

“Fuck, that’s it, doll.” He praised as his elbows caged you between them and he looked down the length of your body, watched his cock being swallowed by your dripping cunt. “You take it all so well. Gonna fill you up real good.”

You could barely comprehend the meaning behind his words, just the way he spoke kept sending waves of aftershocks down your legs until his hips snapped forward and he stayed buried, shooting more hot ropes of cum inside you with a deeply satisfied moan. He collapsed against your chest, keeping most of his weight on his elbows so he didn’t hurt you but still laying close enough that you could feel each other's racing hearts.

“You look good in my clothes.” He murmured as he rolled to the side and pulled your shirt back down. “Might have to burn everything else.”

“You would too.” You chuckled and rolled into his open arms with a sigh. “Seems a waste to just have them hanging there but it’s not like I have anywhere to wear them.”

His eyes were blinking slowly as his fingers drew circles across your hip. “I wanna take you out. We could go somewhere nice, just the two of us, once I deal with your husband.”

The mention of that asshole had you rolling out of the bed and walking to the bathroom, you did not want to think of him after the best sex in years. You didn’t even wait for the water to heat fully before pulling his shirt over your head and stepping under the tepid spray. It didn’t take long for another body to join you and you looked over your shoulder to find which Barnes it was you were with.

“Winter wants you for himself, he’s ready to wipe the debt if your husband agrees to an annulment.” Bucky said as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“And what about you?”

“There’s something about you, how you see us, it’s something we have never had before.” He murmured softly as he tipped your head to the side and kissed your neck. “No one dares talk to us like you do, doll, it’s infuriating, and hot as fuck. I want more. I want you too.”

You had resigned yourself to the fact you would spend your life trapped in a miserable marriage but here was this miracle offering you a way out. You could only imagine the dangers that came with getting in bed with a mob boss but it wasn’t too long ago that you had come face to face with the scariest man in New York and now you were sleeping with him. It had worked out pretty well in your eyes so you turned in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I want you too, both of you.”

Click here for part two.

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since its mother's day, how about bucky barnes being extremely protective over his pregnant gf

Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful people in the maternal role, it is hard so you deserve to have a day to yourself! 

Bucky is always protective and doting but the moment he saw that test come back positive he went into overdrive.

You couldn't even have a drink of water unless it came from a sealed bottle and even then he tasted it first. You didn't understand the reasoning, yes he may have enemies but you doubted they would be sophisticated enough to poison the random bottle you had picked out from a dozen on the shelf.

Bucky watched hundreds of videos and took a cooking class just so that he could learn to make your favourite foods that you craved, ensuring it was cooked through properly so that it was perfectly safe for you and the child you were growing.

Even Sam was shocked when Bucky almost put him in a choke hold for running towards too fast but he was excited to be an uncle. Soon they were both overprotective.

You thought you would be happy to have some space to breathe when he was called away on a short mission but you soon missed his overbearing presence, calling him just to hear his panicked tone as he answered with ‘Is the baby coming?’ every time. 

One time you spotted someone following you while he was away and you suddenly thought all his fears were true so you called him in your own panic, he ended up admitting he had called in a few favours to have some protective detail keep an eye on you at a distance. 

He was also very proud that you had been able to spot them and it gave him some reassurance. He still had to sleep on the couch for a night. Not that he listened. The second you were asleep he snuck back in and talked quietly to his child, feeling the kicks in response with a smile. 

You left Bucky to build the nursery and he enlisted Sam and Joaquin’s technical help, installing more than just he baby monitor you bought. You went to offer them lunch and found wires hanging around the room where they were putting CCTV camera’s in, silent alarms and a heartbeat sensor beneath the cot mattress. 

Okey so basically you know how I am a Muslim ? Well I live in France and I hate it ! And it was my dream since I was 15 to get out of here well in August I am officially moving to Montréal to study !!!!! I AM SO FUCKING HAPPY U CANNOT IMAGINE

Okey so I know I was supposed to come back after Ramadan 🙃🥺but I just realized my biggest dream and I needed to take time to actually process the big changes that are gonna happen in my life

And so I am happy to announce that I’m officially back and I will be binge reading all of your fics because I fucking missed you

Oh, oh, oh!!! I would love to hear about your dream?!?!?! I am so excited for you and I hope it is everything you want it to be ♥️

I missed you sweetie but I'm super happy you took the time to think about your future!

I am in desperate need of a bucky

Run These Streets || Bucky

streetracer!Bucky x fem!reader

Summary: You are Bucky’s spotter, the person he puts his trust in while he’s out on the streets racing. When tragedy nearly strikes you can’t hold back you feelings any longer. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, illegal races, car crash, fluff, friends to lovers, implied smut WC: 2.3k

The streets were lined with cars ready for the Friday night races and they did not disappoint. There were the showy cars, they looked great on the outside but had a stock engine under the hood. There were the rich daddy cars, they were top of the line sports cars driven by toddlers. Then there were the street rats, they could take any beat up car and make magic. Gasoline ran through their veins and they lived for three minutes they spent burning rubber through their city streets.

“Here’s trouble.”

“I’m trouble?” You laughed as your smile grew, Bucky grinning back as he leant against his front bumper. “Just remind me, where was it I picked you up from last weekend? It was this big building, lots of police, bars on the doors…”

“Yeah, yeah, smart ass.” He smirked, oblivious to the bolt of lightning it sent straight to your core. “You gonna come give me a hug or not?”

Keep reading

Hii sweets!♥️ May i request… the thought of rough fucking w bucky 🤭🫠 its for sure gonna be a longg night, like maybe he’s angry abt something (not at u ofc) so he just uses you as a hole to take out his anger 😵‍💫 Oh! And i keep thinking of aftercare w him, the amount of praises, care and love he’ll shower you with!! Hes so gentle and will sit in the bathtub w u while he washes your hair and if youre not too fucked out, you'll wash his hair for him too hehe, etc. Sharing giggles w him and he’ll help you dry your hair dhfdjfdjfsj i love him 🥹🥹🥹

Oomph this Bucky could break my back and I would thank him for it 🥵 thank you for request 💜💜

Control & Comfort || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, bj, unprotected sex, smut-no plot at all, rough sex, pussy slap, degradation, aftercare WC: 1.8k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

You knew exactly how your night was going to be spent the second Bucky walked in the door. His cheeks were flushed and the muscle beneath was hard as he clenched them in anger. The bang of the door slamming shut echoed through the house and his feet carried him straight towards you. Something, or someone, had seriously pissed him off and you were happy to be his outlet.

“Knees. Now.” He snapped as he roughly pulled his jacket off and tossed it over the back of the couch, his fingers instantly moving to unbuckle his belt.

You slipped from the couch and onto your knees without question, your obedience instilled from being at his beck and call for so long. Your hands pulled at his jeans to free his cock and he moaned as you teased your tongue along his length before he gripped the back of your head and thrust his hips forward. There was no warm up, no niceties, just a desperate need to be in control of something in his life.

“Fuck, that’s it, take it like a good girl.” He purred as your throat constricted around him and your eyes watered.

You could feel your pussy throb as he praised you and your hand drifted down your stomach to the waistband of your pants. His hand caught your arm before you could touch yourself and he pulled it away as you tipped your head back to look in his eyes. You were begging him for permission but he just licked his lips and shook his head.

“Not until I say you can.” He warned before he released his hold on your head and pulled out. Your lungs gasped for breath and saliva ran down your chin while he watched with dark eyes. He loved seeing you like this, he thought it was absolutely beautiful. It was you trusting him and giving him complete control. “Stand up and turn around.”

Your legs trembled from kneeling on the hard floor and you felt his hands on your hips as you turned, pulling your pants down before pushing forward over the couch. Cold fingers pressed to your core as he nudged your legs apart and your breath hitched as he smeared your moisture along your slit. You knew he wanted it hard and rough when he didn’t even attempt to prep you with his fingers first, he just needed to feel you wrapped about his cock.

You cried out at the sudden fullness and the burn of him stretching your cunt, the pain quickly turning to pleasure as he pulled back out before slamming into you again. Your breaths were more like gasps as every thrust pushed the air from your lungs and it felt like he was trying to breach your cervix with how hard he fucking you.

“Christ, you're my perfect little slut aren’t you?” He growled as he pushed down on your back until you were almost bent in two, your reply lost in a moan as your core clenched tighter around him. “Taking this big cock whenever I tell you.”

Your fingers were searching for something to grab onto as the warmth in your belly began to grow and the best thing you could reach was a cushion. You squeezed it tight and bit your teeth into it as you fought against release, Bucky reminding you that he hadn’t given you permission with a spank to your ass. You jolted forward at the sharp slap before he pressed his vibranium hand to it and cooled the reddening mark with his touch.

“Please, please, please, Bucky, I can’t hold it.” You begged as your legs quaked and your tears slipped over your lashes.

“Just. A. Little. Longer.” He strained as his hips rolled you, his balls slapping your clit with every thrust.

You were dancing on a knife's edge and it was painful, the promise of release within your reach. “I can’t, I can’t, I-”

“Go on doll, cum all over my cock.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before your release crashed over you and your scream was dampened by the cushion as you buried your face into it. There was no relief as he kept pounding into you, wave after wave rocking through your body as you failed to come down from your high. If it wasn’t for his hands gripping your hips tightly you would have crawled away but he was not about to let that happen. A deeper pressure began to build within you and when he reached down to toy with your clit, it exploded, warmth running down your legs as you trembled around him on the brink of collapse.

“That’s it baby, that’s my good girl.” He grinned proudly as he slowed his pace and let your oversensitized cunt have a moment to recover, his hands massaging your lower back until your muscles relaxed. “Do you think you can handle another? I think you can.”

It would be tough but you would try for him, so you nodded your head and pushed your hips back to meet his. He chuckled as your body greedily took all of him and knew his first release wouldn’t be too far away. He worked his hips like you were dancing and you moaned at the change in angles, aftershocks pulsing within you as he slowly gained momentum with his controlled pace.

“C'mere.” He murmured as his hands rose up your sides, pulling you up so your back was to his chest and his hands came to rest on your breasts, your quick breaths pushing them against him as he began to massage them. “You were made just for me.”

You couldn’t even formulate words as the sharp angle of his hips thrust him over you g-spot and left your body numb, your head floating in the clouds. Sounds strangled in your throat as you rose to your tiptoes but he pulled you back down his cock before you could get away.

“Uh-uh, we had a deal.” He warned low in your ear. “You’re staying right there until you cum again.”

Without warning he lifted his leg, bracing it on the couch seat before ramming into you. You would have screamed at the sudden spike of pleasure but he had snaked a hand to your mouth and clamped down before the sound could escape.

“This is what happens when you are a naughty girl, naughty girls don’t get to cum.” He reminded you before he let you have your breath back and slapped your pussy as he slammed into you. “Are you going to be naughty again?”

You shook your head violently as you cried, another orgasm threatening to tear you apart but he had taken away your permission. “Please, I’ll be good, I promise, oh god, please, I’m gonna cum.”

His smile teased your neck as he kissed your racing heart, he loved nothing more than hearing you beg for him. “I’m gonna fill you up real good when you cum, dollface. Let go.”

Your head tipped back to his shoulder and it was only his hands that kept you upright as whitehot pleasure flooded from you, your body jerking as he fucked into you a few more times before he kept his promise. His grunts filled your ears as he spilled himself in you but instead of stopping he just slowed down, easing himself in and out, enjoying the feel of your walls fluttering around him and the mixture of your cum leaking out all over his cock.

“You did so beautifully.” He praised as he turned your head so he could kiss you sweetly. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had, I needed you so bad.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” You smiled as your eyes fluttered shut and you relaxed in his hold.

“I tired you out didn’t I?” He chuckled as he felt your breath even out and your muscles relax. “Let me clean you up, then you can have a rest.”

“You don’t plan on letting me sleep tonight do you?” You murmured as he slipped out from between your legs and picked you up, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bathroom.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up from where you rested your head on his shoulder, catching the smirk playing at his lips as he pondered his answer. “Eventually.”

Your mind seemed almost as empty as the large bubbles that drifted on the water’s surface and your fingers lazily popped them as they floated by. Bucky whispered softly in your ear, spelling out the sweet words as he wrote across your stomach with his index finger. The moment was perfectly peaceful but you knew from the stirring of his cock against your back that there was the promise of more pleasure to come.

“Lay down, doll.” He said softly as he reached for the shampoo.

You slid down his body until the water reached your ears and silenced the world around you. His fingers massaged your head as he lathered the shampoo into your hair and you closed your eyes before he cupped the water and washed it out. You loved these moments, when he gently brought you down from the rush of endorphins so you didn’t crash completely.

You waited until he had finished conditioning your hair before you sat up, rolling onto your stomach in the deepest bath and resting your chin on his chest. His blue eyes shone as he gazed down at you, love on the surface and need swimming below. You climbed his body and straddled his thighs as you reached for the shampoo bottle.

“My turn.”

He slid down the curve of the bath and water splashed over the lip until he settled neck deep. His eyes fluttered shut as you ran your fingers through his long strands and his lips parted with a sigh as you washed his hair. His cock was growing harder beneath you and his hands pulled you higher up so he teased your entrance.

“You’re going to get soap in your eyes.” You moaned as he pushed past your swollen lips and you eased down his shaft. “Close them.”

“And miss out on a second of watching you?” He chuckled. “I can take a little sting.”

You laughed at his stubbornness before biting your lip just the way he liked and rolled your hips. “You take such good care of me, I want to take care of you. Please, close them for me?”

“Enjoy the control while you can.” He smirked as he closed his eyes. “After we get out of here it’s all mine.”

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I love having badass readers

I wanna req a badass shield agent reader who gets paired up with bucky post cw but all avengers live together in the compound and at first he is grumpy bec blergh I gotta protect her and argh but then he gets impressed and is SO smitten etc

Changed it up a little and the reader was ex hydra before joining the avengers. I hope you enjoy it xx

Babysitting Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, violence, killing, gunshot wounds WC: 2.1k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Steve.”

You could hear the bitterness and hatred that filled Bucky’s voice even through the thick wall of Steve’s office. It didn’t come as a surprise since most people underestimated you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. You thought being a part of the Avengers would be like one happy family but clearly that was not the case.

“I’m not asking you to be a babysitter.” Steve sighed. “She’s your partner, you back each other up, just like we used to.”

“That was different, I knew you.” Bucky argued.

“Then get to know her, Buck, she’s on your floor so you’re going to cross paths eventually.”

“Not if I can help it.”

The door was torn open and you heard the crunch of the handle breaking the drywall before Bucky filled the doorway, surprise crossing his face for a split second before it returned to scarcely controlled rage. You refused to move from where you stood and he had to turn sideways as he passed you or knock you down, the small decision giving you a slither of hope that he wasn’t always an asshole.

“Sorry you had to hear that.” Steve sighed as he saw you standing there. “And sorry for Bucky, he’s still adjusting to 21st century living.”

“Don’t apologise for other people.” You stated as you walked into his office and took a seat. “Any issue they have is on them.”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission.”

“It never has.” You reassured him but his eyebrow quirked up at the answer.

“This happen often?”

“With alpha males.” You nodded.

“How do you usually get past it?”

“Prove myself.”

He slid a manila folder across the table and you opened it to find a briefing. You scanned over the document and closed it back up. It was a simple extraction for a scientist who was defecting from a suspected Hydra operation. “When do we start?”

“He’s ready and waiting. I was about to head out but it looks like you and Bucky can handle it together.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” You said to Bucky after sitting in silence for most of the flight. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He muttered unconvinced as he cast his eyes over you. “At least they gave you an easy mission.”

You scoffed and turned back to the front of the jet, turning off autopilot so you had something to do other than listen to his bullshit. “We both know how much Hydra hates to lose their assets, if you think this will be easy then you need a psych assessment pal.”

“Don’t call me pal.” He growled as he unbuckled his belt and rose over you. “And, you don’t know shit about Hydra.”

He disappeared into the lower deck before you could reply and the scars on your chest began to itch at the reminder of what Hydra did to you. You had thought out of everyone at the compound that he would be the most accepting of you given his past but he clearly did not care.

“We are approaching the target.” You called out as you prepped the jet to land.

You could already see that there were more people than just the target in the building, the heat signatures registering on the screen Friday projected. Bucky had rejoined you and was leaning against your headrest as he counted the bodies and pointed to one on the right.

“You take that one and we will meet on the northside after I grab the package.” He said before turning away and filling the vest he wore with an array of knives. “If you can handle him.”

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and looked over the image again so you knew where everyone was and then the jet touched down silently with the reflective shields in place. You already had everything you needed on you so the moment the doors opened you took off towards the building. Bucky was shocked at your speed but he soon caught up, confusion and surprise on his face as you pushed ahead and kicked the door to the warehouse in.

“Keep up old man.” You fired at him before you spotted the first Hydra soldier.

You spun away as he fired his weapon and ducked behind a pillar until you heard the click of an empty chamber. You closed the distance as he tried to reload but he wasn’t quick enough, his screams choked off as you caught him by the throat and smashed him into the concrete floor. Another two soldiers rounded the corner and you picked up their fallen comrade to take the bullets aimed for you and you wondered briefly where Bucky had ended up.

A streak of metal flew past your face and for a second you thought he was aiming at you, your head whipping around to see Bucky throwing a second knife into the remaining soldier. Dropping the body, you growled as you saw his knives buried in their foreheads. “I had them.”

“Sure you did, doll.” He smirked before taking off further into the building. “Stay there.”

You laughed at the audacity and raced to catch up to him, the fight soon becoming a competition. You hit the jackpot when you reached what must have become the soldiers' mess hall as there were four sitting ducks for you to take care of. A bullet grazed your arm and you hissed at the sting before taking extra pleasure in ending him, your fingers crushing his throat until you felt the bones break.

The building was getting quieter, the less soldiers left alive, and you listened closely for the sounds of fighting and followed it to find Bucky. He was going hand to hand with three men but you saw a fourth entering from another door, gun raised for the shot. You didn’t even think, you ran across the room as the man looked down the scope and you heard the bang of the rifle before you felt the bullet hit your chest. Your body crashed back into Bucky and you groaned as pain radiated your chest as he caught you.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” He growled as he held you with one arm and pulled a gun from behind his back, disposing of the last two men.

“Who's the babysitter now?” You chuckled with a groan as blood began to seep over your fingers.

“Friday, I need a medevac.” Bucky ignored you as he spoke into the comms, laying you on the ground, tossing his vest aside and tearing his shirt open to use as a bandage.

“Don’t bother.” You said as you moved your hand for him to put pressure on the wound. “It won’t kill me.”

He looked at the tear in your skin where blood was oozing out, right over your heart. “You should be dead.”

“That would make your day wouldn’t it.” You snorted before whimpering in pain.

He winced at the agony in your tone and he felt guilty for being an asshole to you since you joined. He never liked working with women, not because he thought they couldn’t be agents but because at the end of the day he was raised in a time where men were the providers and protectors, it was something he still clung to.

“I don’t want you dead, y/n. I didn’t want you out here getting hurt.” He admitted as he held the material over your wound. “How?”

“You didn’t read my file did you.” He shook his head ruefully and you tapped your knuckles against your chest, hearing the hard thud of the metal that had been laid beneath your skin. “I was Hydra’s human shield, gold titanium alloy. You didn’t think you were the first to escape their control?”

The bleeding was already slowing down as the serum they had given you sped up the healing process and you brushed aside his hand so he could see the skin knitting itself back together. In a few days it would be a scar just the rest that littered your chest as you took the body shots meant for other people.

Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed and deep lines set in his forehead as he saw just how many bullets you had taken, he felt terrible for being the reason another one marred your beautiful skin. He also knew that the shot would have certainly killed him, the calibre of the bullet more than the thin vest he wore could have stopped. Helping you to your feet, he wrapped his arm around your waist and took your weight. “Thanks, doll. I owe you one.”

“Anytime.” You said with a small smile, glad that the machismo had eased and something had shifted. “So do you trust me?”

He gave a small nod that sent your smile widening. “I’m not about to give you my bank account number but there’s not many people who would take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t recommend it. Just because it won’t kill me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch.” You chuckled and stopped as a man came out of hiding with a gun to the package's head.

“Don’t move or I will kill him.” The soldier threatened as he dug the gun further into the scientist's head until he cried out with pain. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Do you want the honours or can I?” You asked under your breath, knowing his enhanced hearing was superior to yours.

The question would have been surely cut down even five minutes ago but now you saw the corner of his lips tip up. “All yours, doll.”

Your fingers were already hanging at your side and it was simple to reach the handle of the kunai, sliding it out of its sheath before you flicked your wrist faster than he could see. The dagger hurtled through the air but before the man could react and pull the trigger, the knife sliced through his finger and wedged between the trigger and the gun so it couldn’t be squeezed.

“Any other surprises I should know about?” Bucky asked as you both walked over to the soldier still trying to shoot his gun.

You kicked it far from his reach and checked the scientist was physically alright before you winked at your partner. “You should’ve read the file, Barnes.”

“I’m sure there’s something that's not in it.” He countered, grabbing the soldier and using his own cuffs to restrain him to a pillar for the authorities to deal with. “Give me something.”

“Chocolate, roses and red wine.”

“Yeah?” He smirked to himself. “Okay.”

“What’s the basket for?” Steve asked as he stepped out onto your floor and saw it sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.

“I dunno, it was there when I woke up.” You shrugged as you continued to eat your breakfast and Steve wandered over to look at the tag hanging from the bow.

“It’s for you.” He said with a tight lipped smile and you frowned as you placed your bowl in the sink and took a look for yourself.

Sure enough, your name was written but it had no name under the sender so you tugged on the bow and let the wrapping fall away. You knew exactly who it was from when you found the inside of the basket full of boutique chocolates and a few small bottles of various red wines. Steve was completely thrown as he watched your smile grow as you picked up the card inside, I didn’t forget. The elevator opened again and you both turned to find Bucky stepping out, a huge bouquet of roses and the look of someone caught red handed.

“Steve, uh, what are you doing here?” Bucky froze, the doors starting to close on him before he jumped out of the way.

“I was looking for you, but I’ll come back later.” He said as he tried to hide his smile and walked past Bucky with a pat on the shoulder and whisper of encouragement.

“This is a 180 compared to yesterday morning.” You teased as you pulled out a chocolate and popped it in your mouth.

“I have a lot to apologise for.” He said as he held out the roses, the floral scent sweetening the room. “I was a bit of an asshole.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” You laughed as you took them from his hand, touching the soft petals with your nose. “But this is a very good start.”

He looked at your chest, the wound almost completely healed but bruising still spread across your skin. “How about dinner?”

“And a movie.” You bartered.

“It’s a date.”

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Fuck !!! You need to make multiple part for the lioness I fucking love this fic

I freaking loved this! Always a sucker for a badass reader, I mean it’s not always the men? Yk? Hehe kidding aside, I just had this idea, a prequel per se, for lioness. Ofc it’s up to u if u wanna do it!

Maybe the reader (I’m not sure what background is fitting/good), they viewed her as Bucky’s trophy wife before. Weak without Bucky, good for nothing but an eye candy, bed warmer, sexualizing her, saying bucky would be bored of her after the long run (Bc that’s what they do) basically every misogynistic statement a man could throw at a woman.

And well, yeah, women do try their shot with Bucky. Men also try to get her from Bucky. Thinking that their relationship is nothing but shallow and physical.

NOT knowing that Bucky is the king because of his Queen. NOT knowing that the brain of everything is her. not knowing that if Bucky is brutal, then she is worse. not knowing that without her, Bucky wouldn’t have his empire. Bucky might be a strong and wise man, but behind him before (Bc now she do be in front), was an even stronger and wiser woman of his. And not knowing that they see each other as equal, love each other through and through, they did something to put the woman behind, right in front of their eyes.

She isn’t called a lioness just for her beauty and grace. Her wit, cunningness, and aggressiveness did. So yeah, maybe this could prompt a prequel? HEHE thank you so much if u do (or don’t) pursue this! Really love ur writing 💗

Things got a bit bloody here, even for me...but I love it 🖤

Lioness - The Prequel || Mafia!Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, oral (f rec), murder, torture, violence, swearing WC: 2.7k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one

You hadn’t known he was the owner of the nightclub when you had spotted Bucky watching you from the VIP tables. It was nothing new, men always liked to watch you. You had turned so many of them away as you danced alone under the strobe lights but still more tried to lay there hands on your waist or the ballsier ones went straight to your ass. The current man had done just that, two of his palms firmly planted on your ass and pulling your body against his.

“Look at you playing all hard to get, baby.” He purred in your ear as you turned your face away from his with a grimace, the sharp tang of vodka on his breath. “Don’t be shy, ass like this is just begging to be touched.”

“Don’t touch me.” You rolled your eyes before pushing him back so you could see his glazed eyes. “It’s not gonna happen, so fuck off before someone gets hurt.”

You sighed as you saw the resolve settle in his face, the tic of his jaw as he decided what to do with your insult. His hand grabbed your bare arm and gripped it painfully, his nails digging into your skin as he dragged you towards the mens bathroom. His foot kicked the door open and he shouted at two men using the urinals to find somewhere else to piss.

“I just want it noted for the record that I did warn you.” You said as he pushed you back into the tiled wall.

The second his hands moved to unbuckle his belt your fist jabbed out, straight into his trachea so he couldn’t scream for help. You swiped his legs out from under him and since he was finding it already hard to breath you straddled his chest, unsheathing the knife that was strapped to your thigh.

“You know what, I think you need a lesson in consent.” You said as you dragged the blade down his cheek, a thin red streak appearing in its wake. “Let’s role play, I’ll be you. Do you want me to break your nose?”

He tried to talk as he shook his head but his crushed trachea left him silent.

“See, a normal, decent person would take that as a no, but I’m being you. So…” You closed your fist and punched him, feeling the satisfying crunch of his nose under your knuckles. “Now, how's your lesson going?”

”Good, good. That was the warm up.” His silent tears were mixing with the blood running down his face and you smiled sadistically as the door opened to reveal the man who had been watching you. “How about a castration?”

“Not the pick up line I would have used.” The stranger said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He watched you in the mirror as he meticulously washed his hands and took care to get around the thick white gold rings he wore.

“What are you doing here?” You frowned as he leant against the wall, tilting his head as watched your fingers twirling your blade, a nervous habit as much as just looking good.

“This is the mens room, doll, what are you doing here?” He shot back with a smirk. “You see when I heard about a man dragging the sexiest woman in my club into the bathrooms, this was not what I was expecting to find.”

“Ah, you’re the kind of guy that likes to swoop in and save the damsel in distress.” You chuckled, pressing the blade of your knife to the man's throat when he tried to buck you off. “Did you think I would fall on my knees for you, my white knight and suck your cock?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” He winked before pulling a gun from behind his back. “But my priority is making sure no one else thinks they can come into my house and pull the shit he did. So, leave him with me.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a question, doll.”

“I don’t take orders from anyone.” You stared at each other for what felt like hours as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and you felt your body heating up under his blue eyes. “But maybe we can come to another arrangement?”

His smirk grew and you squirmed, forgetting for a moment that you were still sitting on some stranger's chest. “What do you have in mind?”

He watched you rise and he couldn’t help thinking you had the grace of a cat and the fire of a huntress as you stepped over the half conscious man and closer to him. He hadn’t seen anyone that came close to being as sexy as you when you wiped your blade across your dress and slipped it back into your thigh sheath, a hint of your lace panties teasing him. “Let me kill him, you can take all the credit and, well, I’m sure you can think of something you want.”

You stood toe to toe him as you slipped his gun from his hands and placed it on the marble vanity. His cock was already straining against his pants and you sighed as you imagined how big it was from how it pressed against you as you reached up to whisper in his ear.

“So what do you say?”

Two Years Later

“I’m telling you baby, you gotta do something to shake it up. We lost two blocks to the Don last month and now they think the fucking own the city.” You said as you reclined back in your chair getting more frustrated that you couldn’t just waltz into the gentlemans club where the Don and his Capos met monthly - but apparently it was hallowed ground, neutral, bullshit. “I would paint the walls with his fucking brain.”

Bucky chuckled as he tipped your chin back so that he could kiss your filthy mouth. “Fuck I love it when you get murderous.”

He turned your chair to face him as he dropped to the floor and pushed your legs wide. You watched his adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed at the sight, your panties nowhere to be seen and your pussy ready to be eaten, you were always so ready for him. His hands pulled you forward and straight into his waiting mouth, his tongue delving between your slit.

“The cars are ready.” Steve's voice called from outside the office door.

“Ten,” you moaned as Bucky eased two fingers inside you and curled them up as his tongue pressed over your clit, “minutes. Bit busy.”

You heard his exasperated sigh but ignored it as his footsteps retreated down the hall so you could finish before needing to leave. Bucky chuckled as he heard his best friend stopping someone else from trying to interrupt and the vibration sent a delicious wave of pleasure up your spine.

“Oh fuck, that’s at it baby.”

Your fingers laced in his hair as you rolled your hips against his mouth, chasing the release he teased in front of you. Your head fell back as his lips sealed around your clit and sucked it just how you liked and his fingers rolled against your g-spot, the final straw that sent you head first into your orgasm. The leather of your chair creaked as your body jerked with sensitivity and Bucky continued to suck until you pushed his head away with a cry. You slammed your legs shut as you tried to stop your head from spinning and he grinned happily as he wiped away your juices running down his chin.

“Fuck, now I have to change.” You smirked as you rose from the chair and felt the back of your dress damp from the liquid that had escaped.

“No panties.” Bucky stated as he watched you walk on trembling legs to the door. “I want to know there’s cum running down your thighs.”

You crossed your finger over your heart and raced upstairs to change, keeping your promise before meeting Bucky at the front door. You kissed him as his hands ran over your body, smiling when he felt no panty lines under the material. “That’s my girl.”

Bucky could feel the anger radiating from you the entire meeting, his hand under the table gently squeezing yours as your fingers itched to reach for your knife. He knew you too well. The car ride home had been silent as you watched the mental playback with hindsight 20/30. You could finally see it clearly, that you would never be taken seriously by the men of this world, not unless they saw firsthand what you were capable of.

“I’m sick of them looking at me like I’m just there to smile and giggle.” You growled the second the bedroom door closed. “I tell them one thing, they laugh. You tell them the same thing, they fucking take note. I am sick of it.”

“This whole thing was your idea, this agreement.” Bucky pointed out as he tore his restricting tie from his neck and cornered you at the edge of the bed.

“Fuck the agreement.” You huffed and fell back on the bed. “I want to renegotiate.”

His body covered yours as he caged you between his arms and his blue eyes glimmered with excitement, probably remembering how fun the first negotiation had gone. “Anything you wish.”

“That’s not a negotiation, that’s submitting.” You pointed out as your fingers unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“It’s respecting my queen.” He said as his lips trailed along your neck. “This empire wouldn’t be what it is without you, so tell me what you want.”

“Everything.”

“You’ll have to be more specific, my love.” His lips were leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone, slowly making his way down the valley of your breasts and leaving your thoughts scattered. “Tell me.”

“I want to cut the little whores who even think about touching you.” You smiled at the thought. “I want to carve my name onto them so they never forget who they crossed. And that would just be for pleasure, for business I would make a statement so loud that no one would ever fuck with us again, they would hear my name and tremble.”

“You want to be the bogeyman.”

“No, the whole problem that the people in this world have with me is that I am not a man. I want to show them that their misogynistic ideals will be their downfall.” Your chest rising rapidly as you were impassioned with your statement. “I want to be something fierce, something feminine, something…more than any man could be.”

Bucky licked his lips as he watched your eyes shine like they did when you were worked up,  the way you fixated on your goal like a predator and her prey, a graceful, frightening huntress. “A lioness, The Lioness.”

“Lioness.” You tasted the sound on your tongue. “Hmm, they are fierce animals.”

“Feminine and graceful.” He added.

“And takes care of her king.”

“Sounds just like someone I know.” He smirked as he hovered above your lips. “My beautiful lioness.”

You couldn’t help smirking at the pout on your husband’s lips as he watched you descend the stairs. Tonight was the night you were going to make your real introduction into the criminal underworld and you would not be doing it in a dress.

“Pick that lip up baby, and I might let you find out if I’m wearing anything under this.” You teased as you straightened the perfectly tailored, stark white suit you wore with a plunging neckline, a sense of business with a hint of sexiness. “Are you ready?”

His eager smile and lick of his lips sent your blood pumping faster around your body as you reached the bottom step and he laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s fucking do it.”

It was carnage, beautiful carnage. The Don didn’t know what had hit him as you stepped through the doors to the Gentlemen's Club, the ‘no women permitted’ sign streaked red with the blood of the man who tried to stop you.

“What the fuck is this Barnes?” He had growled at Bucky who was leaning against the doorway behind you. “Get your puttana the fuck out of here.”

You kissed your lips at his insult and reached up your sleeve for the dagger that was sheathed to your forearm. “I think I need to teach you a lesson in manners.”

“She’s a really great teacher.” Bucky chuckled with a hint of his anger sneaking through. “First lesson, don’t call my wife a whore.”

“You have a problem, you come talk to me man to man, this is not how we do things.” The Don said as he moved behind his men, regretting the rule of no weapons on hallowed ground. His men outside had been armed but you have quickly slaughtered them, with Steve standing guard beyond Bucky in case more arrived.

“Well things have changed.” You said as you tossed the blade up and caught it. “And I personally think actions speak louder than words.”

The Don ordered his men to attack and, even though Bucky knew you could handle yourself, his arm tensed as he physically fought against his protective urge to move you behind him. You dodged the hand that tried to grab you, knocking it aside with the vambrace hidden beneath your sleeve before you glided your blade across his throat, the hot spray of blood staining your suit as he fell to your feet. Your Jimmy Choo’s looked like Louboutins as you stepped through the pool of blood and turned the heels red.

You had to shake your head at the Don, he had made the wrong choice with his Capos. These men were not fighters, they were only good with a gun and assumed their brute strength was enough on its own, without their weapons they were just little sacrificial lambs. Your clothes were drenched in the blood of his men as you reached his trembling form, the last of his man gurgling through the hole in his throat. Your knife had been wedged stuck in the spine of a gutless pig who had tried to turn and run. Without the blade you had resorted to killing the last man with a kick to the throat, your heel puncturing a painful hole.

“Please, please don’t kill me.” The Don begged as he wet himself where he stood. “You can have it all back, your territory, it’s yours, done.”

“Oh, I know.” You laughed. “And I will leave you alive.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He stammered as he fell to his knees and took your hand, kissing your wedding ring.

“Don’t mistake this as kindness.” You said as you backhanded him with the hand he had just kissed. “I want you to tell everyone what you witnessed tonight.”

“We want you to tell everyone that she isn’t just one of the mob wives, she’s my equal in every way.” Bucky stated as he stood by your side, his pupils blown with lustful thoughts as he watched you take everyone down. “She’s my fucking lioness.”

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Ugh I waaaant a buckyyy

i have a request if youre feeling up to it!! i love your writing and really appreciate your hard work.

I was thinking buck x reader, i def need some hurt/comfort in my life tbh. maybe a caretaker!reader who has a child she’s (or gn if you want) in charge of that runs into avengers and they all develop a relationship together? maybe reader is struggling financially or mentally and avengers + specifically bucky is able to help them with their situation? im not sure if this is something youre up to but if you are I’d really appreciate it! thanks again 🤗

Reader and Bucky are just two cute awkward people being cute and awkward together 😊

When Worlds Collide || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, panic attack, blood/injury, fluff WC: 3.2k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“Lily, time to go.”

You waited at the front door as you slipped your shoes on and checked you had everything in your bag for your shift at the hospital. You checked the clock hanging from your chest pocket and saw the seconds counting down the grey zone of cutting it close to just plain late.

“Lily, we are going to be late.”

The hurried stomps of your half sister's feet bounded down the stairs and you looked at the six year old with narrow eyes. “Brushed your teeth?”

She nodded and you curled your finger to call her closer. “Say ahh.”

She exhaled and you screwed your face up at her morning breath before she laughed and ran back up the stairs to brush her teeth.

“Scrub them for two minutes, little gremlin!” You reminded her as you watched your clock and listened to the water in the sink to shut off.

This time she bounded down the stairs and swiped her backpack from your hands as she stepped out the door. She stopped as she reached the gate to see you locking the door and she had the cheek to tut at you with her hand on her hip. “Come in, y/n, you’re gonna make me late.”

You chased her out the gate and kicked away the stone that held it open before dodging the other people making their way to the busy bus stop at 7.30am on a Monday morning. You could see the bus already at the stop just past Lily’s school gates but you were still too far away and you knew you wouldn’t make it in time. The engine roared and smoke chugged from the exhaust as it blew past you and you dropped your head back as you cursed whoever had given you all the bad luck in the world.

You huffed with gritted teeth and looked back down from the sky and stepped right into the back of a man. You groaned as you dropped your bag and quickly knelt down to grab it as he did too, knocking your heads together before you fell back on your ass. “Fudgery duck!”

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, sorry.” He rushed as he grimaced at your sorry sight, your hand rubbing your forehead furiously as Lily laughed from the sidelines. “Did you say something?”

“She said fudgery duck, she says it when she really wants to say fuck but I’m around.”

“Thanks, Lily. Aren’t you late for school?” You groaned as you pulled yourself off the cold concrete, the man offering his gloved hand. “I think I’m okay, thank you, one concussion a day is my limit.”

Lily was waving back at you as she skipped inside the school gates and you took your time righting your scrubs and wiping the small stones from your butt. You plastered a smile on your face as you waved but the second she was out of sight it fell as you thought of how expensive a taxi to work would be. Things had been tight before you had a child in your care but now you were hanging on by a thread, every cent you made went on the bills and Lily.

“Are you alright?” The man asked as he thought you were about to cry. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No!” You rushed, the mere thought of it almost bankrupting you. “I mean, no thanks, I’m fine. Sorry, I should have been watching where I was walking.”

He shrugged off your apology and the movement pulled his sleeve up past the end of his gloves, a glint of metal peeking out.

“You’re the Avenger, Bucky, right?” You asked as you began to remember why he looked familiar. “May I?”

He looked dubious but he held his hand out and you couldn’t resist getting a closer look. The metal wasn’t cold as you had expected but it wasn’t warm to touch either and you brushed his jacket sleeve up higher so you could see how the plates moved when you bent his fingers.

“Wow, this is amazing.” You shook your head in wonderment before thinking you had probably made him uncomfortable as he stared at you. “Sorry…”

He seemed to realise he was staring and looked away with his own apology. “Most people seem pretty freaked out by it, except this kid from Queens.”

“I see a lot of vets with limbs amputated at the VHA where I work, I wish we had this sort of technology.” You sighed and dropped his hand. “And I am late. It was nice meeting you.”

The crowds were thinning as the school bell rang and more buses arrived but none of them would be heading where you needed to go.

“Do you need a ride?” Bucky offered as he watched that forlorn look pass over your face again. “It's the least I can do for headbutting you.”

You normally wouldn’t accept a ride from a stranger but he was an avenger, that meant he had to be good surely, and you had been late so often you were on your last warning. With a small grateful nod he pointed to a parking lot across the street and you walked quietly alongside him.

“Thank you for doing this, you probably have way more important things to do than be my taxi.”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “This is much better than going to see my therapist. I mean…that sounds bad…I’m not crazy, just so you know, it’s just something we have to do for work.”

“Relax, I’m not judging.” You chuckled as he fidgeted with his car keys. “I’m sure saving the world is pretty traumatic, I think I would be more worried if you didn’t need therapy.”

He was transported back to his younger days when he saw the men return from World War I and wondered how different their lives would have been had they had therapy back in those days, they didn’t even have it for the soldiers who survived World War II.

“You’re probably right.” He muttered as he unlocked his car. “Where to?”

“James J. Peters.” You said as you took a seat in the extremely clean car. “Just head straight up Grand Concourse.”

“You were going to take the bus all the way across New York?” He frowned.

You shrugged as you turned your attention out the window and mumbled under your breath. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

One word. Five letters. That was all it took to send your heart racing into despair and you could feel the panic rising as you pushed the doors open and ran back into the parking lot you had just left. Your beg slipped from your arm as you sat heavily on the curb wondering what you had done so wrong in a past life to repeatedly have shit dumped on you.

Fired. Fired. Fired.

You heard a car door close in the parking lot but you didn’t even have the strength to find somewhere private to cry as you didn’t know how you were going to put food on the table next week. You had taken Lily in because there was no one else, if you couldn’t feed her she would have to go into the foster system and that thought sent a loud sob escaping your chest. She was family and she got on your nerves most days but she was your little gremlin and you didn’t want to lose her.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

You heard Bucky’s soft voice and let pull you up off the curb as you leant into his side and cried. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We will start with not sitting on the sidewalk for a third time.” He tried to make you smile as he opened the car door and put you on the passenger seat. “What happened?”

“I was late again.” You sighed as you hiccupped. “They f-fired me.”

He reached across you as he opened the centre console then the glove compartment. “There’s gotta be tissues somewhere…”

“Shouldn’t you know? Isn’t this your car?”

“It’s one of the communal ones from work.” He answered as he looked in the back and found a napkin someone had missed when it was cleaned. “I think this hasn’t been used.”

You snorted a laugh that turned to a cry as you accepted the white napkin that looked clean and blew your nose. “I can’t take it anymore. One fucking thing after another. I just can’t.”

Your rambling turned to panic as your mind returned to Lily and you could practically see the CPS agents knocking on your door to take her away. Your vision narrowed as you imagined them having to carry her out because your little gremlin had fight in her and if she didn’t want to go she would do everything she could to stay.

“Y/n, look at me.” Bucky called out and snapped his fingers in front of your face.

Your head turned but it felt like you were sitting at the back of a subway and watching the front of the train bend around the corner, it was a complete disconnection from what was in front of you.

“How old is Lily?”

You frowned as you watched his lips move, the sound reaching your ears moments later. “Six.”

“When’s her birthday?”

“May 29th.” You answered quicker this time as your brain caught up. “Why are you so nosy?”

His lips twitched as he sighed with relief. “You were having a panic attack. Guess therapy taught me something after all.”

You were surprised you had gone so long without a panic attack already, you knew it had been bound to happen and you were thankful that Bucky was able to spot it. You could feel he was surprised when you hugged him but after a moment he put his arm loosely around you too.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home or I was going to run some errands…we could keep each other company?” He offered as you let him free of the hug.

The thought of sitting alone at home with your thoughts sounded like a recipe for disaster but since you no longer had income you didn’t want to have to pay for a babysitter if you didn’t have to. “Lily finishes at 3, do you think we will be back by then?”

He looked at his watch and nodded before walking around the car and heading back to the east side of the city. Over the next four hours Bucky worked hard to keep you distracted and even bought you lunch, despite your best attempts to pay for your own food. Unfortunately it was time to face reality as he made the journey back to your neighbourhood and you sighed heavily at the weight that burdened your shoulders.

“Look, a smart woman like you is going to snap up a job no problem.” Bucky tried to reassure you as he came to a stop outside your house. “There must be plenty of places that need a nurse.”

“Yeah but they all have night shifts. I can’t leave Lily alone and I sure as hell can’t afford a night sitter.” You could feel yourself getting worked up about it all over again until Bucky’s gloved hand came to rest on yours with a squeeze.

“We’ll figure something out, alright.”

You didn’t want to sound ungrateful so you kept your mouth shut and just nodded, but you had no idea how he could help you, he barely knew you. “Do you want to come in for a coffee?”

He looked at the time and saw there was still half an hour before you had to pick up Lily so he turned the engine off and you unlocked the gate. He frowned as he passed the car sitting on cinder blocks in your driveway, the wheels missing.

“They couldn’t have just stolen the whole car.” You commented as you found your house key. “At least then the insurance would’ve paid out.”

You were already in the kitchen by the time Bucky entered the house and you called out to him so he knew where to find you.

“I just wanted to apologise for taking up your whole day.” You said as you leant against the countertop. “I’ve probably put you off helping someone ever again.”

His smile was genuine as he shook his head. “It’s about the most normal day I have had in years.”

“You and I have very different ideas on what a normal day is.” You laughed. “Bingeing terrible tv, blasting music and cleaning the house, that's normal.”

His nose wrinkled your idea of a normal day and you grabbed the remote for the stereo, hitting play on the last CD that was still in it. It was one your mom’s from the 80’s and you laughed at the unimpressed face Bucky had for the techno tune.

“Note to self - he doesn’t like the 80’s.” You teased as you hit stop and poured the coffee that was ready. “I’ll sell you on them, just give me some time.”

You were just walking home after taking Lily to school when you noticed a large truck pulling in front of your drive. You were about to tell them to move when the door opened and Bucky jumped out of the driver's seat.

“Uh, what’s going on?” You frowned as he waved you over and opened the back door. “What are you doing?”

“About the only thing he is good at.” A man said behind you and you spun around to see Captain America smirking. “Heavy lifting.”

“Sam, this is y/n, y/n this is Sam.” Bucky introduced as he pulled a pallet of tyres and rims out of the back of the truck.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Sam grinned as he held out his hand. “He hasn’t shut up since he came home last night.”

Your ears burned at his words but you couldn’t dwell on it too long before a quiet woman joined you, her eyes darting around everyone like they were assessing you before she smiled.

“You must be y/n, I’m Wanda.”

Her hand was warm as you shook hers and it reminded you of holding your mom’s hand as you crossed the street as a child. Shaking the odd feeling off, you looked down at your yoga pants and baggy shirt, thankful you had even changed out of your pyjamas before leaving the house. “I, um, wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it, why don’t we go inside and relax while the boys get your car fixed,” she suggested and you found your feet leading the way, “have a little girl talk.”

“Is that your power? Making me feel comfortable?” You asked as you sat beside her on the couch.

“Gosh, no.” She laughed and held her hand up so you could see it glow with a red mist. “This happens when I use my power.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s also deadly.” She sighed and dropped her hand.

Your eyes drifted out to the window where Bucky was lifting your car off the blocks and Sam was putting the wheels on, your voice a wistful whisper. “The two often go hand in hand.”

“So, you and Bucky?”

You put your herbal tea down on the coffee table with a scoff. “Not very smooth, Wanda. I only met him yesterday and we literally butted heads.”

“Well you must have knocked some sense into him, I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so much.”

A proud smile graced your lips at the thought of him smiling, he had been so kind to you yesterday in a way no one else had. Suddenly a cry of pain rang out and you leapt from the couch to run outside and saw Sam clutching his hand, blood running down his forearm.

“Bucky, can you go to the kitchen and get the first aid kit from under the sink?” You asked and he took off, jumping clear over the steps instead of climbing them while you helped keep pressure on the gash across his arm and led him inside.

“Damn tyre iron slipped.” He groaned as he sucked the air through his teeth.

“Please don’t sue me.” You half joked, but he had been injured on your property.

“Ha!” He laughed, making you relax. “Maybe I should sue Cyborg for being a pain in my ass.”

“Who's holding the first aid kit huh, punk?” Bucky asked as he stood in the doorway, holding it just out of reach.

“Are they always like this?” You asked Wanda as they bickered like siblings.

“Always.” She laughed before looking at Bucky. “He’s going to bleed on her couch if you don’t hand it over.”

He quickly crossed the room and placed the bag on the coffee table where you opened it and pulled on a pair of gloves first. You pulled Sam’s hand away and saw it was still bleeding but replaced his hand with a quikclot bandage.

“You’re going to need a few stitches.” You grimaced. “How’s your pain tolerance?”

“Does Bucky sized count?” He shot back with a wry smile.

“I can stitch it here or there’s an emergency room a few blocks away.” You said before the two men could start another argument.

“Here’s fine. I’ll be fine.” He said as he gritted his teeth.

“All done.” You promised as you tied off the last stitch and covered the wound up.

“Took it like a champ.” Bucky chuckled.

Sam cleared his throat and wiped his eyes with the collar of his shirt. “I just got some dust in my eye man.”

You tidied up the mess of bloody gauze and other supplies you had used before packing away the first aid kit. “I think that’s enough surprises for one day.”

“I actually have one more.” Bucky said as he tipped his head towards the kitchen and you followed him through. “I had a talk with Mrs Stark and there’s a nurse's position available in the medic bay, she’ll want to see your qualifications but if you send her the details, the job is yours.”

“What?” You asked dumbly as your mouth fell open. “You did this?”

He suddenly looked unsure of himself and scratched at his neck. “No, I mean, yes. Should I not have?”

You were absolutely stunned by everything he had done for you. You threw your arms around his waist and felt tears of joy fill your eyes and thanked him over and over.

“I know it's a bit far to travel by bus so I thought it would be easier if we got your car running for you.”

“Wait, you didn’t hurt Sam as an audition of some sort?” You pulled back to look at his aghast face.

“I mean I sometimes imagine it but…”

“I heard that.” Sam laughed.

“Ok, good. Not that you imagine it obviously, you should probably mention that to your therapist.” You joked before sobering. “Thank you, Bucky, you have no idea what this means to me.”

“You can tell me about over lunch, at work, on Monday.”

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Wait now I want a part 2 of Family First or just how everyone else would react or even how Bucky told them he needed help in the first place like how do you explain that????

I hope this gives you some closure 😊 We may come back to the family in the near future and see how they are getting on with public life.

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two || prequel blurb

Family First [Behind the scenes story]

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mentions of dead bodies WC: 1.9k

“Sir, I believe someone is trying to bypass my mainframe.” Friday announced as she interrupted the weekly team meeting. “Correction, they have bypassed my mainframe.”

Tony leapt up from his seat at the head of the table and to the control panel of the door, every electrical system was connected to Friday so he double tapped the screen to extend it to full sized. His fingers danced furiously over the screen trying to find what the hackers were after and found the bug in the personal files of his team.

“Shit.” Tony sighed. “Friday, I’m putting you to sleep until I can remove the bug.”

“Manual override complete, goodnight Mr Stark.”

“I need everyone to call your families, get them here ASAP.” Tony ordered as he tossed a basket onto the table. “Until Friday’s clear, don't use your cell phones, hand them over guys. We are going old school. Where did I put those flip phones? Frid-oh.”

“Why do we have to call our family?” Clint asked. “What were they after?”

Tony sighed and gripped the back of his chair as he stood behind it. “They stole the details of your next of kin.”

Bucky’s chair screeched as he stood up abruptly and he looked at his cell phone ringing in the middle of the basket. “I need to take that.”

The restraint in his voice wasn’t missed by some of the team but Tony just shook his head. “Can’t let you do that.”

“You don’t understand.” He growled and Steve stood up to place a calming hand over his shoulder.

“Just give us a minute.” He said as he pulled Bucky away from the table to talk quietly in the corner. “It’s y/n isn’t it, on the file. I thought it was me.”

“It was but she’s my wife, Steve.” Bucky sighed, his eyes flicking back to the phone that was lit up with another call. “And now I might have put her in danger. I need to answer that call.”

“Ok, how about I grab Sam and we go and pick up the girls together, get them somewhere safe.” Steve planned and clapped his best bud on the shoulder.

The plan was set but the second his phone rang with a ringtone, the phone number saved to override silent mode, he lost all thoughts of everything except saving you. Steve tried to block him from reaching the basket on the table but Bucky threw him to the floor and jumped across the table, grabbing the phone and putting it to his head instantly.

“Are you okay?” He rushed as he turned his back on everyone else but the silent room left most of the team able to hear you too.

“Bucky, someone’s here.” His gut clenched at the panic he could hear in your voice, how you sounded when you were being brave and putting on a smile when you were really holding back tears.

“I need you and Sarah to go down to the basement. Lock yourself inside and don’t come out for anyone but me, Steve or Sam.” He said as calmly as he could while he left the room, ignoring the stares he was getting from his team as he sprinted his way to the hangar.

“What’s going on baby?”

“Someone hacked us, they stole almost every piece of information on each of us.” He admitted as he lashed out punching his fist into the hangar wall beside him. “I’m so fucking sorry, I think they know about you, about Sarah.”

The line went silent for a moment and his hand trembled as he looked to make sure the call was still connected. “We are going to go treasure hunting downstairs ok sweetie.”

“That’s not daddy is it?” Sarah’s quiet voice was just picked up by the microphone and he almost crushed the phone as he heard his baby girl’s scream, swearing he would kill everyone that stepped foot in his house.

“Daddy’s coming, Sarah.” He promised as the line began to crackle, knowing they were almost in the basement where it was safe but no cell signal. “I love you both so much. I’m on my way.”

“We love - too.”

The screen of his phone cracked as his fist held it too tight waiting for the hangar doors to open and the rest of his team caught up except Steve who had stuck by his side.

“You have a family.” Natasha stated as she followed him through the narrow gap of the hangar door and towards the quinjet. “And Sam and Steve know.”

“Yes.” He growled and turned to see the others looking at him expectantly. “Can we not do this now?”

“On board, now.” Tony ordered as he pointed to the jet. “You can explain on the way.”

Everyone strapped into the seats except the super soldiers who stood at the top of the ramp, ready to dive out the second they were close enough.

“We need an address.” Natasha said as the quinjet was ready for take off.

Bucky strode over to the panel and entered his home address, set in the countryside where he foolishly thought it would be away from the drama and threat.

“Hmm, pictured you for the suburban Brooklyn type.” She commented as her and Clint piloted the jet towards the address. “Three minutes ETA.”

“Get talking.” Tony said as he crossed his arms.

“Leave it Tony, it can wait until after.” Steve asserted, his own arms crossing as tensions rose.

“I want to know who I am saving.” He countered.

“What does it matter, saving people is what we do.”

“She’s my wife, y/n, and Sarah’s our daughter.” Bucky confessed, not wanting another fight in the team over him. “We met in Bucharest.”

“When you were still Hydra. Is she Hydra? Is that why you kept her a secret?” Tony asked, stepping closer with every accusation and Steve just caught Bucky before he could attack.

“She’s not fucking Hydra!” Bucky growled as he pushed Steve away. “She has nothing to do with any of this, that is why I kept her and Sarah secret. I thought they would be safe.”

Bucky saw his house coming up ahead and hit the button to release the ramp. He had either explained enough that the team would help him or he was going in alone, but nothing was going to stop him getting to you. Steve stepped up beside him and watched the familiar land pass by beneath them.

“You don’t have to get in the middle of things again, I can handle Tony on my own.” Bucky said.

“I’m with you till the end of the line pal.”

“Need a lift?” Sam asked as he stepped up beside them and grabbed the back of their clothes. “Or do you want to face dive again?”

“Let’s go.” Steve nodded and the three of them jumped off the ramp.

“I have some bad news.” He murmured quietly as he ran his hand up and down your arm and kissed your forehead.

“You got blood on the carpet.” You tried to joke but your voice failed to hold any humour.

“That too.” He said, the ghost of a smile tipping up at your attempt. “There’s some more people I want you to meet.”

“Who else came with you?” You asked, worried about even more people knowing but grateful for their help nonetheless. You watched him chew his lip and knew it was bad before he even answered.

“Everyone.”

You took a deep breath and nodded as you realised there was no escaping this and maybe, just maybe, it might be a good thing. Your finger brushed over his cheek and cleared the speck of someone's blood that had landed there and you sighed as he captured your lips, all the fear and doubt evaporating with it.

“I don’t know what I would have done…” he whispered as he took in every beautiful feature he loved about you before doing the same to his daughter who had cried herself to sleep in his arms.

“You don’t have to think about it baby, you made it in time, you saved us.” You said softly as you cradled his face.

“Oh sorry.” Steve came to a halt as he saw the three of you curled up on the floor. “I just wanted to make sure you found them.”

“Can you take Sarah?” Bucky asked as he gently shifted his sleeping daughter.

Steve hooked his shield onto his back and lifted her up easily and you were grateful she was sleeping for this next part. You didn’t want her seeing the bodies that littered your house as you walked through, even you felt your stomach turning as you spotted the first one at the base of the stairs.

“Oh god.” You gasped as you saw his lifeless eyes and spun away, burying your face in Bucky’s chest.

“Close your eyes, doll.” He soothed as his hands gripped your hips and he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you screwed your eyes shut and focused on listening to his soft murmurs in your ear. “You can open them now.”

You blinked as the bright afternoon sun blinded you and it was hard to imagine that it could still be a beautiful day despite the horror that lay only yards away inside your house, the weather had no right to be so perfect. Your feet touched down on solid ground and you could see half a dozen shadows before you even turned in Bucky’s arms. You knew who each of them were, just because you were a secret in their lives, Bucky never kept anything secret when he got home. You had heard gossip and stories about every one of them and it felt like you should already be friends, but they didn’t know you.

“Hi.” You offered a small wave with your greeting and you looked at Steve with Sarah curled up in his arms. “Thank you for saving us.”

“It’s no problem.” Tony smiled and shrugged as Steve and Bucky looked at him, rolling his eyes as Bucky’s stare lingered longer. “What?”

“Ignore him, we do.” Nat grinned as she stepped forward and held her hand out to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She gave a little laugh as she let your hand drop. “Can say the same, but we will change that now, won’t we?”

You weren’t quite sure where you stood with her, the politeness came with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Thankfully Sam stepped in and pulled you into a hug.

“Forget her, she’s just upset that she was the last to find out.” Sam joked. “I’m glad you’re all okay.”

“Thanks to you.” You said as you looked around the group. “I would offer you something to eat but…I think we are going to be renovating.”

“You’re welcome to stay at the Compound in the meantime. There’s plenty of room. And, then you can tell us your real secret.” You frowned at Tony as he pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and popped them on his face, feeling Bucky stiffen behind you. “How have you put up with Bucky all this time? No seriously, I need to know.”

“That’s something we all need to know.” Sam laughed and the tension disappeared so fast you thought you imagined it.

You bit your lip as you tried not to laugh. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Prequel Blurb

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I genuinely thought this was gonna end bad I was prepared to cry

*gasps* empty inbox? well we can’t have that! just wanted to say thanks for churning out fics the way that you do. you’re a machine and i love reading your work.

do you ever think bucky would be able to hide his life with the reader away from everyone else? (with the exception of steve and maybe sam bc, well he’s sam ofc he’s gonna find out). he tries his hardest to keep the two separate because he never wants to put you in danger with his work but one day he has to bring the 2 together (almost like a clint and laura in ultron type vibe).

if this sparks interest for a full fic i won’t mind but you could also answer with some short thoughts and i’d be more than thrilled xx

*fans face* too much, too much, you're gonna make me cry! I don't know how to do anything half measure so you have a full fic my sweets xx

Family First || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mentions of injuries, guns, violence, fluff WC: 2.1k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Prequel Blurb

“Shh, sweetie, daddy will be home soon.” You cooed as your daughter cried for Bucky.

The ice pack on her ankle didn’t seem to be helping but at least the bandage on her knee had stopped the bleeding. You checked your phone once again, seeing he had read the message you sent and you cradled her head close to your chest. At least this latest injury wasn’t as bad as the time she broke her wrist falling out of a tree. You had to admit you didn’t handle that very well but it was the first serious injury your daughter had sustained. You had left a hysterical voicemail for him that really didn’t explain what had happened, only that you were rushing your daughter to hospital.

Bucky had charged in like he was about to face down a legion of aliens again, Steve and Sam right behind him. You weren’t sure who was more surprised, you at the fact he had brought friends from work or them at the fact he had a family. It was no secret being married to anyone in the Avengers was a risk but out of all of them, Bucky thought he had the biggest target because of who he used to be. After Bucky had seen that your daughter was safe, hurt but safe, he had introduced you to the men you had heard so much about and swore them to secrecy.

“You have a daughter?” Steve was still stunned at the revelation and his eyebrows were almost crushed together as the nurse had stepped out into the waiting area and called out her name.

“Sarah Barnes?”

Steve looked like he was going to cry when he realised Bucky had named her after his mom. They two men were still waiting there when she was released a few hours later with a bright pink cast covering her arm.

“Do you think Captain America and the Falcon could sign it, mommy?” She had asked, turning her bright blue eyes that she got from her father on you just like he did when he wanted you to say yes to something.

“Only if they want to.” You nodded with a small smile, leaning into your husband's embrace as you finally took a breath that the ordeal was over. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out.”

“It’s okay.” He had chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “I’m surprised we went this long without them finding out. I’m just glad you two are alright. When I heard you crying I thought…doesn’t matter, you’re both fine and that’s all that matters to me.”

You looked over at Sarah and saw she had climbed up onto the bench between Steve and Sam to regale the story that had led to her broken arm. You would not have thought that only three hours earlier she was a screaming mess and now she was anything but.

“Do you have to go back to work or do you want to invite them over for dinner?”

“If I have to eat another tv dinner I swear I’ll lose my mind.” Sam answered for them.

“I didn’t say you were invited.” Bucky shot back and you nudged your elbow into his ribs.

“You are both welcome to come. It’ll be nice to talk to someone who actually knows my husband exists and doesn’t think he is some fictitious character I made up.” You half joked and Sam gave you an odd look. “Parent teacher night last year. That really happened.”

His booming laugh filled the hallway and he held his hand up in apology to the nurses that looked his way disapprovingly before he clapped Bucky on the back. “Ouch, that has gotta hurt man.”

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sound of tyres crunching the gravel driveway filled the quiet countryside and up to the porch swing you were sitting on. You wiped away the latest tears that clung to Sarah’s eyelashes and pointed to the dust trail snaking up the hillside.

“See there’s daddy.” You smiled. “I told you he would come.”

Your smile faltered as you saw the reflection of the roof and realised it was black but Bucky’s SUV was silver. Not wanting to alarm her, you scooped her up and carried her inside. “That dust is going to get everywhere if I don’t shut the door.”

You placed her down on the couch and shut the front door, quietly bolting the locks in place and opened the coat closet to get the gun and burner phone that was hidden inside. You hit the only number that was programmed and it was answered on the first ring.

“Bucky, someone’s here.” You rushed as you peeked through the curtain beside the door.

“I need you and Sarah to go down to the basement. Lock yourself inside and don’t come out for anyone but me, Steve or Sam.” You had known him long enough to recognise his voice when he was scared, god knows you had held him through the nights when he cried and he had that same voice now.

“What’s going on baby?”

“Someone hacked us, they stole almost every piece of information on each of us.” He admitted and you heard metal groan as he put his vibranium fist through it. “I’m so fucking sorry, I think they know about you, about Sarah.”

You shoved the phone into the crook of your neck and shoved the gun down the back of your waistband before scooping up Sarah from the couch. “We are going to go treasure hunting downstairs ok sweetie.”

“That’s not daddy is it?” She asked as she heard the car doors slam closed and squealed.

“Daddy’s coming, Sarah.” Bucky called out as he heard his daughters panic but she couldn’t hear, even you could barely make out his words as the cell signal cut out the further down the stairs you descended. “I love you - so much. I’m on - way.”

“We love you too.”

You prayed he heard you before the call dropped and you put Sarah down roughly as you heard the front door slam, it would take all your strength to push shut the heavy reinforced steel door. Sarah cried as her ankle gave way beneath her and she fell to the ground but you had to focus on shutting the door, it was all there was between you and the men you could hear ransacking your home.

“It’s okay, sweetie, I know it's scary, mommy’s scared too.” You rasped as you held back your tears and brushed Sarah’s dark hair back from her face.

She was a prettier feminine image of Bucky and sometimes you thought the only thing she got from you was your clumsiness. Especially now, she bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling and she hugged her arms around your neck as you sat in the corner, hidden by a barrier of moving boxes you had never ended up unpacking.

“It’s okay mommy, you don't have to be scared. Daddy’s going to save us from the bad men.”

There was not a single speck of doubt and you nodded your head, wishing you had the infallible hopes of a child but fear of reality kept grounding you with despair. It felt like hours but the phone showed it was only minutes later that the men descended the stairs and the loud rounds of gunfire rang out as they tried to shoot through the door. Sarah’s screams pierced your eardrums and you cradled her to your chest even tighter, wondering how long it would take for them to break through.

You were sitting ducks if they managed to get through and there were so many things you never got to say to Bucky. Dropping the useless burner phone, you pulled yours from your smartphone pocket and opened the voice recorder since it didn’t have any bars of signal either.

“Do you want to tell daddy how much you love him so we can play it for him when he gets here?” You asked as your voice broke at the lie and you hit the red record button.

“I can’t wait to see you bust in the door daddy! You’re going to kick their asses.” She growled proudly before you mouthed I love you. “I love you, daddy, you’re the bestest.”

“Mommy will be back in a minute.” You carefully moved her off you so that she was hidden behind the boxes and you walked to the opposite corner as you swallowed the lump in your throat and put the phone back up to your lips. “This is probably the worst time but I never thanked you. I know this is the worst case scenario you always feared and I wish I could see a way where we get out of this but…if this is it, I want you to know I don’t regret us. I know how guilty you feel and I know you will blame yourself but this was not your fault, baby, it was not your fault.

I knew the second I saw you in the market that you would change my life and I’m so glad you did, James. You gave me the world, you gave me your heart, you gave me a family. I-” You heard the door starting to groan and saw the hinges turning red as they torched their way through, panic gripping your last words and holding them hostage in your throat and you had to raise your voice over the sound of the blow torch. “I love you, so fucking much!”

“That’s a naughty word!”

You sobbed a laugh as you ended the recording and attached it to an email so that the moment your phone had signal it would complete its final mission to reach your husband. Tears blurred your vision as you pulled Sarah into your embrace and hummed the tune to hush little baby, just like you did when she was a baby.

Screams and gunfire broke out and you covered Sarah’s ears as her own cries added to the noise, her fear finally overriding the faith she had in her father. You could see the line of fire had almost completely made its way through the hinges on the door and the metal was groaning under the pressure of its weight pulling it down. Light broke through the room as the door gave way, the crash of it hitting the concrete floor threatening to blow your eardrums and it shook the foundations of the house.

“Sarah! Y/N!”

Sarah tore your hands away as she heard her dad’s voice and she tried to get up but you pulled her back down. “Wait! Wait for daddy to come to us, sweetie.”

You struggled to hold her still as she tried to run towards the voice that promised her safety but you didn’t know how many men stood between you and him. You pressed your lips to her forehead and begged her to stay silent until she finally quietened down. The gunfire was no longer constant and it was only every few breaths that one or two shots went off and you weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

Heavy footsteps descended the stairs and you heard a deeply relieved sigh before you caught sight of Bucky’s boots stepping into your line of sight. “DADDY!!!”

You let Sarah go as she jumped up, Bucky easily catching her and cradling her to his chest and he checked over her for any injuries, aside from the scrap of falling off her bike.

“Told you I would come for you babygirl.” He choked as he peppered her forehead with kisses. “Daddy’ll always come for his two best girls.”

You had sagged with relief at seeing him arrive and your eyes closed as you realised the terror was over. You opened your eyes as you felt movement and found Bucky sitting beside you and pulling you into his side so he could hug you both.

“I have some bad news.” He murmured quietly as he ran his hand up and down your arm and kissed your forehead.

“You got blood on the carpet.” You tried to joke but your voice failed to hold any humour.

“That too.” He said, the ghost of a smile tipping up at your attempt. “There’s some more people I want you to meet.”

“Who else came with you?” You asked, worried about even more people knowing but grateful for their help nonetheless. You watched him chew his lip and knew it was bad before he even answered.

“Everyone.”

Part Two/Parallel Story

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Yeah that’s right nobody can resist that guy

Love em' and leave em' is there going to be part 3 ?

There is now 🥵

Love ‘em and Leave ‘em [pt.3] || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, oral (f rec), unprotected sex WC: 1.8k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two

Every instinct of yours told you to run, to get out that door and get as far away as possible. On the other hand, a small ache in your chest hinted at a larger pain you would feel if you were to leave. This was breaking every rule.

“Here, you look like you could use it.” Bucky chuckled as he handed you a large glass of wine.

“I didn’t pick you for a wine drinker.” You frowned as you accepted the stem.

“There’s lots about me that would surprise you, if you got to know me.” He teased as he sat down on the couch beside you.

“What are we doing Bucky?” You sighed as you ran your finger around the ring of the glass just to keep your fingers occupied. “If you want to know more about me, I’ll give you my file but this just feels weird. I mean, we have had sex on this couch more times than I can count and now you want to casually chat?”

Bucky shrugged and stretched his arm over the back of the couch, fingers delicately trailing along your shoulder. “I’m not saying sex is off the table.”

“Well that’s a relief.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the only reason I’m here.”

He smirked as he raised the glass back to his lips, a small sip savouring the flavour while you tipped yours back and emptied it. He was right, you did need the drink if you were going to be having such a heavy conversation, especially for a Tuesday night.

“You don’t have to lie to me, doll. You knew the deal when you came here.”

“And now I am regretting it.” You muttered under your breath as you placed the empty glass on his coffee table. “I’m not sure what you are hoping to prove if I stay the night.”

“That you actually like me.”

“I do like you Bucky…when you're busy using your tongue to make me cum and not talking about feelings.”

He placed his glass on the table beside yours and pushed you back into the couch so he could spread your legs and fill the space between. His hands shoved your dress up to your hips and he ran his fingers over your mound, pressing the thin fabric into your heat. This was what you were hoping for on his return from his mission, this was the release you were chasing and that your fingers couldn’t replicate.

“Hmm, you can say you don’t like talking but look how wet you are.” He teased as he brushed the fabric aside and gathered your arousal on his fingers so you had to watch him lick them clean.

“Bucky…” You groaned as his touch disappeared and you squirmed with the need to feel it again.

“Don’t worry, I missed you just as much.”

His lips placed light kisses along the inside of your thigh, the tickle of his stubble sending goosebumps across the skin. The feeling was so foreign to you that it almost seemed to give you a brain freeze and you couldn’t remember how to breathe. Everything was alway hard and fast, passionate and violent sex. You didn’t know he could even show restraint let alone take his time to make love.

“What are you doing?” You gasped as the word crossed your mind.

“I’m getting to know you.” He breathed across your skin as he began to make his way up your other leg. “Every inch of you. Close your eyes.”

You stared at him for a moment, wanting to know if there was some trick but his intense blue orbs looked sincere so you blinked a few times before closing them completely. Your ears were sensitive to every sound, the blood rushing through your head, Bucky’s timed breathing or the quiet smacking of his lips as they kissed your skin. You heard it all and it left you dizzy.

A soft moan fell from your lips as they parted, your muscles relaxing under his hands that massaged them and still he kept bathing you with his kiss. Perhaps this was how the gods felt when they were worshipped, it was no wonder they had such big ego’s, the high was intoxicating. Spots of light flashed behind your eyelids as you felt him getting closer to where you needed him most.

“Lay down.” Bucky ordered and you moved so that you laid down the length of the couch. “Good girl.”

You waited for his touch, about to peek out from under your lashes when cold liquid drizzled across your stomach. A gasp jumped from your lungs at the sudden unexpected chill before Bucky’s tongue lapped it up, the sharp scent of the white wine added to the sensual experience. He could feel your body shiver and you felt the rumble of his deep chuckle more than you heard it.

His fingers dipped between your legs and he hummed in appreciation. “So fucking wet for me.”

“Please, Bucky, I need you.” You whined as you felt the throbbing deep in your core that hadn’t been reached since he left.

His resolve was breaking as he watched you squirm for him with desperation, your eyes screwed shut and mouth open as he worked his thick digits in and out of your pussy. Unable to deny either of you any longer, he pulled his hand away and told you to open your eyes. You blinked slowly as you were blinded by the bright lights above you and took the hand he offered you, pulling you onto shaky legs before leading you to his bed.

“I was half expecting rose petals scattered everywhere.” You joked as you looked around his tidy room.

“It crossed my mind.”

You weren’t sure if his smile said he was teasing or if he actually had thought about doing it. You weren’t sure what shocked you more, that you didn’t turn and run or that you would have found the notion…sweet. He seemed to notice you were getting lost in your head again and he dimmed the lights before pulling you to his chest and capturing your lips.

The kiss didn’t end, even as he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you over his lap, his cock straining against his jeans and you rolled your hips to get the friction you desperately needed. You both broke away with the need for oxygen and he laid back on the bed, tugging you higher up his body.

“You wanna cum babydoll, then get up here.” He said as he patted the space beside his head. “I missed your taste.”

You climbed his body at the promise of release and settled yourself over his face, his hot breath warming your damp thighs before his tongue reached your folds. Your head fell back in ecstasy as he explored your slit with his tongue, moaning to himself as he tasted your juices that were flowing from you before giving your sensitive pearl some love.

“God, that feels fantastic.” You moaned as your hips began to roll, pushing his head into the mattress and you tried to feel more. “I’m gonna cum all over your face, Buck.”

You couldn’t make out what he said with his mouth full but it sounded promising and when his hands cupped your ass and ground you against him even harder, you were done. Bolts of lightning splintered your body and you cried out as your legs began to tremble around his head, clit pulsing over his tongue as he let you ride out your orgasm against it.

Your head was spinning as you collapsed onto the mattress beside him, a lazy grin across your face from the sheer intensity of your orgasm, all thanks to the slow build up he had given you. You couldn’t believe both of you were still pretty much completely dressed with the exception of your panties laying discarded somewhere in his living room.

“You are way overdressed for the evening's activities.” You said as you tugged the button of his shirt open and began to pull the material up over his abs as he smirked.

“Plenty of time for that, we are just getting started.”

You were 99% sure if he wasn’t pinning you up against the shower wall that you would have sunk right down the drain as his hips pistoned into you. All you could do was hang on for dear life as another orgasm ripped through while you were meant to be getting clean. You had figured out his ploy was to fuck you until you couldn’t walk because then you couldn’t leave before spending the night and you had to give it to him, it was going to work.

“I can’t, Bucky, I can't, it's too much.” You whimpered as he dared to elicit another orgasm from you before he came.

“You’ve had more than this before.” He strained as his own release loomed over him.

“It’s different.” You admitted quietly as you bit your lip. “These are so fucking intense, please, Bucky I need a break.”

Your begging seemed to break him and his hips dug into you before he stayed buried as deep as he could get, his breathing in your ear and his cock throbbing in your cunt. “Fuuuck. Holy shit.”

Your arms hung limp around his neck as his strength kept you upright and you sighed with relief after enduring so much pleasure you couldn’t possibly take anymore. Gently placing you back on your feet, he checked your legs weren’t about to collapse under you before washing your body clean, then his. You might as well have been a ragdoll considering how boneless you seemed to be.

“You can rest now.” He said softly as he laid down beside you, your eyes heavy and already beginning to close. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you drifted off to sleep, body curling into his. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

A moment of peace washed over you as you opened your eyes, the morning rays casting golden light over the room. You thought that the shadows made Bucky’s jaw look even more defined and your finger traced the line before your mind caught up and you froze.

“Hey.” He smiled as he opened his eyes, the blue pale in comparison to how dark they were last night. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t trust your voice so you nodded, a thousand thoughts running through your head. There was the urge to escape, the urge to lie, the urge to stay and the urge to tell the truth - so many urges you didn’t know which would prevail. Opting for some place in between you accepted his kiss as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

“I will be.”

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