Summary: With the Queen Mother's health returning, plans are made for Loki and Thor to return to their kingdom.
Word Count: ~1k
Warnings: Eating disorders/problems, Past abuse, Past food insecurity. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is female, implied malnourished. No other physical descriptors used.
Previous--Next
Series Masterlist
"The illness itself has been deal with," Mage Beck tells the brothers. "But she will still need time to rest and recover her strength."
"Can your healing magic not do that?" Thor pushed.
Mage Beck lets out a small sigh at the question he hears so often. "If I were to use my magic to make your mother fully hale and hearty, it would not only be temporary but, when the magic itself faded, her body is much more likely to fail her because it has been overcompensating with the aid of the spells. Believe me, it is much safer for her to build her strength back naturally."
"I understand," Loki nods. Thor might have some more objections but if Loki is saying he understands, then he can pester his brother and not the other mage. "May we see her?"
"She is asleep, but you are allowed to sit next to her," Mage Beck confirms with a small bow.
The man hasn't finished speaking before Thor is rushing past. Loki makes sure to thank the fellow mage before heading in.
Tess gives you a look when you enter the kitchen well after most of the other staff. She's been gently urging you to eat more but you content yourself with the leftovers the other servants leave after the dinner rush. It's not as if you can eat much anyways. Besides, this way you don't have to deal with an overly crowded kitchen and the crush of other bodies against yours.
"I made sure to save you a slice of the crumble," Tess informs you. "Wasn't easy, but I know the blackberry are your favorite ones and the sugar'll do you some good."
"Thank you, Tess," you say with a hug.
"And after dinner you'll be practicing your letters?"
"Yes, Tess," you promise, your cheeks heating with embarrassment.
You know it isn't your fault your reading and writing are so poor. Your parents had never pushed your or your siblings to learn more than the basics. There were no books, no writing utensils. When Tess and Mage Beck learned of your low literacy they insisted on upgrading your education. Thankfully Lady Sarah, King Wilson's sister, was willing to teach you alongside her young sons.
"And if I spot any bit of berry on Max's face, you're gettin' a lecture," Tess warns.
That makes you smile. "I can promise I'll be eating the blackberry crumble by myself."
"Glad to hear it."
"My brother and I are needed back in Asgard, but Mother is not yet ready to travel," Thor informs King Wilson.
"She can stay here as long as she needs," the King promises. "I'm happy to honor the longstanding alliance between our kingdoms."
"You are a good man Samuel," Thor says with teary eyes. "We would have lost her without you and yours."
"And don't you forget it," King Wilson says with a smirk. "And we'll make sure whatever people you leave behind with her are taken care of as well."
"Hopefully she will be well enough by the next summit and we can take her home with us then."
As the two kings discuss the logistics of the upcoming departure Loki's mind keeps going to the servant girl and her dog. Maybe he should meet up with them again so Max can see Loki is no longer so distressed. He can still hear the dog's pitiful whines. Almost as clearly as he can picture your beautiful face.
The thought has to be squelched. He's an Asgardian Mage, you are a servant girl in another kingdom. It isn't proper.
But maybe a correspondence? A friendship? To keep up with your and Max's continued health.
The gardens are especially quiet today. All hands that are able are helping to prepare King Thor's caravan back to Asgard. In a rare moment of not being needed, Loki snuck his way out to the gardens in the hopes of seeing you. Though, if anyone asks, he's looking for that sweet dog he met to help him calm his nerves. Sure there were other dogs in and around the castle, but he can easily say Max is the most attentive to strangers.
His shoulders relax a little when he sees the little dog running towards him. He smiles when he sees you chasing after the dog.
"Oh, Your Majesty," you say between breaths as you curtsy.
"Loki, please," he insists, hiding the hurt in his eyes by bending down to pet Max.
"Loki," you repeat. "I wasn't expecting you to come back. Your people have been busy with preparations."
"They have," he nods. "But I wanted to make sure to thank you, and Max, before I leave. The two of you were quite the...comforting presence when I needed it."
"It's the least we can do. We know what it is to need that kind of peace and comfort."
"I was wondering, if...if it's not too forward, if I might...write to you, from time to time. To ask after Max. The pup has quite grown on me rather quickly."
If Loki hadn't had his eyes down, purposefully focusing on Max, he'd have seen your eyes round with shock as your jaw dropped.
"I...I must warn you, I'm not...my reading and writing skills are...lacking."
"Lacking?"
"I've got the basics but my handwriting is that of a child. Reading is a slow process for me."
Shame burns your cheeks. This handsome, kind, royal man must be highly intelligent to be a mage. And you're just a rescue who can barely read and write. The differences between you makes you feel so small, so unimportant.
"Then, with your permission, may I help you practice by writing from time to time?"
The King's Secret Service is the topic of many stories and myths. No one truly knows who they are, leading to much talk of them being ghouls, demons, and other creatures bound to the royal family.
They do, exist, though. As evidenced by raiding parties brought down before villages even know they're in danger. By the decrees acknowledging their work bringing in criminals. Scariest of all, by their courting.
If a woman wakes up to a bouquet of blue roses, impossible to be grown by normal methods, she must prepare to be whisked away in the night. Her family will receive a payment worthy of a noble, regardless of their actual status.
People try to keep watch to see the selected woman taken away but everyone who tries reports their eyes closing for but a moment, a mere blink. And when their eyes open again, the woman and her belongings are gone, replaced by the promised bride price.
Admiration - Celestial Steve Rogers
Rescue;
Warmth - Ice Demon Curtis Everett
Chosen;
Treasure - Red Dragon Johnny Storm
Appearances;
The Kingdom - general stories from the world
Left for Dead; Healing;
Asks:
About Dragon Johnny
Future ideas I'm still considering:
Shapeshifter Ari Levinson; Spectre Bucky Barnes; Mage Chris Beck; King Sam Wilson; Hunter James Conrad;
Summary: Johnny tells you something you're not ready to hear.
A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
Warnings: Dead family member, Implied human trafficking, Stalking(?). Please let me know if I missed any.
Previous--Next
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
I need your help.
That was the message you sent Torch with absolutely zero expectation of him actually answering. But that's because you clearly don't know the kind of guy Johnny is.
Within minutes he's in the chat with you asking what you need, what's going on, how can he help. It's enough to make you cry. You haven't cried in so long it's like a dam bursting inside you. Your eyes are so blurry you're typing with muscle memory alone to tell him a bit about how you were almost caught.
DarkAngel: I can't do this without you. And yes, it's killing me to admit that
Johnny smirks at your admission but he quickly shoves down the surge of pride. Now isn't the time.
HumanTorch: I thought I was too careless.
You wipe your eyes to read his message and your heart drops even more.
DA: I overreacted,
A partial truth because you can't bring yourself to admit the rest.
Torch: You're concerned about your safety. No way you can overreact when it comes to that.
"Why are you such a good guy?" you croak to yourself.
DA: I've never doubted your hacking skills, especially when it comes to safety. You've kept that company safe from so many raids, I know you'll never slip.
HT: ...
HT: I'm getting mixed signals. Are you under duress?
Holding your face in your hands you feel more emotionally raw than you have in such a long time.
DA: I broke into your apartment that day. I needed to make sure you weren't some kind of super spy or double agent. I was about to lock the door behind me when the maid service came into the hallway.
Johnny reads your message a few times, several thoughts and emotions burning at him. You broke into his apartment. You lied to him about it. You made him feel inadequate. You made him think he put you in danger, the last thing in the world he wanted.
Slamming a fist on his desk, Johnny makes a decision.
HT: You owe me.
DA: Agreed.
The next hour or so is spent in work mode. With Johnny's help, you're able to shore up your firewalls and patch up a few security issues that must've been exploited by the cartel's new hacker. Things that you know you'd never think to check, despite your paranoia, despite your years of keeping yourself safe.
DA: How are you so good at this?
HT: I'm motivated. Gotta keep my people safe.
Of course I'm not as good, then. I hate myself, you think.
DA: So what do I owe you?
HT: I don't know yet.
DA: Pretty sure an "I'm sorry" won't be enough, no matter how sincere.
HT: No, but it does help. I'll take an IOU for now.
DA: Okay. Thanks for keeping me safe.
HT: I think that's the first time you ever thanked me for anything.
DA: Look, human emotion ain't easy for me and I've had a very long month. Please don't make it worse.
HT: Got it. I'm glad you're safe.
DA: What did I just say?!
Johnny lets himself smirk at that but doesn't push. He's finally figured out a bit about the feral cat that is you. Just like a feral cat, you've gotta be slow and respect the hiss and claws, and earn that trust. He's clearly earned some but won't get more if he does too much right now.
Instead, Johnny lets himself burn through the negative energy built up by doing a workout.
After you log out, you cry it all out. Tears of relief, tears of loneliness, tears of frustration. Despite the security measures put in place, you've never felt so vulnerable. You can't decide between wanting to push Torch away or pull him closer. Your last thought, before you drift off into sleep, I hate being alone.
In another part of the world Jack "The Wolf" O'Malley takes a sip of his drink as he reads through the last encounter with the cartel's problem, Angel. He had them on the run, almost got an ID. Then Torch stepped in and they managed to lock him out.
Warnings: Possibly incorrect Italian. Please let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: ~1k
Previous--Next
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesday Masterlist
"Thanks again for the sewing lessons," Curtis nods at Geralt. "The online stuff was...lacking."
"Some people need the in-person experience," Geralt shrugs while watching G with Soot.
He knows his partner enjoys the company of cats so when Curtis asked to bring Soot with him to their apartment, Geralt agreed. They were expecting Curtis to show up with Soot in a pet create but he'd opted for a harness. Though he did bring a small crate, it was a means of bringing along a litter box for the kitten. G agreed to watch the kitten, play with her, give her food and water.
Right now Soot was asleep on G's shoulder and he was taking great pains to move as little as possible so as not to disturb her.
"I am simply appreciative you're not expecting to make entire costumes overnight," Geralt admits.
Curtis snorts at that. "No worries. I understand that basics must be mastered first. Also helps that I'm not aiming to be a Cat Cosplay in terms of quality."
Geralt nods. "Eventually we can work with the sewing machine but learning with needle and thread can help assess your full desire to learn crafting. Save yourself some money on supplies that you'll never use."
"Wise."
After their guests have left, G begins hunting down and and cat hairs that may have been shed. The primary reason they haven't adopted a pet was out of concern for Geralt's projects. The man put exceptional care into every detail of his costumes and props, even the ones he doesn't sell. Having random cat or dog hairs attach themselves while paint was drying could result in him having to remake entire pieces from scratch.
G knows Geralt could've told Curtis to not bring Soot. He knows that Geralt allowed it for his sake. The least he can do is make sure the kitten doesn't leave behind traces that will mess with his partner's fine work.
"PUPPY!!!" Leia laughs as she runs towards the door to greet Ransom's new pet.
"Careful, Leia," Ransom gently warns, holding a hand out. "He's very shy." Turning to the nervous puppy at his feet, Ransom lays his hand flat and says, "seduto," causing the puppy to sit.
Leia immediately stops in her tracks with a quiet "ok!" and crouches down to the puppy's level, holding out her hand. Luke sits with his Uncas as they watch the tiny puppy investigate the little hand in front of him.
"Bravo, Biscoff. Bravo," Ransom gently coos, petting the puppy.
As Biscoff starts licking Leia's fingers, making her giggle, Luke decides to join in and mimics his sister's slow, quiet approach.
"You two are going to keep an eye on him during D&D right?" Ransom beams at the Twins.
"Yes, Unca Ansom!" they happily reply in unison.
"He's very shy but also very food motivated. I've got some treats in my pockets that I will be holding onto to make sure the two of you don't accidentally overfeed him."
"What games does he like to play?" Leia asks.
"We've got the basics of fetch down, but that's about all I've got," Ransom shrugs.
"I wonder if you could get him to carry your plushies," Geralt interjects. "Corgis are supposedly the steeds of choice for fairies and pixies."
The Twins' eyes widen with wonder and run off to find the right toys to entice Biscoff to play with them. The puppy seemed to want to follow but stayed in place until Ransom removed the leash from his collar.
"You've been doing well with the training," Geralt praises Ransom.
Ransom shrugs, "thanks. He's a smart dog so that's helpful."
"How have you been handling the responsibility?" G asks, mindful of Ransom's concerns about taking care of another life as well as his own.
He sighs, "well, the first time I saw him asleep on his back I immediately panicked thinking he was dead." The G's nod in understanding. "But other than that, it's been...educational."
"You've been able to step up," G affirms.
"No small feat," Geralt confirms.
Neither of them mention Ransom's blushing, aware of his embarrassment of being so obvious.
After D&D the G's settle onto the couch for their post-session destimulation. The apartment is dark and quiet, perfect for recovering from socializing. Especially when that socialization included the loud, consistent laughter of children trying to teach a puppy to "charge into battle".
Instinctively the G's reach for each other's hand. When their fingers mesh, they each give a gentle squeeze. A silent reassurance.
The men enjoyed themselves, they really did. But their social batteries had always been rather weak. It was one of the things that the two really bonded over. There was no need to explain, no apologies needed. They understood.
And they've been getting more of that understanding from the people in their lives. It's allowed them the mental and social outlets they hadn't realized they were starved for. Which, in turn, allowed them to find more things in the world that made them happy. More creative outlets for Geralt. More entertainment for G. And more people to share them with for both.
"Do you think we could handle a pet?" Geralt quietly asks.
G is silent for several moments. "Your art?"
"Maybe if we found a...bigger place?"
"Animal hairs and dander are always a risk, no matter how big an apartment we get."
"What if...we got a house? With a shed or detached garage?"
G is silent for several more moments. "We wouldn't need a big place then."
"Might grant us more affordable options."
"Have to deal with realtors," G grumbles.
Geralt pauses to think. "We could ask someone to go with us? Pose as the buyer?"
Though he can't see it, Geralt knows G has raised an eyebrow at that.
"They'd get the realtor's attention, thinking they're the ones they have to sell to?" G ventures.
Geralt grunts in the affirmative and G gently squeezes his hand.
"Feels strange to be considering," G admits. "We used to be comfortable."
"Comfortable," Geralt quietly agrees, gently nodding his head. "But we might be outgrowing our little den."
"Attachments bring complications, but also happiness it seems," G postulates.
"That it does," Geralt confirms, gently squeezing G's hand.
Hi, love your biker!fics. I identify a lot with Dove so the idea of biker!Steve is a dream come true
Thank you! I love how many people resonate with Dove. She really is for the shy, awkward girls who are figuring things out on their own time. And Steve will be there patiently waiting for her, with her. He doesn't want to change anything about her personality or her quirks. He wants to help her explore all the things she thought was out of reach. It's going to be beautiful and everything she (and you) deserve
I’m so glad Marisha can get a break from being an overworked, underslept redhead experiencing the rise of facism in her country by playing dnd and pretending to be an overworked, underslept redhead experiencing the rise of facism in her country
I'm kind of obsessed with Hal being a D-list celebrity in Dol Makjar like that man cannot go anywhere without being clocked. Strangers at the club ask him to sing karaoke for them. The literal king of a foreign country knows who he is. Even the fucking mobsters he's fighting in the sewers are like "wait a minute, is that-"
Biker!Steve is going to be so respectful and patient with Dove. To the point it might actually drive her crazy because every little casual brush of his fingers across her back, every time he puts his hands on her waist when he lifts her off his bike, every soft, sweet kiss goodnight is awakening something in her.
Something she can't put a name to, can't quite describe. It's just there, growing and gnawing at her every time he cups her chin, tilting her face up, his deep voice telling her to keep her eyes on him.
It's making her want to do things she's only ever read about. She doesn't know what to do though. And that's driving her as crazy as that growing ache.
Her only relief is that at least Steve doesn't know about the filthy, naughty thoughts she's having.
—Steve knows. He's known from the start. He can the way her eyes dilate, hear the subtle hitch in her breath whenever he reminds her how he strong he is, how through and patient he can be, what'd it be like if she lets him in. Steve knows exactly what's running through her pretty little head. And fuck does he wants to hear her soft voice confessing every dirty and sweet fantasy she has. Because he'll make every last one a reality for her.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,967
Summary: After a week of working on Lloyd, you were definitely ready for your vacation. But your time away from work doesn't start off the way you expected. Not at all.
Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Mild sexual content. AI!Lloyd. Developer!Reader. 40s!Curvy!Reader. Vulgar language and sooo many sexual innuendos lol.
A/N: I’m so tickled that so many of you loved AI!Lloyd lolll. He’s a freakin’ hoot to write, so of course I had to revisit him ASAP. Please enjoy his next installment. And if you’re new to this story, be sure to read AI!Lloyd’s intro first ❤️
Superior AI Masterlist
It had been so long since you took a vacation, that you forgot how amazing it felt to walk into work for the last time before you skedaddled off for real, blessed freedom.
You were in a glorious mood–you felt like you were walking on air as you strolled toward your lab, sipping on the fancy coffee you had treated yourself to in celebration of vacation eve. You were even humming a jaunty tune as the doors to your lab slid open and you stepped inside.
To find Lloyd standing completely naked in the middle of the room–save those fucking loafers without socks. His hands were on his hips, his head tipped back toward the vent above him, which was blowing down a stream of fresh, cool air that caused his hair to ruffle ever so slightly.
“What the hell are you doing?” you screeched, nearly dropping your coffee in shock.
Lloyd blinked his eyes open, his lips tilted into a smirk as he replied, “Enjoying the breeze. Gotta let the boys breathe, yanno?”
“You are a fucking machine, the boys aren’t real!” you huffed. Turning on your heel, you stomped over to the keypad on the wall beside your lab doors, punching in a code that immediately turned the glass from clear to frosted.
Because you would not foist Lloyd’s unhinged and inappropriate behavior on any innocent bystanders.
“I beg to differ,” Lloyd huffed. Then he grinned, and it was a sinful wicked thing. “Let me show you how real they are. ‘Cause when I tell you they are full and aching…”
You made a face, scoffing, “You’re disgusting.”
Refusing to look Lloyd’s way, you marched over to your desk, setting down your coffee before shrugging off your coat.
“Hubba hubba,” Lloyd groaned as you revealed your outfit–a wrap dress that you hadn’t worn in years, but since all your clothes had been packed for your trip, you were down to the bottom of your closet barrel.
“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, your face warming exponentially as you felt his leering gaze aimed your way.
“I’m just eager to get my hands on all those luscious curves. You’ve got a body made to be used, pumpkin, so let daddy use you like we both know you want.”
“Ugh!”
You had always considered yourself pretty laid back, with a sense of humor to boot, but after a week straight of Lloyd and his neverending nonsense, he was truly starting to get on your last nerve.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” Lloyd purred. “You wouldn’t believe some of the features I’ve been gifted with.”
You finally turned back to him, your face steely as you pointed a finger for emphasis and hissed, “Put on some clothes or I am taking you to the incinerator.”
“Ohhh yes, mommy.” Lloyd made a show of shivering, and you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching before you grimaced out another “ugh!” and made yourself look away.
“Not into a mommy kink, got it. Your preferences have been updated.” Lloyd winked.
Not that you could see him doing so, since you were now planted in your desk chair and staunchly staring at your computer screen as you began to sift through your email.
He huffed again, muttering under his breath as you ignored him, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. You could, however, hear the rustle of clothing, and thankfully, once Lloyd appeared beside your desk a moment later, arms crossed and pouting, he was fully clothed.
“You need to get laid, cupcake,” he declared, like it was a known truth instead of merely his opinion.
Even though a quiet, traitorous voice in the very back of your mind agreed with Lloyd, you didn’t respond to him. Didn’t even look at him.
Because you had learned that the more you engaged with him, or bantered with him, the more it encouraged him to act like a grade A jackass.
“I eagerly volunteer to rock your world,” he continued, leaning close to try to get a reaction out of you.
Setting your jaw, you continued to try to read through your email, not giving Lloyd a lick of attention, which you knew he craved.
After nearly a week of studying him, of running various tests and diagnostics, and trying to figure out how he kept overriding his programming, you were barely any closer to real answers in that regard, but you sure did know a whole lot more about Lloyd.
He was a diva, a deviant, and apparently sex obsessed. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t hurled a plethora of innuendos and salacious offers and requests at you, which–ridiculously–only seemed to make you realize how woefully lonely and unsatisfied you were.
Not that you would ever let on to that, especially to Lloyd.
“Hey, where you’d go, pumpkin?”
You jumped as Lloyd’s lips brushed your cheek as he spoke, jerking away to find him leaning over you from behind now, watching as you stared at your computer screen but didn’t actually work.
When his eyes met your wide ones, he grinned big and naughty. “Are you thinking sexual thoughts about me?”
“No! Ew!”
His eyes twinkled. “Fine, sexual thoughts in general?”
“Lloyd! Get away from me.” You elbowed him hard, feeling a small sense of victory as he grunted, even though you knew you couldn’t actually hurt him.
He straightened, but remained close. “If you were to have sexual thoughts, what would they be?”
You closed your eyes, exhaling hard. You could feel a headache already starting to build behind your eyes. You weren’t sure how you were going to put up with nearly seven more hours of his nonsense.
Nodding to yourself, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you straightened in your chair and wheeled it closer to your desk. You clicked on the next unread email, starting to read before Lloyd’s voice once again broke your concentration.
“You know, if you were a Senior Developer who really cared about her work, you’d experience all I have to offer firsthand. How can you fix me when you barely know me, or what I’m capable of?”
You turned to him, eyebrow arched and voice unimpressed as you asked, “Are you capable of shutting the fuck up so I can do my work?”
“Oh ho ho, someone's got a dirty mouth on her. Think of how fun it would be to let me put it to good use.”
Your lips dropped open at that one, and damnit. The image of being on your knees as Lloyd used your mouth bloomed to life in your brain before you could fend it off.
Somehow, it was like Lloyd knew, and your face burned as he cackled at your reaction.
Clapping his hands together, he waggled his eyebrows, pointing at you as he winked. “Looks like you got a mind as dirty as that mouth, cupcake, and I’m so fucking here for it.”
“That’s it! You, over here, now!” You launched yourself to your feet before grabbing Lloyd’s arm and dragging him over to the diagnostics area of your lab. “I am ecstatically looking forward to my vacation just so I get a break from you, you deviant,” you gritted as you shoved him around until you could reach the power button at his nape.
“Methinks the luscious lady doth protest too much,” Lloyd shot you a smarmy grin and kissy face over his shoulder.
Which only made it feel all the more satisfying when you pressed your thumb to the Superior AI logo at his neck and he powered down, slumping forward and going blessedly quiet.
“Thank fucking god,” you huffed, resisting the urge to kick the annoying robot before turning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.
Hours later, you were exhausted after a day that had felt too long, but you were also grinning so big as you drove the SUV you had rented down the gravel road that led to your decked out rental a few states north.
You actually gasped as the road gave way to a large, gravel driveway, and you caught sight of the cabin tucked away in the middle of the woods.
It looked like some kind of forest mansion–its exterior a combination of dark wood and meticulous stonework that was framed by the lush overhang of trees surrounding the property. There was a wrap-around porch that you knew was occupied by a tempting hot tub out back, and large windows that glowed brightly from the timered lights the owner had warned you about. And just inside, you could see a glimpse of all the handcrafted woodwork that had sold you on staying here, that was so different from your own modern house.
Everything about this place screamed nature, peace, and rejuvenation, and you could already feel the tension easing from your shoulders as you turned off the SUV and unbuckled your seatbelt.
“Let’s get this vacation started!” Lloyd shouted as he suddenly popped up from the back seat like some kind of deranged jack-in-the-box robot from hell.
You screamed, twisting around in your seat and chucking the car keys at his head out of instinct.
“Holy shitballs!” he hissed, barely ducking out of the keys’ way before glaring at you. “You need to work on being more hospitable, cupcake.”
“What the actual fuck?!?!?” You screeched, pressing a hand to your chest where your heart was still thundering from the shock of his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”
Lloyd leaned his arms on the edges of the front seats, smiling big as he replied, “Waiting for you to take me inside so we can finally bump uglies.”
“Lloyd! Explain! I powered you down this morning! I double checked you were still powered down before I left. How are you here?!” You stared at him in a horrified kind of wonder.
“Pssht, we both know something as lame as a basic system setting isn’t gonna keep me contained. Besides, you’re super uptight, take your job real seriously, you’d never let me fuck you at work. So, I removed that block from the equation. Now you have no reason to keep shooting me down.”
“I don’t want to have sex with you!” you hollered.
“Doubtful,” Lloyd scoffed. “Have you seen me?” He touched his hands to his chest, skimming them lower as he waggled his eyebrows at you.
Trapping another screech behind your clenched teeth, you shoved out of the vehicle, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stormed toward the trunk and pulled it open to grab your luggage.
You were so annoyed, fuming really, your body buzzing with it as you tried to wrestle your three suitcases from the depths of the trunk, to no avail.
“Did you pack everything you own?” Lloyd snorted as he appeared beside you, twirling the car keys around his finger as he watched you struggle.
You straightened, glowering at him as you barked, “At least make your stowaway self useful and help me!”
Lloyd’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not a luggage wrack, toots.”
“Ohhh you are tempting me to make you into one.”
Lloyd watched you for a beat, drinking in the way your gaze was blazing with an angry kind of disbelief. Sighing, he rolled his eyes before leaning forward and easily sweeping up all of your luggage at once.
You couldn’t even be impressed–and he definitely didn’t deserve your gratitude–so you just hmphed and stalked toward the cabin, feeling your awe and wonder from before start to trickle through you again as you saw just how beautifully crafted the structure was up close.
You couldn’t help it as your hand reached out, trailing along the somehow smooth and rough at the same time stones that split up all of the wood paneling on the cabin’s exterior.
When you reached the front door, you dug your phone from your pocket, pulling up the welcome email the owner had sent you. You typed in the provided security code on the keypad beside the door, and there was a cheery chime as a light blinked green before the front door unlocked with a quiet click.
You turned the knob and stepped inside, nearly bowled over by how large the interior was. Everywhere you turned, beautiful oak wood greeted you. The cabin was the epitome of cozy indulgence–the living room had the biggest, most beautiful stone fireplace you had ever seen, and all of the furniture looked so high end and comfortable, you were afraid to touch it let alone use it.
You were still trying to process that this would be your home away from home for the next three weeks when Lloyd pulled up beside you, giving an appreciative whistle.
“Personally, I’d prefer some leopard print over the taxidermied road kill decor, but to each their own.” He dropped your luggage without care, turning to you with a grin. “Shall we christen the living room first, or–”
“No! Don’t you even start, I swear to god!” You pointed across the living room, to where it opened up and flowed into a ridiculously large kitchen that was currently dark. “Let’s go, you goddamn menace.”
You didn’t even bother to take off your coat before marching into the kitchen and pointing to an empty corner.
Because you were not going to officially start your vacation with Lloyd fucking Hansen nipping at your heels.
“You are going to stay in here and power down and stay powered down, or I am going to dismantle you myself, I swear to god!”
“Ohhh, I dunno,” Lloyd chuckled as he sauntered in behind you, flipping on the lights over the marble isle before turning to you. “I kinda like the sound of that.”
He didn’t just hover a few feet away from you like he usually did, he sauntered right up to you–invading your personal space–and pinned you against the fridge as he purred, “Just be sure to be gentle when you put me back together again, cupcake. I’m more sensitive than you’d think and I love a little bit of aftercare.”
Something about the darkened state of Lloyd’s eyes, and the gravelly timber of his voice, had a shiver racing up your spine. Ignoring the way your body perked up in hyperawareness–at both his proximity and words–you pointed to the corner again.
“Power down. Now.”
Lloyd watched you for a beat, and then he sighed in disappointment before turning and sauntering over to the empty corner. He turned, giving you a final stare–intense enough to make all of your hair stand on end–before he muttered, “Initiating power down mode…mommy,” he taunted, his eyes briefly glowing turquoise before his body slumped forward.
You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, watching Lloyd in his powered down state for a moment.
Part of you still couldn’t believe that he was actually here–so far away from your lab at Superior AI–and crashing your very much needed vacation.
And then there was another part of you, perhaps the overly logical developer part who had witnessed a week's worth of Lloyd’s antics, that was more surprised you hadn’t seen this coming.
But you wouldn’t let his unexpected nonsense ruin your vacation. You wouldn’t.
Straightening your spine, you gave Lloyd’s still form a final glower before you breezed from the kitchen and back out into the living room. You took a moment to remove your coat and hang it in the front closet, and then lock the front door, before you turned to the pile of luggage on the floor.
Setting aside the suitcase you needed tonight, you stacked the others in the closet. You were too tired after such a long drive–and an even longer work week–to fully unpack right now. But there was no harm in leaving it until morning.
That was the whole point of a vacation, right? Relaxing. Not working. Enjoying yourself.
Nodding to yourself, you smiled a little, already planning which comfy pajamas you wanted to slip into after your shower as you turned and slowly made your way up the large, wood staircase leading to the second floor bedrooms.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, you flipped the lightswitches there. One to turn on the hall light so you could see your path to the mastersuite, and the other to turn off the lights downstairs.
You smiled bigger as you stepped inside the mastersuite, which was pretty much like stepping right into the lap of luxury.
“Wow!” you breathed, your eyes big as they darted around the beautifully decorated space that was somehow both spa-like and rustic, and most definitely the nicest room you had ever stayed in ever.
You couldn’t contain your grin as you dug through your suitcase, pulling free your preferred night shirt to sleep in, as well as your toiletries bag, and then you practically skipped to the ensuite, knowing only more tempting luxury would await you there.
As you started your wind down routine, you had no idea that downstairs, in the darkened kitchen, Lloyd suddenly straightened, powering himself on and glancing around with a smirk.
He cocked his head, listening to the faint sounds of you moving around upstairs, and his smirk morphed into a wolfish grin as he heard the shower kick to life and imagined you all soapy and naked and oh so close.
“Just gotta be patient for a little longer, and then once you’re tucked into bed fast asleep, it’ll be time for me to do my due diligence and soften you up to me, pumpkin.” Lloyd leaned back against the wall, tucking his hands into his pockets as he hummed, “Just because you can’t star in my dreams, doesn’t mean I can’t star in yours. I’ll have you weak kneed for me and riding the stache in no time, you just wait.”
lolllll. You guyssss! I love him so fucking much 🤣 I am high key begging you to take a moment to drop me a comment or some reblog feedback. I need to spiral about this fictional man!robot with you!!!
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The werewolf is a single dad and hates to leave his pups with a babysitter, but he has a meeting at work he just can't miss. So reluctantly, he hires someone. When you show up he spends half an hour explaining everything to you.
He has prepared their dinners, so all you have to do is heat them up. If they spill something on themselves just wipe them down with a sponge and handtowel, no baths. Don't let them in the garden, because the littlest one tends to run into the street. No television, it messes with their eyes...
You don't interrupt or try to get him to hurry up. You listen and nod when he's done, and then wave goodbye at the door with the three pups. He can hardly concentrate at work, glancing at the clock as the hours tick by. He knows just how much of a handful his pups are. Will you be able to handle it? When the meeting ends, he's the first one to leave. The sun is setting by the time he gets home and as he strides to the front door he hears you say, "Get back here, you rascal!"
He bounds the rest of the way, unlocking the door and slipping in. If you're not being nice to his pups... He feels his hackles raise a little, but then he steps into the living room and finds all four of you crawling around on the floor, having a great time. This is the first time he's come home to see the babysitter managing all three at once. There are no tears, no bumped heads or bite marks.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
His pups squeal and surge forward to greet him, their little tails wagging.
"We're playing caterpillars!" They say, their words tumbling over each other as they talk about how much fun they've had.
He's only half listening, though. He watches you pull yourself off the floor with a tired but satisfied smile and begin putting away toys, and he almost keels over as his primal side tells him that he's just found the perfect mate. Together you put the pups to bed. He knows he should pay you and send you on your way, but he feels like he'll die if he doesn't talk to you.
He clears his throat and murmurs, "Want a drink?"
When your eyes light up, he knows he's made the right choice.
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 40 | Series Masterlist | Part 42
Chapter Word Count: Over 5.6k
Chapter Summary: Things go from passionate to emotional after your night with Bucky.
Chapter Warnings: Kissing, fingering, protected p. in v. sex, DUBCON (due to the surrounding circumstances), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, mention of death, crying, visiting a grave, inner turmoil, possessive behavior, mood swings, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 , but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
The room still smelled of sex when you opened your eyes, a reminder of what transpired the night before. You stretched a little, your body a symphony of aches and satisfactions. Your muscles were more lax than you could remember in ages, your skin sensitive to the touch, and your core throbbed from the aftermath. You closed your eyes and tried not to focus so much on the physical sensations, but Bucky’s fingers traced idle patterns on your back and kept your mind from drifting too far.
“You’re awake,” he murmured in a low purr, his lips moving against the top of your head. “How are you feeling?”
You weren’t sure how to answer that, so you made a small hum at first. “Feel like I slept for days,” you replied.
“Well, you did sleep for an entire day. Worried me there for a bit.”
“I what?” you asked, your head snapping up so fast you were surprised you didn’t smack his chin.
His eyes crinkled as he chuckled, soothing you with a kiss. “Kidding, Kotyonok. I’m kidding,” he assured you, kissing you again. The man must’ve had some serious immunity to your morning breath or just loved you that much. “I did wear you out, but not an entire day’s worth of sleeping.”
Your cheeks felt hot when you remembered. It wasn’t just the car and taking you to bed the first time. He couldn’t keep his hands off you when he drew you a bath, teasing your nipples and keeping his fingers knuckles deep in your pussy. His lips kissed you everywhere he could reach, your panting and whimpers shifting to a broken cry when you came. And he still wouldn’t let up, even when the hot water eventually turned cold.
“Can’t wait ‘til you ride me in here,” he rasped as he helped dry you off, his tongue tracing a heart on your neck.
You didn’t ride him in the bathtub, but it didn’t stop him from having you ride him in bed.
He had the condom on faster than could blink and your walls felt so sensitive when he sank you down on his cock, both of you losing your breath. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in this position. That was how long ago it was. It felt too vulnerable at first with you on top of him, but he refused to let you cover yourself.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled when you tried, using one hand to keep your wrists behind your back. “You’re so beautiful, and I want you to show me how beautiful you are.”
The mix of his tone and words sent a shiver down your spine and he didn’t release your wrists until he sensed you wouldn’t try again. Your movements were slow, at first, as you adjusted to the angle and having him so deep inside you. But his groans told you he liked the pace and he smiled as you moved with more purpose, your confidence gaining. His hands traced your every curve and his fingers rolling your nipples between them.
“Fuck, Kotyonok. That’s it. Ride me,” he moaned, the muscles in his neck straining as his head fell back. “So wet, so tight, so fucking good.”
You let out a surprised gasp when he sat up, his chest against yours. He grasped the back of your neck, forcing you to stare deep into his eyes. It was impossible to hide, impossible to ignore the intimacy. It was almost enough to crack your heart wide open.
“You’re close. I can feel it,” he grunted, sharing one breath with you. “Pussy’s gripping me so tight. Doesn’t want to let go.”
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you began to shatter. A tear fell from your eyes like a shard of glass, which he licked away. He’d gladly let you stab him and welcome the pain since it was you.
That was power.
“Come all over my cock,” he breathed, snapping his hips up. “Make me yours as much as you’re mine.”
Both of you fell over the edge, his cock pulsing as you fluttered around him. His lips were gentle against yours, a contrast to the tight hold his arms had on you. You weren’t sure how much more your body could take tonight, which he must’ve sensed since he gently rested you against the mattress.
“I love you,” he exhaled, a wide smile on his face. “I’ll never stop.”
“I know you won’t,” you whispered.
You heard him whisper that he loved you again in your ear before you drifted off, like your voice and his declaration had to be the last thing you heard before your dreams swept you away.
“You’re thinking about last night,” Bucky guessed.
You blinked. There was no point in denying it. “It was a lot,” you whispered.
“It brought us closer together. You’re letting me in,” he said, tilting his head. “Slowly but surely.”
“Didn’t think I’d see the day,” you said quietly.
You wouldn’t consider yourself an ice queen by any means, far from it, but Bucky was like a constant fire surrounding your protective block of ice. It was eventually going to melt. And he would become the source of your heat that you could never extinguish.
Not when you were so determined to keep yourself safe from the man he was.
“I knew you’d get there,” he said, brushing his hair back to get a better look at you. “Not because I wore you down, but because it was inevitable.”
“Because you believe we’re soulmates,” you said, or whatever he thought was deeper than soulmates.
“You shifted my entire reality. My heart whispers your name and it echoes in my soul. Yours will whisper mine, too.” He reached out and placed a hand on your chest. “You just need to listen to it.”
You hesitated before placing your hand over his. He wasn’t a whisper. He was like a tattoo that left a permanent mark. Even if you tried to remove it, part of it would linger.
“There’s no fear in your eyes today,” he commented.
Did you have time to feel fear with the multiple orgasms he gave you?
“It’s early in the day. There’s still time,” you joked a little.
He chuckled after a moment, but it was sadder than you expected. “I hope there’s no fear today,” he said, taking your hand when he moved it from your chest. “But I know cemeteries can be scary sometimes.”
Your mouth opened when his expression shifted, the grief raw. “Your mom,” you whispered, wishing you could take your little joke back. “Bucky, I…”
Your heart sank. You knew the anniversary was coming up, but you didn’t realize it was today. Were your days bleeding together that much?
“Shh.” He pressed his fingers to your lips. “You’ve had so much going in. I didn’t need to remind you and put one more thing on you,” he said like he read your mind. “And last night, we both needed that.”
“But still-”
“As much as it hurts, I didn’t dread today as much as I normally do because I have you. That means everything.”
You studied his face. There was unmistakable pain there along with a glimmer of hope. You imagined that hurt would always be there when it came to his mom, especially when she was one of the only good people in his life before.
Losing a morale compass may have destroyed part of his path, and you wondered if you could ever help him rebuild it.
“Do you want me to go?” you asked.
He told you he didn’t go to the club on the anniversary of her death and that he didn’t really talk to anyone, not even Steve. Maybe he needed a few minutes to himself since grief didn’t need an audience. His feelings weren’t yours to intrude on.
His face fell as your question registered. “You told me I wouldn’t have to be alone today,” he whispered.
“I’m not trying to back out, Bucky,” you promised, trying to calm the storm before it began. “I’m just offering you the chance to be alone if you need it.”
“Well, I don’t need a chance to be alone,” he said sternly, almost desperate. “I need you close.” You’re the only thing I need.”
He was holding tight again, like always. “I do need to make an arrangement,” you reminded him. You promised you’d do that.
“And it’ll be beautiful.” He smiled softly. “Why don’t you tell Curtis what you need if you can’t find it in the garden?”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to make him go shopping? Again?” you asked.
Bucky really took pleasure in making him an errand boy, didn’t he? A small part of you wanted to smile, picturing that grump of a bodyguard getting the flowers you needed. You really would’ve loved to be his friend in another life.
“He can do that while you stay here with me,” he answered, hugging you against him. “I just need you, okay? You’re the only thing I need.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you said like the choice was yours.
He exhaled, relieved, but he didn’t let you go. “Thank you.”
The penthouse felt colder by the time Bucky let you out of bed. His motions seemed almost robotic as he went through his morning routine, his eyes cold. There was no playfulness or soft words. It was the man that most people in the city saw, emotions shut down and something else in its place.
Bucky was holding himself together the best way he knew how.
He chose an all black outfit, of course. You picked something black, too, along with the bracelet he gave you. It felt like a nice way to honor his mother, and the gold made the somber air feel a bit lighter.
“This everything?” he asked, glancing at the short list you made.
“Should be,” you replied, following him when he left the room.
Curtis was already waiting at the end of the hall, but he looked past Bucky to you. “Hey. You feeling okay?” he asked.
You had no idea if he or Ray knew what happened in the car, but he looked worried. It could’ve been because of Addison or the number of things you experienced. You wished you could tell whatever higher being that was watching over your life that you had enough for a lifetime.
“I’m fine,” you said.
Even if you weren’t, today wasn’t about you.
“You’re going shopping.” Bucky shoved the list against his chest hard enough that you flinched. Your bodyguard didn’t. “Hurry the fuck up.”
“Bucky,” you said sharply enough that he turned his head. He didn’t have to treat him like that, even today.
Something in him eased, like your stare was the only thing that could pull him out of the abyss. “Sorry,” he muttered, flexing his fingers. “It’s…”
“The anniversary,” Curtis said, looking at his boss with unexpected sympathy. “I’ll hurry back,” he added, leaving without another word.
Bucky audibly exhaled and pulled you to him. “I really am an asshole to him.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, rubbing his back until he fully relaxed. “We need to work on that.”
He scoffed, hiding his face briefly in your neck. “I’ll let you guide me.”
“I’ll try,” you said, pulling away to look at him. “Think you can handle eating breakfast?”
He looked touched that you asked. “I can at least have some coffee.”
You nodded. “That’s a start.”
Ray was already in the kitchen, blinking hard and slow as he looked at his boss. There were mugs waiting for both of you and a couple of danishes. It was a nice gesture.
“Morning,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
Bucky didn’t return the pleasantry, staring into the mug like it could solve his problems. “I’m driving today.”
“Boss,” he began cautiously. “Are you sure that’s-”
“I fucking said I’m driving today,” he snapped, his eyes murderous.
You put a hand on his arm. Snapping at Curtis didn’t come as a surprise to you. Ray was a different story. He didn’t look at all offended. If anything, he looked like he expected it.
“Just breathe,” you urged.
He inhaled and exhaled, grabbing your hand before you could move away. “I’m feeling everything at once, and I’m trying so fucking hard not to,” he admitted through his teeth.
When the two of you were in bed, it was likely easier for him to focus on the two of you. Just like he wanted you to believe nothing existed beyond those walls. Now he was leaning into anger, something easy and familiar. It was something he aimed at his men, but never at you.
And you were the only one who could regulate him.
“Can you tell me something you see? Or touch?” you asked, hoping it would ground him along with the breathing.
“I see you. I can touch you,” he said immediately, his hand finding your cheek. “I hear your voice, and I can smell your perfume.”
It didn’t surprise you that everything revolved around you. “Good. That’s good.”
He leaned in for a quick but deep kiss. “And I can taste you,” he whispered, his next breath coming much easier. “I’ve never been in love on this day.”
Was love making his moods swing a bit more than usual? “Then lean into that,” you urged, giving him a small smile. “Not obsession or possession. Love.”
“Okay,” he rasped.
Ray kept a safe distance while you both had your coffee and danish, and Bucky didn’t let go of your hand while he ate. You didn’t try to pull away. Your presence kept him from completely unraveling.
Curtis came back with everything in hand, also maintaining a safe distance while you thanked him and spread everything along the counter. You got to work immediately, trimming the stems of the yellow alstroemerias, purple pansies, and white daffodils. You wanted something vibrant yet elegant. Something special.
Bucky watched the way you arranged the flowers carefully and reached out to touch one of the petals. “You used to bring her the yellow alstroemerias,” he said, his eyes full of such tenderness you thought he’d weep. “But why the others?”
“The pansies are for remembrance and honoring the quiet dignity she carried even when she was tired and hurting,” you explained, noticing that Curtis and Ray were listening curiously, too. “And the daffodils are for new beginnings and healing that comes after a loss.”
Curtis and Ray both looked at their feet while their boss cleared his throat, the emotions thick in the room.
“That’s beautiful,” Bucky murmured, his voice rough. “She’d love it.”
“You think so?” you asked, making sure the ribbon was tied with extra precision.
“I know so,” he promised, moving around the counter to kiss your temple. “Thank you for doing this.”
Your chest ached as you looked the bouquet over. It looked bright and alive in your hands, and somehow looked like hope.
“Thank you for letting me,” you said.
It wasn’t much, but an arrangement was still something and it came from your heart.
“Let’s go,” he said, his hand finding your back. “Follow us,” he ordered, the anger finally out of his tone with them.
It registered as you left the penthouse and got to the car that this was the first time Bucky drove. You were always in the back of a vehicle with him. Was driving a way for him to have more control today? Or did he just not want his men in the vehicle with him?
He didn’t start the car right away, his hands gripping the steering wheel and his breaths tight and steady. You practically felt the weight that settled over him. It was suffocating.
“I’m here,” you whispered.
It was the incentive he needed to start the car.
There was no music or conversation to fill the silence, but his hand reached for yours. His jaw unclenched when you laced your fingers together. He didn’t squeeze or cling to you, but his thumb moved over your skin as a reminder that you were there beside him.
You glanced at him, his usual sharp features softening when he caught you staring. “I see you, Kotyonok. And I’m touching you.”
“And what are you focusing on?” you asked.
“Love,” he breathed without hesitation. “I’m focusing on loving you.”
You closed your eyes. His words were the most beautiful knives that could cut anyone open. It wasn’t a confession since he said many times that he loved you, but he spoke it like a fact that no one could prove wrong.
And he stayed silent again until you got to the cemetery.
The sun looked almost too bright as it shone down on the headstones, your heart seizing at the sight. Bucky helped you out of the car and took the bouquet, holding it like it was something fragile. He held onto you and took slow, deliberate steps, gaze straight ahead. He moved with familiarity, knowing exactly where the path led.
He slowed to a stop, his breath shuddering. Tears filled your eyes as you looked at the blue granite headstone. Beloved daughter, mother, and friend. No mention of being a wife.
“She wanted a simple headstone, but I made sure it was still beautiful,” he explained, glancing at the flowers. “And I made sure my prick of a father would never be near her since she deserved peace.”
He knelt down and you slowly moved beside him. You debated distancing yourself to give him a minute, but he gripped your hand like a lifeline. He needed you.
“Hi, mom,” he whispered as he set the bouquet against the headstone. He traced the etching of her name after. “Been a bit since I’ve visited and I’m sorry for that. Club’s thriving. Steve and the guys are doing well.”
Something wistful crossed his face and then it was gone.
“I brought someone with me today… the love of my life,” he said proudly.
Your breath hitched when he glanced at you, his eyes glassy in a way you rarely saw.
“I fell for her the second I saw her on the camera at the club. Just one look and I knew. She was waiting for someone to love her… for me to love her,” he explained, his eyes flicking to the grass. “She’s beautiful, loving, smart. She’s a gifted florist and now she wants to help women who need it. That’s amazing, isn’t it?”
He paused and it was almost as if he was waiting to hear his mom say something in return.
“And you know what I found out when I was researching her?” The casualty of him stalking you was something that still gave you pause. “I found out she was the one who saved you. She gave me more time with you… Gave me a chance to say goodbye.”
His voice barely cracked, but it was enough that your tears spilled over. You wiped at your cheeks. You knew all this, but hearing him speak it with such reverence was something else.
“You told me you hoped I’d find my other half one day. To love her completely, hold her tight, and never let her go. That’s what I did,” he continued, closing his eyes. “I may not have done that the right way.”
The words were heavy in the quiet air.
“She should’ve been my wife by now,” he said, his jaw tight. “I lost so much time with her. Minutes. Days. Years.”
Time was a funny thing. It was fleeting and precious. It was one of the greatest and irreplaceable gifts you could give someone because once you give them a portion of your life, you’d never get it back. And Bucky was like a clock with hands that would never stop.
It wasn’t just because he was relentless and impatient, but because he seemed to feel and experience time differently. He carried every second he lost and the ones carefully handed to him. He mourned the “lost years” that he could’ve had with you, and cherished the extra months with his mom. The moments he had with you, he held onto them like they were made of gold.
Time was personal to Bucky, and he was still learning to share your time with others.
“I sped up the process in the worst way. I stalked her. Broke into her place and bugged it. Threatened her friends. Forced her to meet mine. Moved her into my place. I made sure everything tied her to me. I scared her into being with me,” he said, his jaw tight. “I may not be dad, but I inherited some of that darkness and the need to use fear to control the outcome.”
He reached over and brushed a tear from your cheek.
“She asked if you would be proud or ashamed of me for how I got her to be with me. And I thought… you’d just want us together.” He laughed sadly and shook his head. “But I know you wouldn’t be proud of my actions. Why would you be when you raised me better than that?”
He was laying himself bare to both of you, the only two people he loved enough to do so.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m trying to be better, for her and you. And I’m learning how to love her the way you wanted me to and the way she needs me to,” he spoke to the headstone, but was speaking to you, too. “Not with fear or control.”
He placed his hand over the flowers you set down.
“But with choice. With time. With the parts of me you’d be proud of,” he said softly, staying himself. “I’m trying. I really am.”
He bowed his head and a gentle breeze blew by, like his mom was listening. You were listening, too. He meant it.
You cried harder without meaning to. Was it his grief or yours? Maybe it was both. Maybe it was healing.
“I miss you,” he whispered, tears in his throat that he quickly cleared away. “And I love you.”
He turned toward you, no push or command in his eyes as your tears slowed. He wasn’t the king of the city today. Like this, he looked humble.
“You shouldn’t be comforting me,” you mumbled when he wiped the remaining tears from your face.
It should’ve been the other way around.
“You have a big heart, and you’re allowed to cry,” he said, kissing your lips. “I’d be worried if I said all that and you didn’t cry a little.”
“But I should be comforting you.”
“You are just by being here,” he said softly. “You can talk to her if you want to.”
Your eyes flickered between him and the headstone. “I… I don’t want to intrude,” you said, which sounded silly since you were there and heard everything.
He smiled gently. “You saved her. Visited her. Showed her kindness. You were there for her when I couldn’t be and gave me time with her I never would’ve had otherwise.” He nodded to the bouquet. “You’re part of her story, too.”
Something loosened in your chest. You made a choice that day. You chose to help someone. It wrote the next chapter of your lives without you knowing.
“Only if you want to,” he repeated, softer this time.
Maybe it was the gentleness of the invitation or that he was sharing his grief with you over anyone else, but you nodded.
“Hi, Winnie,” you said, touching one of the petals. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to bring flowers to the hospital and read to you.”
Bucky squeezed your hand. “She remembers,” he whispered.
“You were very kind to me whenever I visited.” You sniffled, picturing her tired smiles and the gratitude in her eyes for your visits. “I’m sorry for the pain you went through. I know you didn’t deserve it. And I’m glad you aren’t hurting anymore.”
You swallowed, the weight of everything settling. Your parents were still alive, but the bridge burned down and you weren’t sure it would ever be repaired. Bucky had a loving parent who would never come back. It wasn’t fair.
Life rarely was.
“Bucky loved you so much. He still does,” you said, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist, a thread that tied the three of you together. “I know he carries you with him and he’s trying to be someone you’re proud of. He’s trying… for both of us.”
Bucky discreetly wiped the corner of his eye.
“I’m glad you two had more time together, and I’m thankful I got to know you for a short while,” you said, placing your hand on the cool stone. “Your son may not have come into my life conventionally, but I know no one will ever love me the way he does.”
Bucky exhaled, releasing a bit of pain he no longer needed to hold onto.
“Please, take care,” you whispered, a breeze rolling by again. “We’ll bring more flowers soon.”
Bucky’s eyes met yours, hope overtaking the pain. “We?”
“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand. “We.”
He didn’t say anything as he helped you to your feet and crushed you against him. He breathed in and out so quickly and deeply you worried for a second that he was going to have a panic attack. It evened out just as quickly, matching yours.
You hugged him tighter, holding on the way he usually seemed to cling to you. His pain and past didn’t absolve him of his actions, and you knew he would make the same choices again if it meant ending up with you. But the love he had for his mother and now for you didn’t have to remain a narrow place of defense. He didn’t have to use it as a barricade. It could be a light, something bright and steady, to guide him out of the darkness he lived in for so long.
It could be a choice.
“I love you so much, Kotyonok.”
Footsteps approached before you could say anything.
Bucky spun around quickly, positioning you behind him to protect you. There was no need. Not when you both realized who was there.
Steve, Thor, Sam, and Nick.
They had their hands in their pockets, trying to appear nonthreatening. It wasn’t an easy feat. Especially with Curtis and Ray in the distance.
Bucky moved to stand beside you once he realized there was no threat. “What are you doing here?” he asked with a bite, clearly caught off guard.
Steve stepped forward. “We wanted to be here for you,” he said gently.
Bucky shook his head, stunned. “I don’t really talk to anyone today. You know that.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to talk.”
Bucky put his arm around you, his hand digging into your hip. You glanced at him, knowing this had to feel overwhelming. People jumped when he demanded it, but when did they show up without him asking?
“It’s also the first year you’ve had her.” Steve’s smile was soft when he looked at you. “We want to make sure you’re both okay.”
“Ray and Curtis scoped out the place,” Bucky stated.
You stepped closer to him. You temporarily forgot the danger that came with being with him. The anniversary of his mom’s death would be a cruel day to attack or do anything, but some were awful enough to try.
“We know.” Nick shrugged. “Still wanted to be here.”
Bucky’s eyes went to each of them. These were men who did awful things and stood by each other through the worst parts of life. They were here for him in his grief. They were here for you, too.
“You didn’t have to come,” he said finally.
“We know,” Steve said.
“That’s why we did,” Sam added.
Thor stepped forward and clapped a hand gently on his shoulder. “You are not alone in your pain. You have us in whatever capacity you need,” he said, his smile wide when he regarded you. “And most importantly, you have your queen.”
You almost shrank under his gaze, but he looked so thrilled to be in your presence. This was the man Bucky thought would happily walk you down the aisle. “Thanks, Thor.”
Steve hugged Bucky, which he returned with one arm since he refused to let you go. “Have to keep touching her, jerk?”
“She grounds me, punk,” he said affectionately.
Steve stepped back and they all gave you both space, forming a perimeter without making it look like one.
Bucky looked back at the headstone. “I’ve never asked them to come, and today they just showed up,” he said in disbelief.
“Maybe they sensed you needed it,” you said.
Friends had those instincts sometimes.
He gazed at you, his expression unguarded. “They were here for both of us,” he whispered, his breath stuttering like he was close to unraveling. “It’s a lot.”
“I know,” you whispered back.
“I don’t break. I refuse,” he said defensively, pressing his forehead to your temple. “I’m not going to cry and sob with my men standing feet away. Even if they weren’t here, I wouldn’t. That isn’t who I am.”
“I know it isn’t, and you don’t have to break,” you assured him.
You didn’t want him to keep it bottled up, but letting emotions out didn’t always mean tears.
“You’re the only one who makes what I feel easier somehow,” he said like it was a secret. “Even when I feel it all at once.”
“We both feel a lot,” you said. You had a different kind of intensity compared to Bucky, but you felt things deeply. “We carry a lot.”
And both of you had to let the hurt go.
“You talking to my mom… I don’t think you realize how much that means to me.”
You leaned into him. “I think I do.”
“I am trying for you.” He took a breath and reached into his jacket pocket. “Here.”
You were confused until he put the small card in your hand.
Bruce Wayne’s card, the one he took without question. You didn’t think you’d see it again. Ever.
“I took it because I didn’t trust him, and because I didn’t trust the world he operates in,” he said quietly. “I thought… if I controlled every variable that nothing could touch you.”
The sad truth was that he couldn’t control every variable. Clark was the perfect example of that. His actions changed everything.
“I may not trust him, but I trust you,” he said as you inspected the card. “And I trust that you’ll never need to call him.”
There was no edge or warning in his voice, but there was his familiar confidence.
“So, you’re learning not to control my world?” you asked, slipping the card into your bag.
His fingers brushed the bracelet. “I just want to be the best part of your world.”
You nodded. He was loosening the hold. Not completely, that would never happen, but right now it wasn’t a death grip.
He took one last look at his mom’s headstone. “Love you. We’ll be back soon,” he promised, kissing your temple. “Let’s go home.”
“Are they coming, too?” you asked
“As thankful as I am for them, you’re the only one I need.”
He walked you toward the car, his men still surrounding the two of you. His steps weren’t as heavy, his body not as stiff. Grief wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t defining him either.
You took your phone out of your purse when you got in the car, realizing that you hadn’t looked at it all morning. There were a couple of missed calls and messages. Bucky must’ve silenced it when he took it the night before.
You read a message from Natasha.
“I know you probably can’t talk today, but call me when you can tomorrow.”
Your stomach tightened in knots before you scrolled to Addison’s name.
“Moving ahead with the Red Room! Antonia is amazing. Thank you and Bucky so, so, so much! You saved us!”
You smiled until you saw the next message.
“Give my regards to James today. And don’t forget I still owe you a favor.”
Zemo.
Today of all days…
“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, reaching over to buckle you in.
You put your phone back in your purse before he could see anything. “Addison and Brady are moving forward with the Red Room.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but it was real. “That’s great news,” he said, waiting a beat before adding, “Do you need to call her?”
“I will later,” you said, knowing she would want to fill you in more and check on you. You wanted to check on her, too.
He sighed in relief. “Thank you,” he said, taking your hand once he started the car. “I know I need to be better about sharing your time, but today…”
“I know. You need me.”
“Always,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips.
You looked back in the direction of the headstone as he pulled away, watching until it was out of sight. His words to his mom didn’t change how you two started, but something shifted again. You really were letting him in, weren’t you?
And Zemo. You didn’t know what you would ask for since you couldn’t get Curtis his freedom. Now wasn’t the time to think about favors anyway.
Because today wasn’t over, and Bucky still needed you.
I did say this would be emotional! Do we think Bucky will really let you keep that card? Will he really try to be better? Is Zemo poking the bear or being considerate? And poor Kotyonok. I think once the adrenaline of it all wears off the body will catch up after that night.
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 39 | Series Masterlist | Part 41
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.6k
Chapter Summary: Bucky just wants to make you feel good.
Chapter Warnings: Kissing, fingering, protected p. in v. sex, DUBCON (due to the surrounding circumstances), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, inner turmoil, possessive behavior, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 , but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You trembled in Bucky’s lap. Your mind and body were starting to run on fumes again. The weight of unanswered questions still weighed heavily on you. Everything you went through pushed you down until all you felt were his hands on you, holding you up when everything else collapsed.
How could he destroy and rebuild everything so beautifully?
He turned your head back toward him when you glanced over your shoulder. “The partition is up,” he reminded you. “No one is going to see you except for me.”
You were glad for that since you didn’t need Ray or Curtis seeing you in a vulnerable state like this.
“I’m going to trust you again,” you whispered, taking a breath to allow the tension in your body to ease.
It was all you could do.
A slow smile spread across Bucky’s face before he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. He deepened it quickly, the outside world fading away. It felt like a promise that everything would be alright, even if just for now.
Your breath hitched as his hand slipped past the waistband of your pants, his fingers tracing your skin with urgency and deliberate care. His tongue exploded your mouth with such hunger that you thought it would swallow you whole. Every kiss threw more fuel on the flames. His craving for you would never stop.
Neither would his love.
“Thank you,” he whispered against your lips in a low, soothing rumble. The other hand on your hip squeezed gently, willing you to melt into his touch. “It’s just us here. You don’t need to think about anything or anyone else.”
“I’m trying not to think,” you told him, grasping his shoulders.
You weren’t lying when you told him you were tired, and overthinking would only serve to exhaust you more. You could let yourself feel for a short time. Feel now, think later.
That was all you were doing though, weren’t you? It was your way of coping with everything that happened. It was a vicious cycle.
“I know, and I’ll take care of you,” he promised, leaning his head back to watch your face. His stormy eyes drifted over you like a sinner turning to prayer. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
His fingers found you slick and warm, your moan escaping and filling the space. His eyes darkened as he explored you like he was trying to memorize the feel of you around him. His thumb brushed your clit in a slow, maddening circle, wetness coating his digits. Each movement was calculated to draw a reaction from you.
“Love how wet you get for me,” he growled, two fingers breaching you and making you tighten around him. “Love that you’re mine.”
His girl. He made sure you’d be his. And so did you, didn’t you?
Your heart rate skyrocketed. The car felt too hot. The space was too small. You needed to breathe. Just breathe.
Was it right to give yourself over again?
Was it wrong to want to forget everything for a short time?
“Stop thinking, Kotyonok. Stop carrying everything. Let me help. Let me make you feel good,” he urged, his fingers moving insistently. “Just be here with me.”
Where else would you be? Your mind wouldn’t go anywhere else. Your path was a circle that always led back to him, just like he wanted. Just like he dictated.
“You take my fingers so well,” he said, leaning up to brush his lips against your ear. “As much as I want you, I won’t fuck you here today. As soon as we get home, I’ll take you to bed and give you my cock. But I need you to come for me right here and now.”
Heat built inside you, your body responding to his touch with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. There was a challenge in his voice, daring you to let go of the very little control you were desperately clinging to. You were going to shatter, and he’d pick up all the pieces.
His breathing was almost as heavy as yours, your growing ecstasy fueling his need. “Come,” he rasped.
Your body tensed as you teetered on the edge and one deep thrust of his fingers pushed you over. You surrendered to the sensations coursing through your veins with a cry. Pleasure washed over you and he held you through it, helping you ride out every wave of your orgasm. It felt good.
It felt like everything was okay.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered in a soothing voice, kissing your forehead.
You collapsed against him by the end of it, your heart pounding in your ears. The high faded and you trembled from the aftershocks.
You expected him to remove his fingers, but they stayed buried deep. The wicked grin on his face sent a chill down your spine. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his thumb finding your sensitive clit again. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily. “We’re just getting started.”
He began to pump his fingers again slowly, making you feel every curve. The circles on your clit were almost lazy, building your need back up and drawing out your pleasure. You could feel your body responding again, even though it seemed too soon.
“Bucky.” Your voice was barely audible, your eyes wide. “I can’t.”
“Shh,” he soothed, his free hand cupping your warm cheek. “You can, and you will. You’re mine, remember? And I want to watch you come apart again.”
He sounded wrecked and you could feel that he was still hard when he shifted you in his lap. You were somewhat shocked he hadn’t grabbed a condom to take you right there. But he was concentrating on your pleasure.
“And if I say stop?” you asked.
His movements stopped immediately, making you whimper. “I’d never hurt or force you,” he assured you, like the very idea of it would hurt him.
You pulsed around him. He promised he never would. Trust. You had to trust him.
“Okay,” you breathed, your back arching when he began to move again. “It just… feels like so much.”
“I know, but I’ve got you.”
Your body betrayed your mind thinking it was too soon for another, your hips moving with his fingers, your breaths coming in short gasps. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss and your hand found its way into his hair. He was determined to keep you teetered to the present.
He broke the kiss, his teeth nipping at your skin again as they trailed down your neck. “Come for me, Kotyonok,” he growled, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. “I want you to make a mess all over me.”
Your lips parted, your chest rose, and you were close to breaking. The storm raged inside you and ecstasy threatened to consume you. He pulled back, looking at you like you were a siren ready leading him to his impending doom with a smile. But you weren’t the one who would drown him.
He’d pull you down into the depths with him.
“Just let go,” he commanded gently.
And you did. Your body convulsed as your second orgasm crashed over you, head spinning and your moans soft. He licked his lips as he watched, his fingers slowing to draw it out as long as he could. You were boneless as you came down, a light sheen covering you.
Would your heart ever stop pounding?
Bucky withdrew his soaked fingers and brought them to his mouth a groan, licking them and savoring your taste. “Delicious,” he whispered, kissing you so you could taste yourself. His eyes softened when he pulled back. “You’re so beautiful when you come undone. I could watch you like this forever.”
Your body continued to hum as he rubbed your back, a comfortable silence settling between you as he pressed kisses along your face. The world outside the car ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, your breathing steadying and tears threatening to sting your eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, helping you settle back into your seat.
You hummed a little. “That was intense,” you whispered, your head finding his shoulder.
Back-to-back orgasms would’ve been intense by itself, but past boyfriends weren’t like Bucky. Making you feel good was an afterthought instead of second nature. You weren’t the center of their universe. The very presence of you didn’t make them feel alive.
You went from settling for what you didn’t deserve to somewhat accepting that your love had chains.
“That’s just the beginning,” he whispered back.
You didn’t know when the car started moving, but Bucky kept his hands on you throughout the entire drive. They brushed over your breasts, your nipples hard against your bra. You whimpered whenever he touched you between your legs, the fabric ruined from your two orgasms. Whenever reality began to seep back in, whether it was thoughts of Natasha or Addison or anything else, he brought you right back to him.
“I need this just as much as you do,” he said, his voice lulling you in. “We need each other.”
Need. Like it was essential for his existence to have you. Resisting him only made him want you more. Giving in did the same. He needed you in every possible way.
Bucky didn’t release you even as the car came to a stop. Your legs felt like rubber as he helped you out, grabbed everything, and guided you to the elevator. You shivered, not quite sure if it was from the cool air or the continuous aftershocks. And his eyes never left you, the burning intensity growing to a fever pitch.
“Where’s my phone?” you asked when he set the bag down inside.
And where were Ray and Curtis? You barely saw them today. God, was Bucky keeping them away from you and out of sight to give you two some alone time?
And to think just days ago you couldn’t stand the idea of any of his men being your shadow.
“You don’t need it right now,” he answered, his fingertips dancing along your side. “Don’t need anyone interrupting us.”
That answered your unspoken question about his men.
Your palm itched to take your phone back, to check who the missed call was from. Maybe Addison had talked to Brady. Bucky smirked like he sensed it. Of course, he did.
“Still trying to take care of everyone else and not putting yourself first,” he said, leading you toward the bedroom. “And as much as I love and admire your giving heart, you’re going to collapse.”
You did keep pushing your limits for that sense of normalcy and control. When were you going to stop? When would you allow yourself to rest?
“And you’ll what? Catch me when that happens?”
“Of course, I’ll catch you,” he replied. “I’d never let you hit the ground.”
He stepped into the bedroom and looked back, patiently waiting for you to follow. The door clicked shut behind you once you entered, sealing you off from everything else. The air thickened around you when he touched your cheek, the scent of your still arousal on his fingers. He brushed a thumb under your eye like he was wiping away an invisible tear.
“Don’t think about anything beyond these walls. Nothing else exists,” he said in a gentle command. “It’s just us. That’s the way it should be.”
His hands went to the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one swift motion. Your bra followed, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. His eyes took in every inch of you, and you made no move to hide yourself. It felt more intimate than before and you couldn’t place why.
“You’ll always want me?” you asked above a whisper.
He made a wounded sound. “How can you even ask that?” he asked, his hand splaying across your lower back. “Have I not shown you that I’ll always want you?”
He leaned down to capture one of your nipples, his tongue flicking the hardened peak. You gasped, gripping his hair when he switched to the other. He gave it the same amount of attention as his hands roamed along your body possessively, over your back. They traced every curve, and your legs shook before he moved you to the bed.
“We’re going to grow old together. We’re always going to be together,” he said, like speaking the words into existence would make them true. “I’ll always love and want you.”
He laid you down gently and got on his knees, carefully removing each shoe. He pressed a kiss to both ankles before he reached up to pull your pants down with your panties. You were naked and exposed, your body on fire strong enough to burn. The flames licked along your skin and left unseen scars in its path.
You were a goner.
You covered your mouth and choked on a sob as he kissed up your legs, your chest barely keeping your heart from bursting through. He stopped before he reached his prize. You lifted your head and gasped when you met his gaze, the desire in his orbs nearly drowning you. The raw need almost made him appear vulnerable.
Almost.
“Am I scaring you again?” he asked, revealing his chiseled and scarred frame when he took off his own shirt. He was a symphony of power and control that some could only ever dream of. “I really need to stop doing that, don’t I?”
“I’m not scared,” you said as he stood up, his knuckles brushing against the hardness in his pants before he unzipped them. “And maybe not being scared should scare me.”
The thought should’ve devastated you.
He stepped out of his shoes and remaining clothing, unashamed. His body was a testament to his need for you. His cock stood proudly and he fisted it, his eyes never leaving yours as he stroked himself. The sight made you shiver.
“We’ve come a long way in such a short time,” he murmured, going to retrieve a condom as wetness surged between your legs. “Lots of bumps in the road thanks to me.”
“All the bumps thanks to you, Bucky,” you muttered, smiling to yourself when he chuckled.
“I fucking love you,” he said reverently, rolling the condom on. “And I can’t wait to fuck you bare.”
He climbed over you, his movements predatory. Your heart pounded faster when he pushed your thighs apart and settled between them. You felt the heat of him, the thick head of his cock as he pushed at your entrance. But he didn’t slip inside. Not fully.
He claimed your lips instantly, coaxing your mouth open. He groaned when you arched into him, but he still didn’t thrust. You didn’t know what he was waiting for.
“Tell me you need me,” he begged, keeping your hips still when you writhed beneath him. “I won’t make you say you love me tonight, even though we both know you do, but just… give me that. Please.”
A shuddering breath escaped. You wondered how much longer he’d wait for you to say you loved him. “Please, Bucky,” you whispered, your cheeks hot from having to beg. “I need you.”
You held your breath when he sighed and slowly entered you. You tensed a little as you adjusted his size. As thick as his fingers were, his cock was still thicker, every inch filling you. He kissed you until your body relaxed, but his body felt tense, too, showing that his control was hanging on by a thread.
“Breathe, Kotyonok,” he whispered, his hips starting to move in a steady rhythm. “We have all the time in the world.”
Electricity cracked as he spread your legs wider and moved deep. You lost yourself with every thrust and allowed him to smother the doubt. The smell of sex and the sound of your bodies coming together flooded your senses like a drug.
“Bucky,” you gasped as he kept burying himself to the hilt.
“Mine,” he growled, rutting into you with almost punishing strokes. Each one pulled a strangled moan from your throat. “Mine, Kotyonok. You’re fucking mine.”
Your body went pliant, your walls clenching around him. You didn’t say with your mouth that you were his, but your body had no issues confirming it. The tight coil in your core snapped without him having to tell you, your pussy spasming and fluttering as your release gushed around him.
Bucky let out an obscene moan at the sight and feel of your orgasm. “Good girl. That’s so fucking beautiful,” he grunted.
You nearly sobbed when he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, your walls still clenching and unclenching. You fisted the sheets when he put you on your knees and drove into you hard enough to make you cry out, your back bowing. The only thing you could do was take him.
“Can’t wait until I can really fill you up,” he grunted, settling over your back, his hips snapping as you whimpered. “I’ll spread your legs while I drip out of you, and I’ll fill you up all over again.”
Your cries bounced off the walls, your cheek flat against the mattress as he pounded into you. Your body jerked when he snaked a hand beneath you and strummed your clit with expert precision. Like his thrusts, all you could do was take it.
“I… I can’t,” you whined as he built you up again, his hand covering yours as he buried his face in your neck.
“Remember what I said earlier? You’re mine. Made for me,” he reminded you in a growl. “Now come for me.”
The broken moan you let out seemed fitting as you fell apart. Orgasm number four seemed stronger than the previous three somehow. You felt him hum against your skin and a few tears may have fallen from your eyes. And he just kept thrusting.
“Almost there. Fuck, you feel so good. Prettiest, wettest pussy, and it’s all mine,” he promised you, dragging his teeth along your shoulder. “Fuck, I love you. I love you so… fucking… much.”
You barely registered him lifting your head and turning it enough to meet his heated gaze, his hair a mess and his cheeks warm. His mouth fell open before he shuddered, finding his release with a deep moan. You both panted hard, his heart beating frantically against your back.
“You’ll tell me you love me soon,” he panted, brushing his lips against ours. “I know you will.”
You let his words sink in. His love, his possession. It etched itself in your skin like a tattoo.
Like a vow.
He rolled you back over once he pulled out of you, giving you a minute to recover as he threw the condom away. As if a minute would be long enough. As if that would sate his desire.
“Four orgasms,” you mumbled as he traced patterns along your back.
“Oh, you’ll have more than that soon,” he promised, smiling like a cat who got the cream. “Because we aren’t leaving this bed, except for a bath later.”
You were quiet for a moment. “Do you think everything can be solved with sex?” you asked, surprised that you pulled yourself from the haze long enough to formulate a full question.
He looked at you, a smile tugging at hip lips. “No, but I think you’ve done enough thinking for a lifetime, and you deserve to feel good,” he answered, wiping your cheeks. “You deserve to be taken care of.”
You closed your eyes, letting him wrap a leg around you. “Thanks,” you whispered.
His mouth touched your ear. “Natasha is looking into the fire.”
Your eyes flew open, but you avoided his gaze. He didn’t force you to look at him, but your stomach dropped as he kept rubbing your back, his fingers digging in a little more. He fucked you within an inch of your life, and he decided to bring up something you questioned. Why would he say that? Why now?
Was he testing you?
“I’m glad she’s looking out for you. Really,” he said in an even tone when you stayed silent, reaching for another condom. “But you’re not her responsibility at the end of the day, and you're not Bruce Wayne’s. Curtis and Ray are only responsible to an extent. And you don’t need any of them when you have me.”
He settled between your legs again, and your trembling hands moved to his chest. “It isn’t a competition,” you said softly.
But maybe it always would be to him. He pushed your parents out. He took Bruce’s card away. Addison and Curtis brought out a jealous side. He had to be number one in your universe.
“It isn’t. It really isn’t,” he agreed, moving your legs apart again with a tender smile. “But I still feel selfish some days.”
You swallowed hard. You still weren’t sure if he was playing a game with you or not. If he was, you couldn’t lose. Not tonight.
“Bucky, you’re the one who said nothing existed outside the two of us,” you said, rolling your hips up. “So, let it be us.”
His smile widened. “That’s my girl,” he praised, kissing you like he owned you. You told him exactly what he wanted to hear, and it filled you with relief as you kissed him back. “Gonna fuck you again before we take a bath. And I want to remind you tonight and every night who loves you the most.”
“It’s you, Bucky,” you whispered.
It would always be him.
I did promise some heat, lovelies. What's Bucky's angle? And I hope you're ready for some emotions soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,982
Summary: Andy proves to be both everything you ever wanted, and everything you thought yourself incapable of having.
Warnings: AU. AI!Robot!Andy. Soft!sweetheart!Reader who is anxious, touch starved, and socially isolates herself. Lots of softness. A bit of angst, too. The opposite of a slow burn but we love to see it.
A/N: I was in the mood for some soft gentle caretaking, so AI!Andy it is 🥰 If you’re new to this story, be sure to check out the first part here.
For the first time in a long time, you slept through the night.
And, even better–you woke up slowly, gently, feeling cozy and refreshed with a smile already curling your lips.
There was a light, fluttery feeling consuming you, and it took a moment for the sleepy fog to clear from your brain. For you to remember. When you did, your eyes fluttered open and you glanced up, meeting Andy’s soft, blue gaze.
That light fluttery feeling inside you intensified tenfold. It felt like there was an entire menagerie of butterflies taking up residence in your tummy, and they decided to all take flight at once.
You genuinely couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t wake up alone. The last time you woke up feeling safe and warm instead of riddled with anxiety.
The relief you felt was staggering. It had a lump forming in your throat as you tried your best to blink the sudden mist from your eyes, instinctively shifting closer to Andy and clinging to him.
“Good morning, honey,” he murmured, keeping his voice low as his fingers caressed along the slope of your cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
You nodded, your eyes fluttering as you replied without thinking, “Very well. I didn’t have any nightmares at all.”
You felt Andy’s fingers still against your skin, then a warm rush of embarrassment–and shame–flood your face. Before you could try to backtrack your words, or quickly change the subject, Andy spoke again.
“Do you have nightmares often?”
Swallowing hard, you took a shaky breath, peeking your eyes open as you glanced up at him, seeing the concern written across his painfully handsome face. “Yes.”
He watched you for a moment, and you could see the curiosity shining in his gaze, which was low key preposterous since he was a robot–but it was there all the same.
Andy’s eyes flickered over your face, taking in the way you were anxiously gnawing at your lower lip, the way you couldn’t meet his gaze, and instead of pressing you for more information about your nightmares, he suggested, “How about you take a nice, hot shower while I go cook you some breakfast?”
Another surge of relief crested within you, and you sank against him, your fingers curling into his t-shirt as you tried not to cry in gratitude.
Because you didn’t want to lie to Andy, but you didn’t feel ready to talk about…that. Not yet.
You were so used to people pressuring you–poking and prodding to try to get what they wanted from you. It’s why you tended to keep to yourself now, why your small social circle had dwindled down to no one, just you.
It was safer that way, because you couldn’t trust anyone else, just yourself.
But now…now you thought that you could trust Andy. He was patient and respectful and could already read you and your needs so well.
He was exactly what you needed–who you needed–and that light fluttery feeling returned as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before gently ushering you from bed.
When you arrived in the kitchen post shower and getting dressed, it was to find Andy just setting your breakfast plate on the table.
You knew, of course, that he was literally programmed with all of your likes, dislikes, and preferences, but it still made you feel special and a little giddy to see he had made your favorite breakfast, just for you.
Cheeks warm as you tried to bite back a smile, you moved toward the chair he stood behind, and murmured a thank you as you sat down and Andy tucked your seat closer to the table.
He smoothed a hand over the crown of your head before taking the seat beside you, dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Your gaze lingered on the flex of his forearms as you reached for your fork. When your eyes flickered up to Andy’s, it was to find him watching you without remorse, his gaze sparkling with just a hint of amusement, and, if you weren’t mistaken, a touch of satisfaction, too.
Which only made you feel more shy as you fixed your gaze on your plate and dug into your breakfast.
“Any plans for today?” Andy asked. “I don’t see anything on your calendar.”
You shrugged as you finished chewing, peeking over at him. “I should probably go to the grocery store. It’s… not my favorite errand but I feel guilty spending extra money to have groceries delivered.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty for taking care of yourself and your needs in the way that works best for you.”
“I know…” you trailed off, shrugging again as you took another bite of food.
It wasn’t so much the added expense, because you could afford it, it was more so the way you avoided going out as much as possible, avoided other people.
Weirdly, it’s what made you feel safest and filled you with a roiling kind of shame that you didn’t think anyone else would ever understand.
“Well, if you want to go to the store, I can go with you so it doesn’t feel so daunting,” Andy said. His hand reached for you under the table, touching your knee and giving it a squeeze that had your belly somersaulting.
“Thank you, Andy,” you whispered, your cheeks burning at his touch that only lingered the longer you avoided his gaze.
“Of course, sweetheart.” His thumb brushed back and forth over your jeans, making your insides swoop all over again.
When his hand finally retreated, you released a shaky breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding. As you pushed your empty plate away, you looked up, your eyes catching on Andy’s.
His gaze was watchful and warm. You couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of you. Did he even think about you at all, beyond whatever it took to interact with you and fulfill his role as your AI companion?
Did he realize how lonely you were? How much you were struggling? That you were broken?
“I’m sorry for just… everything,” you blurted, eyes flickering away as they started to burn. “I know I can be a lot. I just… have a hard time with people and trusting them.”
“You’ve been hurt before,” Andy said, and it wasn’t so much an observation as him just stating the obvious truth.
You nodded slowly, nervously twisting your fingers in your lap as you stared straight ahead at the wall, unseeing.
“A lot of times, you don’t know who someone really is until it’s too late,” you quavered. “Until the damage has been done, and…and there’s no undoing it, no matter how much you wish you could.”
Once again, Andy reached for you beneath the table, his hand enveloping both of yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m exactly who you need me to be, who you know me to be,” he spoke slowly and gently, until your tear-filled eyes lifted to meet his. “And you’re not damaged, sweetheart.”
Your face crumpled at his words, because they were exactly what you needed to hear, even if you didn’t believe them.
But he believed them, and that was something.
Andy moved swiftly, rising from his seat before crouching beside yours. His hand touched your back and rubbed in slow, soothing strokes as you fought against your tears, quietly sniffling as you curled in on yourself.
“I’m sorry someone hurt you,” he murmured, his free hand finding yours and gripping, letting you feel him and feel that you weren’t alone–not anymore. “And I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
Shuddering out a heavy breath, you didn’t resist as Andy gently turned you toward him and pulled you into his arms. You melted against him, your body sinking into the firmness of his chest. You hugged him back tightly–desperately–tucking your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his soothing scent until your tears had run their course and you finally stopped shaking.
When you pulled away, feeling shy and self-conscious, Andy gave you the warmest, gentlest smile you had ever received. It had the heaviness that had consumed you lifting as he gently thumbed the remnants of tears from your cheeks before framing your face and tugging you close so he could press his lips to your forehead.
“Come on, let’s get your errand over with, and then once we’re done, maybe we can go for a walk.” His smile was encouraging as he told you, “There’s a small but highly rated park nearby, I think the fresh air could be good for you.”
“Okay,” you nodded, lashes fluttering as Andy pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Andy,” you whispered as you rose to your feet.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied. “It makes me happy to be here with you, to take care of you.” He turned you toward the entryway. “Why don’t you go get your coat and gloves and get ready to leave? I’ll clean this up,” he gestured to the dining table, “Then be right there.”
Nodding, you gave him a tremulous smile before turning and padding out of the kitchen.
Andy stared after you for a long moment. As he listened to the quiet shuffling of you rifling through the front closet, his head tilted to the side. Across his vision, he replayed a video clip of your conversation from just a few moments ago:
“I’m sorry someone hurt you,” he murmured…“And I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
The clip flickered away, replaced with a freeze frame of your tear-stained face as you looked at him with such a sorrowful and fragile kind of hope. Andy’s nostrils flared, his background programming blaring with the directive to Protect at all costs as he played a final clip from a moment ago, when he told you that–
“It makes me happy to be here with you, to take care of you.”
“Because you’re mine,” Andy spoke softly, so only he could hear. His handsome features shifted, into a look so hard and steely–so deadly–that if you would have seen it, it would have chilled you to the bone. “And I’ll make sure that whoever hurt you never hurts you again.”
Andy was right–a walk in the park had been exactly what you needed.
When you returned back home a few hours later, errand done and your walk having just finished, you felt so much better than you did before you left the house.
In fact, you were giddy.
Because while at the park, as you had contentedly hugged Andy’s arm and enjoyed a leisurely stroll together, an old woman had stopped the two of you to say that you made such a lovely, happy couple.
You hadn’t stopped smiling since.
As Andy shut the front door behind you both, flipping the lock before turning to you to help you out of your coat, that giddiness only increased.
Because Andy was such a gentleman.
From the way he treated you like a cherished, delicate thing, to how he had made grocery shopping quick, easy, and efficient, and now, as he watched you with a look of fond amusement as he hung your coat in the closet.
He really was everything you could ever wish for in a companion.
And despite the fact that was literally why he was here with you–why you had ordered him in the first place–you couldn’t help it as those quiet, insecure thoughts began to percolate in your mind.
It was pathetic that this is what you had to resort to when it came to relationships and finding love.
“Don’t do that,” Andy’s voice was quiet with just a touch of sternness that had you straightening instantly and looking at him with wide eyes.
His face softened into a smile as he moved closer, reaching for your arm and giving it a rub.
“Sorry, I just could see that whatever you were thinking literally wiped the happiness from this pretty face.”
Your gaze dropped shyly as you twisted back and forth before him, not resisting as Andy reached for your wringing hands and gently eased them open.
“Tell me what you were thinking about,” he murmured as his thumb massaged circles against your palm. “Before when you were smiling and then just now, when you started to get upset.”
“It’s stupid,” you whispered, shaking your head.
“Please?”
That had you glancing up, because Andy hadn’t really asked you for much since he arrived. Every waking moment had been spent with him taking care of you, supporting you, providing for you.
Could you really deny him this one thing?
You took a breath before admitting, “I was just… really happy that woman thought we were actually together. A couple. And then… I was thinking that I’m so lame for all of this, for needing to manufacture my soulmate.”
“It’s not lame,” Andy soothed, lifting your hands so he could place a gentle kiss to one set of your knuckles, then the other. “You have a need, and I can fill it for you, it’s logic.”
“Logic,” you echoed, your face falling. “But not emotion.” You frowned as you met Andy’s gaze, your eyes searching his–still so thrown by how real he looked. “You don’t actually care about me though, because you don’t have real feelings. You can’t.”
“I was literally made to care for you,” Andy rebutted. He dipped his face, his earnest eyes catching on yours–trapping you in his gaze. “Whatever limitations you think I have, forget them. We promised that we’d be honest with each other, right?”
You nodded, struggling to maintain Andy’s gaze but also finding it even more difficult to look away. There was this fire in his eyes, this fierce glint that shouldn’t be there.
Because it was this amalgamation of so many emotions that he shouldn’t be able to feel let alone express–especially after such a short time together–warmth and tenderness, want and possessiveness, and the kind of protectiveness that you never thought you yourself would ever experience, especially from another.
“I care for you very much,” Andy said, shifting closer as his thumbs trailed back and forth over your knuckles. “Can I show you?”
You were nearly gaping at him, so taken aback by this moment, by him. All you could do was nod, your breath hitching in your chest as Andy stepped even closer, flush against you.
He traded his grip on your hands for gently framing your face. His thumbs touched the apples of your cheeks, warming the skin there as his eyes flickered between both of yours, his lips curling at the corners at the shock and awe he found awaiting him in your gaze.
When his thumb descended before finding its desired destination along your bottom lip, tracing and earning a soft gasp from you, something in his eyes shifted. You could literally see them darken–dilate with want–for you.
Andy reeled you closer, his eyes darting to your parted lips. Even though he already sought your permission to show you how he felt for you, he asked one more time in a husky murmur, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.
You got a glimpse of Andy’s pleased smile before his lips touched yours, and your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you for the very first time.
Everything about kissing Andy was a practice in gentleness. From the way his big, warm hands cradled your face, to the way his nose knocked yours as he adjusted the tilt of his head. His thumbs even continued their soft caresses along your jawline as his mouth pressed against yours, over and over again, like he was trying to imprint it on your lips–how much he wanted you.
How much he cared for you.
You didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted the salt of your tears trapped between your lips and Andy’s.
He pulled away then, but didn’t go far. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued to stroke your face as you panted and trembled against him, your fingers curled into the sides of his shirt, holding on for dear life.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded out of habit, and then actually processed his question. Just as quickly, you shook your head, sniffling as your brows furrowed and you realized just how overwhelmed you were.
As much as you had wanted to experience this very thing, deep down, you didn’t think it was possible. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but you didn’t think it would be this–so far gone and feeling so deeply and wanting so much, only a couple of days into having met Andy.
He really was everything you had ever wanted, but you were realizing in this moment, that he was also everything you didn’t think yourself capable of having.
Not you.
Not ever.
And yet…
Andy nuzzled your nose with his, stealing one last kiss from your lips before straightening. He kept you folded in his embrace, hands circling to rub your back as he murmured, “Come on, honey, let’s get you settled and cozy, and then I’ll make you some tea. How’s that sound?”
“Perfect,” you answered without thinking. Your wet eyes lifted to Andy’s, and you just watched him for a beat, like your brain was struggling to process that he was in fact real and he was in fact yours. “You’re perfect, for me,” you whispered.
“And you’re perfect, period,” Andy returned without missing a beat.
You giggled, dropping your forehead to Andy’s chest, reveling in the way that he seemed perfectly content to just stand there with you for as long as you wanted, holding you in his arms as you basked in the feeling of being wanted–of finally feeling like you found your other half.
Man, the muse really does have a mind of her own. I went into this all NEED SOFT AND GENTLE PROTECC and now here we are, after alllll the feels some of them murdery lolll.
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