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a-spes · 2 days ago

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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part three (8.929 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further. Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Other Avengers x R. Angst with comfort, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, severe injuries, no happy ending.

| Author's notes — This is the last part of the "Devious Lies" serie, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Many people would say that you are not a hero, not anymore. You have lost this title years ago, the day you revealed your true face to the world by cheating on Natasha —; how could they trust someone with their lives when that person can’t even remain loyal to their girlfriend? A hero is not a human, it is a perfect being that exists for the sole purpose of saving the world, and making children dream. You exist only to give hope to the population, but there is none once they discover that you are just like any of them, someone full of flaws, and failures, just a mess —; just human.

Who knows the horrible things you might have done in the past, or the numerous lies you could have said to twist the reality? Not them, because they know nothing of the truth behind your departure, but they were still convinced that you were a monster who had been lying to them all this time, and it was too late to undo their hatred. A few days had been enough for rumours to spread, suddenly everyone had a story to share that proves how wicked you were. These stories have slowly replaced those of your greatest achievements, the many times you saved the world now forgotten in favor of all the little things you did wrong.

And you know these stories by heart because you have read about them in newspapers, heard them on television and in cafés. Wherever you go, these rumors follow you, they stick to your skin like an obsessive ex that won’t let you go, even after several years. The people never forget, nor they forgive.

Yet, none of them had the courage to hate you to your face. No, it was always behind your back, a bunch of glances they thought were discreet and whispers as soon as you turned around. You might not be their hero anymore, but you haven’t lost your abilities, and they are aware that you could easily kill any of them in less than a minute. But, instead of letting the anger consumes you, you pretended to not see the fear in their eyes, mixed with hatred. Except that, the longer this situation lasted, the more difficult it became for you to ignore their hostility. You would lie if you said it didn’t bother you to see these emotions replace the admiration that used to sparkle in their eyes.

If you are being honest, you have thought about it, about killing some of them. These thoughts come to your mind more times that you care to admit —; it would be so easy to snap their necks so you will never hear their hateful whispers again.

What do you have to lose anyway?

Nothing you haven’t already. At worst, they will send you in prison, but to your exhausted mind the idea sounded more tempting than repellent. Sometimes, you think about it as a sweet dream, and it brings you some peace —; if you were in prison, you would be blessed with ignorance. If you were in prison, they would have a real reason to use these slurs. If you were in prison, you would eventually be where you deserve to be. But, no matter how many times you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and so, instead, you shut yourself away in your crappy apartment, where you could no longer harm anyone.

— — —

“But you are still a hero,” the man told you. It was months ago, almost a year, and it was the first time you had seen Fury since the events that led you to take a break.

A break that was coming to an end, and that you were desperately trying to prolong. Unfortunately, the man is as stubborn as you are, and he is determined to convince you to return to the field. He needs you, and that is obvious, even though those words haven’t crossed his lips. You can feel his desperation.

You disagree with him.

You are not a hero, and he definitely doesn’t need you. There are dozens of agents more talented than you are, dozens of promising, and less controversial, souls who deserve a chance. He should better abandon you now, and let you rot in your apartment, because he will be disappointed sooner or later. But you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you stayed quiet, because the words were stuck in your throat.

“Don’t tell me that you are that kind of agent?” he asked, to fill the silence. The tone of his voice had changed slightly. There was something petty about it, something that is crawling under your skin —; it is the disappointment that his words carry. Yet, you have no idea what he is talking about —; “that kind of agent”? The worlds held no meaning to you, but you could still feel that they didn’t bode well, and that you didn’t want to be that kind of agent. You can see his eyebrows rise in anticipation of an answer you can’t give him.

“What kind?” you asked back, without any conviction, just because you know that is what he expects. You accompany these words with a sigh.

You are not in the mood for this kind of game. You only want one thing, and it is to go back to your apartment, to slip back into the comfort of your sheets and stay there for days to come. In fact, you may never leave them ever again. That is the only place where you can ignore the world, where all your worries disappear along with the rest. The only place where you do not need to be human, or pretend to be strong, where you can be a mess, and no one would be here to judge.

You were really not comfortable at the idea of coming here, to Fury’s office, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. 's headquarters, and being there makes the feeling even worse. He promised you that no one would know, but how could he be sure? The mere thought that one of them could see you there makes you nervous, and prevents you from concentrating.

What if it happens?

What if, despite Fury’s promises, you run into one of them?

You have no idea what you might tell them if it happens. Is it better to beg for their forgiveness, or would it be too much? You bet they wouldn’t even listen to you, anyway —; they haven’t in the past, why would it be different a year later?

Maybe they won’t even acknowledge you, and you should probably do the same —; but wouldn’t it be worse? You are not sure that you could handle this possibility, that you could walk by the people that once were your family as if they were complete strangers.

Maybe it is better if they decide to scream —; that is what a part of you is craving for, no matter how twisted it can be. Because, if they scream, if they still hate you, it means that they care, right? No one would take some of their time and energy to yell at someone they don’t care about, right? Because it wouldn’t make sense.

“The kind that does it for fame,” he replied, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was so intense that it made you want to disappear. You hate it, the way he looks at you, as if he knows all the secrets of your soul, and so you are fidgeting in your seat, unable to stay still because of your nerves.

“No, I am not,” you sighed the words that you knew the man was expecting you to say, falling right into his trap. You are conscious of it, but you are too exhausted to fight, and it is way much easier to give the man what he wants.

Yet, your voice is full of uncertainty —; does it make you a bad person to want to stop helping people? At least, that is what he seems to be suggesting, and maybe he is not wrong. Maybe the only reason you want to stop is because you are selfish —; anyone with your skills wouldn’t hesitate to save the world. But not you, not anymore. Why? When did you become one of the bad guys, one of those who don’t care about others?

You want to tell him — to yell at him — that it is not about lost celebrity, that it was about being hated by almost every soul living on earth, but the words get stuck in your throat —; what’s the difference, after all? Are you really gonna let people die because they do not like you, is that the kind of person you became? No, it is not, and it will never be.

“Does that mean I can count on you?” he asked, and you answered with a murmured yes, because that is what he wants to hear, and because you only want this conversation to end. From the very moment you sat on this chair, you have been eyeing the exit, and you are more than willing to give the man what he wants in exchange for the right to leave.

— — —

Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity.

What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain. It has been several years since you lost the title of hero. It is not about your great successes anymore, it is about all the mistakes you have ever made, the ones that make you detestable in the public’s eyes. Now, you are just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a controversial one at that. You are the rotten apple that the direction doesn’t really know what to do with. They might desperately need you — or, more accurately, your skills — but they do not want the world to discover that they didn’t fire you despite what they had announced to ease the minds.

Nevertheless, you had agreed to pretend, and to play Fury’s little games, because you didn’t know what else to do. You have been a little lost since you left the team, and the missions you were regularly sent on were a good distraction, but it has been months now, and you do not have the energy to pretend anymore.

Once this mission is over, the first thing you are going to do is to tell the man that it is over, you are quitting — yeah, you are going to leave the agency, and start a new life. The idea sounds appealing, and warms you heart with an emotion you thought you had forgotten; a will to live. You have waited long enough. You are not sure what you are going to do yet, but you know that it will be better — anything would be better than your current life. It will be a second chance, and a real one this time. Maybe you will change your name, and your face, and so you could be anyone you want to be — someone that no one hates.

But, for now, the only thing you want is some rest. Slowly, your limbs become numb and, soon enough, you are not able to walk anymore, the ground disappears beneath your feet and you collapse into the snow, your legs unable to support the weight of your body.

Maybe that is your second chance, you thought. Maybe the afterlife will be gentle.

It is so tempting to just close your eyes, to let the cold soothe your pain, and take all your worries away. You don’t know how long you have been walking, wandering around, waiting for help that may never come — probably for days. Days that seemed like an eternity. You were trapped in a landscape that you would surely have found magnificent, had the circumstances of your presence here been different.

The snow falling from the sky covers everything, and not an ounce of greenery escapes it. Yet, the sight wasn’t comforting — it was threatening, and scary. It was so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingertips. Everything was white, and all looked the same, turning the forest into a maze with no way out. The trees rose up, mocking and oppressive, as if they were only waiting for the moment you would give up.

Be patient. It will be soon, you thought, as your body hit the ground in silence.

You hardly notice you’ve fallen. You don’t even have the strength to try and get up, but maybe you don’t want to. The snow forms a gentle embrace, and you feel it begin to cover you in white too. Soon, you are going to disappear, and you’ll become a part of the landscape — How is it going to take, for nature to hide your body, to make it seem like you have never been here? A few hours? And how long would it take for them to find you? Probably more time. Who is “them”, anyway? You are not sure someone is coming from you, and despite your hopes, it is more likely that they won’t come. Did you forget that you have no one? If people do not care enough to show up at your funerals, do you really think that they would go to the trouble of looking for you in the middle of nowhere? What an idiot you are, you should know, by now, that there is no hope.

No one is coming.

Even though the idea might sound sad, it brings a small smile to your face, as well as a weird sense of comfort — The peace you’ve been looking for is eventually within your reach. Soon, the world is going to forget your name, and your story. Maybe they won’t even know that you died here, alone in the woods, where no one can find your body.

You have tried to warn them about the situation. A last desperate plea for help to be sent, but you never found out if they got your message because your broken radio had died before they could confirm. Despite being an experienced agent, you have been caught out of guard by the situation — Should you wait for them here, or should you try to find a way back home on your own? The decision was made for you when the enemies started looking for you, there was no way you could escape them by staying in their base. Outside, you could hide more easily, and maybe even find a way out of here.

Yet, the days went by, and all you have done is get lost in the forest, a labyrinth made deadly by the snow and very low temperatures. There is no room for life in this place, and the fact that you survived for a few days is a miracle in itself.

You were perfectly aware of the risks when you accepted the mission. There are always high risks in this profession, and you were prepared to take them all, even the most irrational ones because nothing scared you — That’s your strength, you’ve never shied away from a mission. You knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, and that the risks you were taking would eventually lead to your demise — But who cares? Not you, nor Fury. Maybe it was exactly what you were both looking for-; the man wanted a soldier, and you wanted a way to die with dignity, which is exactly what he offered you.

And so, you accepted every mission he presented to you, worked on every file that was put on your desk without thinking twice about it. There was always a good reason to accept, many lives to save, and countless threats to the world, and for that, you were willing to take the risks that nobody else wanted to take. That’s what heroes do, right? They put their lives in line, for the sake of the population.

So far, you have done surprisingly well, successfully returning from each of your missions. Yet, you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran out of luck. Maybe your current situation is solely your fault, for thinking that you could keep pushing your limits indefinitely — For forgetting that you are not a hero, only human. The blood between your fingers is there to remind you of that. It is red, as the one of all the people who live on this planet, and you can pretend all you like that you are a hero, but you’ll never be able to escape your condition, that of being human.

Yet, there is something oddly comforting in watching your blood staining the snow. Something that cradles you until your eyes close, something that helps you accept your destiny. These bloodstains are the silent promise that peace will soon arrive, the peace you have waited patiently for for years.

— — —

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman screamed, her voice echoing throughout the room. No one dared looking at her, everyone avoiding her gaze. The team had just returned from yet another search mission, one of their last hopes of finding you, only to inform her that they had lost track of you — Again.

The woman knows that she should not have listened to Clint when he told her that she’d better stay in the Quinjet and rest, something she has clearly been lacking in recent days. He even promised her that he would do his best. They all promised, but it was just lies.

Natasha has waited for them for hours, obviously unable to rest because she was so consumed with anxiety. She had walked the whole length of the Quinjet more times than she can count, waiting for their return. When they came back empty-handed, she was furious. Not only they didn’t find you, but above all they had lost the only hint of your presence that they had managed to find since the search began, almost a week ago.

If she had been with them, things would have been different. She would have found you, she is sure of it — because she would have refused to come back before that happened.

Everything now seemed hopeless, and everyone was aware of this. That probably explains why they are abiding her gaze, not to escape her anger, but because they do not want to witness the pain they could read in her eyes. The spy had always been good at hiding her emotions, and no one had ever been able to read her — even after you left, two years ago, she remained composed — but her mask had started to crack in the last few days, and everyone could now see her worries.

Natasha was the one who insisted for the Avengers to come for you, and although she insists that this decision is only motivated by her duty, everyone knows there is more to it than that — Feelings that the years had not erased, strong ones that she had buried, but which were resurfacing since she learned that you were in danger. You are her weakness, you are the only one that can make her lose her temper that easily, it is as if she was suddenly a child again — One with emotions too big for his understanding. It is like two years ago, when she saw the pictures and felt her heart being shattered.

“It is okay, I am sure that we are going to find her,” a voice raised, and it was Fury’s. The man was the only one to be brave enough to do such a thing, the only one who didn’t fear the redhead, even though he was the one who should be most wary. The man is standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his arms crossed — They could have been talking about their next meal, and he would have had the same fucking attitude, she thought. “She is strong, and smart. I am sure she will find a way to survive, do not underestimate her, Romanoff,” he calmly added, but his disastrous attempt to calm the atmosphere has the opposite effect — All she wanted to do was to violently rip the expression on his face, she couldn’t stand the overconfidence she could read on it, and the calmness that didn’t fit with the seriousness of the situation.

“You know nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth, the only way she had found to not scream at him, “you are just trying to make yourself feel better about what’s happening because it is your fault. One of your agents is going to die, and it is all your fault!” she yelled the last sentence, unable to keep her voice low as she felt the rage building inside her. The man didn’t even care, he sees you as an asset, not as a human.

“She is an agent, Romanoff, and one of the best. It is her job to take risks, and she knew them before accepting the mission. This regrettable accident is no one’s fault,” he said, unimpressed by the redhead’s outburst.

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh, “this mission wasn’t risky, it was suicidal, and you are perfectly aware of that. No one in their right mind would have accepted it, but she was vulnerable, and you knew it, and took advantage of her state to get what you wanted!” she had moved closer, until she was almost spitting in his face, until the accusing finger she was pointing at him almost touched his chest. She knows the man and his tricks, she knows that he always finds a way to get what he wants. “I hope it was worth it because, if we don’t find her alive, I’ll make sure to bury you next to her grave,” she spitted, not even trying to hide her threat — No, not a threat. It was more than that, it was a promise.

Those are the last words she said before leaving the Quinjet.

They have been looking for you for days, and everyone is painfully aware that the chances of finding you are diminishing with every passing minute. Yet, the woman is not ready to stop, not until she has hugged you one last time, dead or alive. Looking for you was no easy task, and every clue they have found eventually led to a dead end — You are too skilled for your own good, she thought, and it was almost frustrating. If it wasn’t for your skills, and your ability to disappear without leaving a trace, they would have found you days ago. If it wasn’t for your skills, Fury would have never sent you on this mission alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have waited for so long before sending a rescue team.

The woman had to beg him, to scream, for him to accept to give in some pieces of information about how you were doing. He said that you were fine. He said that you were fine, but it was just a lie. He looked at her, promising that nothing would happen to you, but he only said that to get her out of his office. As she later learned, the man had no idea of how you were doing because it was a no-contact mission, and if you gave them news, it would only be to share bad ones.

She heard the message you sent, a plea for help playing on a loop in her mind. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, and the cut words that prevented them from understanding your situation clearly, she could feel your fear, one that made her blood run cold — The woman has never heard you being so scared before.

Fury has waited two days before sharing the message with her. He said that he was positive you would find a way out on your own, and it would be too risky to send a team there when they had no idea how the situation was, but she hadn’t listened to him. All the woman could see was how he almost ruined every chance to rescue you for some ego problems, and foolish confidence — Everyone knows that after two days the chances of finding a missing person alive are slim.

She hates him for that. She hates him for allowing you to die.

Or maybe it is herself that she hates, for letting you down years ago, when you needed her the most — If she hadn't, none of that would have happened, you wouldn’t have taken such risks in the hope of achieving some kind of redemption.

“What do you want?” she asked curtly to the person that was following her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was — Steve. In recent years, the man had developed the bad habit of following her wherever she went, convinced that she needed him.

“You forgot that,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder at the jacket in his hands. A wry smile appeared on her lips at the sight of the garment.

“Because I don’t need it,” she sighed, her tone as cold as the forest because of how exasperated she was by the way the man was trying to play hero. Maybe he was one for the rest of the world, but the woman definitely didn’t need to be saved, and especially not by a man that is convinced he knows everything better than everyone else.

“And, how exactly, do you expect to be able to help her if you are freezing to death?” He asked, trying to coax her into taking the jacket — But only someone who doesn’t know her well could imagine having any chance of convincing the woman.

“Did you forget where I am from, Roger?” She asked back, stopping in her tracks to face him, the sudden act surprising the man who almost ran into her, “If you are cold, then you can go back to the jet. No one asked you to follow me. So now, shut up or leave me alone,” she warned him before resuming her journey, the man at her heels. Natasha wasn’t walking in the forest for pleasure, and she couldn’t afford any distraction.

The woman has to concentrate to make sure she doesn’t miss any traces of your presence. These are rare, almost imperceptible, and easily hidden by the snow. She needs to be sure that she won’t miss anything, and that is something she can’t do if the centenarian doesn’t stop rambling in her ears.

Fortunately, the message seems to have got through because not a word was spoken for the next hours, and the two Avengers just walked in silence. Only the snow crunching under their feet broke the heavy silence. It had been hours, and the landscape didn’t seem to change, giving the impression that they were walking in place, or that they were going in circles. No matter where her eyes landed, all she could see were snow-covered trees, but that was until she spotted it. It was almost invisible, but there was no way she was going to miss the only thing that wasn’t white in the landscape — A red stop. A spot of blood, probably caused by a few drops, but that was leading to a trail staining the forest’s perfect white coat.

“Wait! Where are you going?” the man exclaimed when he noticed that his partner had run off, but he got no answer. His eyes weren’t as sharp as hers, and so he didn’t notice the stains straight away.

When he finally catches up with the woman, he was so taken aback by the scene that he was unable to move, or speak. It was so unexpected that he felt like he was daydreaming, and wondered if it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to hallucinate.

There, a few meters away from him, the redhead was kneeling in the snow. She was close to a body whose identity was in no doubt — You. Suddenly, all he can see is the rigidity of your body, the bluish tint of your lips, the snow that is covering your face, but above all the scarlet puddle that is staining the snow, so big that no one could miss it.

“Give me the jacket,” she asked him, her tone firm despite the obvious tremor in her voice. Her eyes never leave you, even for a moment, perhaps because she was afraid that you would disappear, and that she would lose you, again. “Steve. The jacket,” she asked again, but more urgently this time, “give me the fucking jacket, and go get the others!” she repeated, and the shout seems to shake the man out of his torpor because he eventually hands her the jacket before running off, in the direction of the jet.

Natasha didn’t look back, but she heard his footsteps in the snow as he walked away. Now alone, she gently lifts your body, wrapping you in the jacket, and even pulling the hood down your face to protect you from the snow and wind. She can’t help but let her hands linger on your visage, her thumb gently tracing your features, then brushing past your now blue lips to eventually follow the wound on your cheek.

For a few seconds, she allows herself to get lost in the familiarity of your face, but the blood that is left on her thumb after she ran it over your cheek brings her back to reality — You are dying. Maybe you already are, dead. Yet, there is not much she can do before the arrival of the rest of the team, except praying to all the gods whose names she knows, even though she has never believed in them — Please, if you exist, it is the moment to do something good, she thought, and the woman was so deep in her thoughts, trying to keep the last shred of sanity she had, because the last thing you need is for her to lose her temper, that she missed it at first, those words that came out of your mouth.

“What?” she asked, a little abruptly, as her eyes fell on your face. Your expression hadn’t changed, your eyes were still closed, and so were your lips, giving the impression that she had imagined the whisper. “Did you say something?” She nevertheless asked, and several seconds passed in silence. She felt the hope that had made her heart beat being replaced by despair, until she notices the trembling of your lips as they try to come to life. At first, no sound escapes, only a whimper that breaks her heart. “Shh, it is okay, take your time, baby. You can do it,” she quietly encouraged you as she noticed your struggles.

Her hands cup your face, and the warmth of the contact, accompanied by the circles her thumbs are tracing on your cheeks, is comforting. It helps you to ignore the pain for a moment. The gesture even gave you the strength to talk.

“You..,” you started, but this simple word requires so much effort that you need to catch your breath before continuing. “ ..came..,” you eventually added, the second word coming out as a broken whisper, and the woman has to be close if she wants to understand what you are saying.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “yes, I did. W- We are all here, baby,” she softly replied, her voice trembling slightly because of emotion, just like her hands as she continued cradling your face.

They are here? All of them? You thought, and the realization brings tears to your eyes. The woman can also feel tears welling up in her eyes, and you can see them. Yet, she should not cry. She has no right to cry when you need her to be strong and calm your fears. The woman knows it and yet, she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. For so long, she had hoped to see you again, prayed for a second chance even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, but she hadn’t imagined that life could be cruel enough to offer her what she most wanted under the worst circumstances — Once again, she was about to lose the most important person in her life.

“Is.. that.. end.. ?” You painfully asked the woman.

You have once heard a belief saying that the Angel in charge of helping a soul to travel to the other side always takes the appearance of the person the deceased loved the most during their life. You wouldn’t have expected anyone but the redhead to be yours. You may have tried to hate her for years, but the truth is that you have been unable to stop loving the woman.

“Because..,” you continued, but were stopped by a violent coughing fit. “Am.. ready.. now..,” you eventually managed to say. You want nothing more than to touch her face one last time, but your body refuses to listen to your desire and, as you try to move your hand, all you manage to do is to wiggle your fingertips — But it is okay, you thought. You are content enough with being able to see her one last time, and knowing that her comforting touch is the last thing you would feel before Death wraps its arms around your body, taking you somewhere where pain does not exist.

“The.. end?” The woman repeated after you, a bit confused at your words, and you can tell because of how her eyebrows are knitted together. “Oh no, honey, it is not,” she whispered, trying to bring you a bit of comfort. “You are going to be fine, I promise,” she said, repeating those words a few times, unsure if they are really meant for you.

“I.. know.., I.. believe.. you..,” you whispered back.

“Then stay with me, baby, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, please. Just a few more minutes, and then everything will be fine, I promise. Do you think you can do that for me?” She started rambling when she noticed that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Yet, it doesn’t seem to work as she watches you slowly slip into unconsciousness. “Tell me, love, where does it hurt? Could you do that for me?” She attempted, hoping that the question would be enough to ground you, to keep you here, with her, until the others arrive.

“Everywhere..,” you whispered, and it was the last thing you said. You were in so much pain that your whole body was numb, and you could barely feel something, unable to tell the difference between your arms and legs.

You are not sure what happened next, or how long it was before the rest of the team arrived, because despite Natasha’s attempts to encourage you to stay awake, you ended up losing consciousness. The last thing you were aware of was the sound of a vehicle, along with a few words that were yelled, and even if you couldn’t understand what they were saying, you were able to grasp the urgency in their tones. The last thing you remember was being lifted. That is when you knew you could do, before the arms that were carrying you were comforting, they were the promise that everything would be fine now.

After all, she promised. Didn’t she?

— — —

It was all a lie, when she promised that things would be okay now.

Since the very moment you have opened your eyes, after a few days spent in a coma, the world has been nothing but pain. She had promised you a world where suffering doesn’t exist, but had given you the exact opposite, every day being worse than the one that preceded it. Your wounds won’t heal, and despite the weeks that had passed, you were unable to walk properly, or anything without help. Every step you make, every breath you take, are the reminders of what was taken from you.

You had wished for Death. You had waited for the moment you could leave this world almost impatiently, but when the time eventually came, you were brutally ripped from Its arms. When the woman wrapped her arms around you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, whispering the promise that everything would be fine now, you naively believed her. It is not before it was too late that you realized your mistake. You have thought that the woman you saw was your angel, but it has only been Natasha, a human, with her flaws and mysteries.

Why did she even decide to come?

The question has not left your mind since you opened your eyes. It raises a feeling of confusion, and anger, because there is no explanation you could think of that would make a bit of sense.

You have not talked since they brought you there, at the compound. It is a place that you’ve never thought you would ever see again, but mostly a place you never wanted to return to. At first, they thought that you just needed a bit of time to adapt, but the days soon became weeks, and you remained locked in your silence despite their many attempts to encourage you to say a few words. The only sounds they have heard coming from you are the whimpers of pain that sometimes fall past your lips.

Natasha has tried to speak to you, but you would always ignore her questions and ramblings. Yet, it has never stopped her from trying. Even though she is not sure that you can hear her, even though whenever she enters your room, she finds you looking out of the window, staring blankly. The woman had stopped closing the shutters a while ago, so you would always have something to look at, but you probably didn’t even notice the difference. It seems that your mind is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t reach.

You are far from here, from this room you hate with your whole heart but that you can’t leave despite your desires. A room that is not yours, and certainly not home despite what they may say, and you would rather be anywhere else, even if it means locking yourself in your thoughts.

It is something they would have known if they had asked you, but apparently they didn’t think to ask for your opinion when deciding your future. The Avengers Tower is quiet, and comfortable. Somewhere you are familiar with, and where you would be able to get the care you need — The perfect place. The only place. You have no family, no friends, that could have agreed to take care of you until you are back on your feet. The Avengers may not be your family anymore, but they are the only ones who have agreed to bear this responsibility — Or most likely they felt like they had to. You probably want to be here as much as they want you to be there, and you know that they are silently praying that you will go away soon. You are the constant reminder of what they want to forget.

And so, you have slowly found comfort in your own mind. The only place where they can’t bother you, where suffering and time does not exist. Except that, as the days go by, it gets harder to ignore the woman. She is the only one who has never given up, always trying to talk to you when she comes to your room, even though you have never replied once. Whenever she comes to bring your meal, or your medicine, or help you to change, she would stay a bit longer, rambling about anything that comes to her mind — And you hate it. You don’t care about her last mission, nor do you care about the last movie she has seen.

When she is here, time seems to flow slowly, minutes becoming a painful eternity. You wish the woman would understand your silence as the sign that you don’t want to talk, but it is apparently not a sufficient clue because she has never stopped talking.

The last thing you want is to get out of your caparace, because you don’t want to see what is outside, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore the world when the woman keeps invading your bubble. Her voice, her soft touches,.. they held a new promise — Everything will be fine, she continues saying, but now you know it is not true. You have fallen for her lies one time, and promised to yourself that you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. These touches didn’t bring you any comfort, only frustration which then turned into anger. You have felt it boiling inside you for days now — Until you couldn’t bear it any more.

“Why?” You whispered. The woman was helping you to put on clean pyjamas, and you think she was rambling about her day when you cut her off with your question.

You are not sure why you have decided to talk that day. You are not even sure that it was your decision, the broken whisper falling past your lips before you could realize what was happening. You wish you could take back your word, but it was too late. The woman was as surprised as you were, judging by the expression on her face. Her lips are moving, but it is her turn to be at a loss of words.

Somehow, the hesitation you could read on her face made yours disappear instantaneously. Suddenly, you didn’t want to stay silent anymore. You wanted to be heard, to get the anger out of your body because you couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.

“Why?!” You repeated, but this time you yelled the question. At least, it was the intention, but after so much time without talking, the word was nothing like a scream, only a strangled cry. Yet, despite your voice being weak, you realized that you didn’t want to stay quiet anymore — Not now, when you just got it back. Not when there are so many things you want to say, to scream in their faces.

“Why what?” She softly asked, stopping what she was doing for a second. Her hands were resting on your knees as she was talking. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, and had to lower your head a little to meet her eyes. Yet, she doesn’t dare to hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

You scoff when she looks away, doing the same thing as you can feel tears coming in your eyes. She must not see them. “Playing games, are we?” You said back. Your tone is venomous, your words rude, and meant to hurt the woman, even though she took care of you the past few weeks.

It may sound unfair to treat the woman after all she has done for you — After she saved your life. Yet, she is still the one who dumped you years ago, the one who broke your heart, ruined your life, and made promises she couldn’t keep. The truth is that, if you can’t handle her presence, it is because you know that you don’t want her to be really gone — You shouldn’t, but you want more of it, more of her and her reassuring presence. Her sudden gentleness, after she pushed you away so violently, is building your hopes back up. A feeling that is painful when you know that they would never become a reality.

“Listen,.. I-,” she sighed, but before she could find the right words to answer your questions, you cut her, again. You already had enough, wanting this conversation to end, and now.

“If you can’t give me an honest answer, then I don’t want to listen to you,” you abruptly said, warning the woman that she should carefully choose her next words.

The woman may want to say something, but when she opens her lips, no sound comes out — Because she has no idea what to say. The truth is that Natasha is as confused as you are, the same unanswered questions occupying her mind. She doesn’t know why she went after you, and the lack of response keeps her awake at night.

The woman simply knew that she needed to be there, that her place was by your side, and no word was strong enough to describe how worried she had been about you all this time, a feeling that has lingered inside her since you left. She pretended not to care, tried to bury these feelings as she had been raised to do, but it never really left.

You had poisoned her soul, her heart.

But you know. You already know the answers to your questions, you only asked because you wanted to hear them from her mouth. You want her to admit that her actions were only guided by her guilt, not by the love she pretends to bear for you, because that is the only way you would be able to get rid of the painful hope that, maybe, things could go back to the way they used to be.

But obviously she wouldn’t say that.

The great Natasha Romanoff would never admit that she is selfish, and imperfect.

That she is far from the hero everyone thinks she is.

“Get. out,” you eventually asked the woman. She has hesitated, and missed her chance to say something. “GET OUT,” you yelled when you noticed she was about to protest, “LEAVE ME ALONE,” you added, pushing the woman who was kneeling in front of you with all your strength. When she didn’t budge, it only added to your distress.

For once, she listened to you, and left the room. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and just like that you found yourself plunged into the silence you’ve been longing for — Yet, it didn’t feel as comforting as you expected it to be.

Somehow, since that day, you have only felt worse. Since you have found your voice again, you only used it to express your anger, yelling at anyone trying to get into your room. It has been several days now, that your cries have been echoing in the tower, making it clear that you wanted to be left alone. If the past few weeks you have been bearing Natasha’s presence, it wasn’t the case anymore, and now the woman couldn’t even do something as simple as knocking at your door without you screaming. You do not want to see, hear, or feel her — Even the mere thought of the redhead was too much.

All of them had tried to step in your room, convinced they would be the one able to calm you down, but everything they achieved was to worsen the situation. Eventually, they stopped coming, giving you the loneliness you thought you wanted — Then why are not feeling better, now that you have what you asked for?

You are torn apart by contradictory feelings and needs, unable to quite understand what is going on in your mind — It is obvious that you don’t want to see Natasha. And yet, everytime someone other than the woman opened this door, you felt disappointment filling your heart. Maybe that is why you yelled, why you were so angry.

When they eventually stopped knocking at your door, you caught yourself hoping for them to come back. Your days are now an endless succession of hopes, built up at every sound of footsteps in the corridor, and disappointments, when you eventually hear them going away. She has proven you right, you thought. She has proven to you that she doesn’t care, and you have used up all your tears crying over this idea, days and nights.

You wish you hadn’t said those things, that you hadn’t screamed at the woman, because you were now missing her presence. Her gentleness may have been annoying, but it has been so long since the last time someone has been this gentle with you, that now it was gone, you were craving to get it back. She gave you a second chance, and you have thrown it away for what? Nothing.

It took a few days before you eventually decided to leave your room. It was not by choice, obviously, and you only agreed to leave the comfort of your bed because of the hunger that was slowly gnawing at your insides. The last meal you got was the same day as the last time you saw Natasha, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without eating. At first, you told yourself you would endure the pain, that you deserved it for what you did to the woman, but it didn’t make it more bearable, and you eventually gave in.

The plan you made in your mind was easy — Waiting for the night to come, make sure that no one is awake, and then quickly getting down to the kitchen. Only a few minutes, only time to grab some snacks before making it back to the comfort of your room. Yet, you should have known that things never go as they are meant to.

The journey to the kitchen was everything but easy. You have probably been a bit too optimistic about your ability to walk when you thought about your plan. The pain in your leg was so intense that you were only able to take a few steps before collapsing, and had to almost drag yourself down there. Every step felt like running miles, leaving you short of breath. And yet, despite all your efforts, despite your strong will, you were eventually forced to give up when your legs have once again shifted under your weight, leaving you on the ground, unable to get up despite your attempts.

When even crawling felt too demanding, you were left with no choices but to wait for someone to rescue you. Suddenly, you were submerged by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, and shame, that only worsened when you heard footsteps. You didn’t say anything, and only closed your eyes, hiding your tears behind your eyelids. You were softly praying that whoever is here would ignore your limp figure, scattered on the living-room’s floor, and do whatever they came here for as if you weren’t here.

“Oh sweetie, no.. I won’t do that,” a feminine voice softly said, and you immediately recognize it as Wanda’s. It holds a gentleness that is unique.

Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when the woman kneels beside you. For a second, you thought about pushing her away, especially when her hand brushes your hair out of your face. The witch is aware of that, but she also knows that, deep down, behind the walls that you’ve built to protect yourself, you were craving for her attention. That’s why the woman didn’t remove her hand right away, a sad smile stretching her lips when she realized how you were leaning into her touch.

“Are you hungry?” She eventually asked, and you opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the sudden question. You blink, twice, unable to give the woman a verbal answer — But she doesn’t need one. She is perfectly aware of why you came downstairs, and she doesn’t need to use her mind-reading abilities to know that, already aware of how you have been refusing to eat anything for the past few days. “Good,” she whispered, careful with her words. She couldn’t risk you shutting down, again. “Because I was cooking, but did way too much for one person,” she explained, smiling.

It is a lie, and you both are aware of that.

It is past midnight, and the woman was probably just looking for some water. She definitely wasn’t cooking, and is probably not even hungry, but she knows that this innocent lie would help you to feel less guilty. The woman knows how stubborn you can be, and how you would probably have refused if she had proposed to cook you a meal, scared of wasting her time. Yet, she couldn’t let you go back to your room with only a snack. You need energy, if you want to get back on your feet as soon as possible.

“Come here,” she said when you hesitantly nodded, “let me help you,” she added, and you didn’t protest when the woman wrapped her arms around you — Her embrace was soft, and comforting.

“I got you,” she whispered in your mind, “everything will be fine now,” and, this time, the words felt true. It has been a long time since you felt as safe as you did in the Witch’s arms, the woman being the only one who has never treated you differently, or hated you for what happened years ago. She was the hope that things could work out.

THE END. —

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @liasxeatt, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 day ago

Text

I Would Choose You In Every Lifetime » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!40s Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader, Best Friend/TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky would choose a lifetime with you over anything else.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, best friends to lovers, crying, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Why do you insist on getting into fights?” You asked, cleaning blood off of Steve’s lip with a tissue.

“He started it.” Steve says like a child.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend and continued to clean the blood off of his lip and nose.

“What happened this time?” Bucky asks, walking in the alley.

“Nothing…” Steve answers, lying through his teeth.

Bucky knew he’d say that so he looked at you for the answer.

“Some guy was talking during the Army film and wouldn’t be quiet so him and Steve came back here to fight.” You tell him.

“I swear you like getting punched.” He says to Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky.

“Did you get your orders?” Steve asks Bucky.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” He answers with a proud smile.

“Oh my god! I’m so proud of you, Bucky!” You say, hugging him tightly.

Bucky smiles and hugs you back. You kissed his cheek before pulling away from the hug.

“I get shipped out tomorrow.” He tells you two.

The smile on your face faded away. You didn’t know he’d be getting shipped out this soon.

“Tomorrow?” You asked.

“I know it’s soon, but we can still spend the rest of today together.” Bucky says, handing a newspaper to Steve.

Steve read the top headline of the newspaper.

“Stark Expo.” Steve reads aloud.

“We’re going tonight and we got dates waiting for us.” Bucky says.

“You found a man for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. Sorry. I couldn’t find anyone for you, doll.” He apologizes.

“Oh. It’s ok.” You say.

“Come on. Let’s not keep the girls waiting.” He says, putting his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

You followed behind them. Truth be told, you were hoping that Bucky would ask you to be his date to the Stark Expo. You’ve had a crush on him for a while, but you don’t think he feels the same way about you.

When you three got to the Stark Expo, Bucky walked hand and hand with his date. He didn’t pay attention to you at all. Steve’s date paid little to no attention to him. You felt left out.

You stayed till Howard Stark displayed a floating car before walking out. You sat on the stairs in front of the building. Steve noticed you weren’t with him and Bucky anymore and went to find you. He found you crying on the stairs. He sat down next to you and gave you a tissue to dry your tears.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks softly with worry in his voice.

“I’m fine, Stevie.” You sniffled, lying through your teeth.

“No you’re not. Talk to me.” He says softly.

You fiddled with the tissue for a short moment before answering him.

“I’ve had a crush on Bucky for a while now and he brought a date with him. I was hoping he’d ask me to be his date to this, but he didn’t. He’s leaving tomorrow and he won’t know I’m in love with him.” You tell Steve. “I don’t even know if he feels the same way about me.” You added.

“Tell him. I’m sure he feels the same way.” He says.

“How?” You looked at Steve. “He’s with that girl.” You say.

Steve thought about it for a moment when he thought of something.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, standing up and walking away.

Steve walked back to the building. Bucky walked out of the door at the same time Steve approached it.

“I was wondering where you were.” Bucky says. “Where were you?” He asks.

“Comforting Y/N.” Steve answers. “She’s upset.” He says.

“Why’s she upset?” He asks.

“I think you should hear it from her.” He says. “She’s sitting on the stairs.” He tells him.

Bucky nodded and made his way to you. He heard your sniffles from a couple feet away. He sat down next to you on the stairs.

“Steve told me you’re upset. What’s wrong?” Bucky asks softly.

“What do you care? You have a girl with you tonight.” You say.

Bucky frowned. You’ve never talked to him like this. Even when you’re upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again.

“You wouldn’t care even if I told you.” You say.

“Never say that again. I care about you and you know it. Steve knows it too.” He says.

You lifted your head and looked at Bucky.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have asked another girl to be your date to this thing.” You say.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” Bucky asks.

You scoffed before answering him.

“You barely paid attention to me tonight! It’s like I’m invisible to you.” You said, raising your voice a little bit. “You’re leaving for the Army tomorrow and you can’t you see that I’m in love with you!” You blurted out.

Bucky’s eyes went wide when you confessed your love to him.

“You’re in love with me?” He asks, making sure he heard you right.

“What does it matter?” You asked. “It’s not like you feel the same way about me.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

“It does matter.” He said. “Cause I’m in love with you too.” He confesses.

“You don’t mean it. You’re going to meet some nurse in the Army and fall in love with her.” You say before standing up.

Bucky was quick to stand up and grabbed your arm before you could walk away from him.

“Let go of me, James.” You said, trying to tug your arm out of his firm grip.

“Don’t do this, doll. I don’t want to spend my last day with you mad at me.” Bucky says.

“You don’t love me.” You said.

Instead of saying anything, Bucky kisses you passionately, catching you off guard. You kissed him back.

“I do love you, doll. You just won’t believe it.” He says softly, putting his forehead against yours and looking in your teary eyes.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes and caressed his cheek. Bucky leaned into your touch.

“Go fight for our country and try not to die, Buck.” You almost whispered with tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky slowly let go of you. He watched you walk away with a couple tears escaping his eyes. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Your heart broke into a million pieces as you walked away. Bucky felt like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands. You walked away knowing that you’re in love with one of your best friends and you don’t believe he’s in love with you.

70+ YEARS LATER…

Bucky can still hear the last words you said to him before he got shipped off to the Army. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” are the only words being echoed in his mind. He felt like he failed you. He wishes that he poured his heart and soul out to you to confess his love for you, but you could only see him with girls who aren’t you. That’s something Bucky regrets… going on dates with girls who aren’t you. He should’ve asked you to be his doll forever when he had the chance.

“Bucky?” Sam says, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“You ok?” He asks. “You looked like you were in a trance.” He says.

“Yea, I’m fine.” He says.

Bucky isn’t fine and Sam knows it.

“I know me and you don’t know each other like you and Steve did, but you can talk to me about it if you want.” Sam says.

Bucky looks down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers. He was quiet for a moment before saying anything.

“It’s about someone from my past… a girl.” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Was she your girlfriend or wife or something?” Sam asks curiously.

“No.” He answers. “Her name is Y/N and she was mine and Steve’s girl best friend.” He tells him. “Her and I got into a fight the night before I got shipped out to the Army.” He says.

“What was the fight about?” He asks.

“She was in love with me, but I was too stupid to pay her any attention that night and I asked another girl to be my date to Howard Stark’s Expo.” He explains. “I tried to tell her that I was in love with her, but she was too upset to believe me. Her last words to me were-” Bucky felt himself getting choked up on his words and took a deep breath before continuing his sentence. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” He tells him, his voice cracking.

“Are you still in love with her?” Sam asks.

“I never stopped loving her.” Bucky said. “She wouldn’t believe me, even if she was alive.” He says.

“I’m sorry, man.” He says sincerely, patting his shoulder.

Bucky gave Sam a small smile before standing up and went to get some fresh air to clear his mind. He walked down the streets of New York with the light fall breeze blowing with his hands in his jacket pockets. He was walking past a coffee shop when he looked up and stopped in his tracks and seen someone- a woman from his past… you, working behind the counter at the coffee shop.

“Holy shit…” Bucky mumbles to himself.

Bucky entered the coffee shop at the same time you looked up from the cash register, making eye contact with him. He felt his heart skip a beat and your eyes went wide. Neither of you could believe what you two were seeing. Bucky stared at you like he just seen a ghost. You were staring at him with the same look on your face. You motioned one of your coworkers to the register before you walked over to Bucky. Bucky’s eyes never left you for a second. Yours didn’t leave him either. You two stared at each other in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

“Do you umm- want some coffee?” You asked, remembering that you’re at work.

“Yes, that would be nice.” Bucky answers softly. “You know what I like.” He says.

You smiled and nodded your head before going to get him a coffee. Bucky sat down at a nearby table and patiently waited for you.

“Who’s the hot guy you were talking to?” One of the baristas asks.

“One of my guy best friends.” You answered quietly.

“Is he single?” She curiously asks.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at her.

“He’s yours. Got it.” She says before going back to work.

You put the lid on the cup and walked over to the table Bucky was sitting at. You put the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him. Bucky tapped his fingers against the paper cup and you fiddled with your fingers.

“How are you?” You asked after a short moment.

Bucky stopped tapping his fingers against the cup and looked at you. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question without getting upset.

“I’m good.” Bucky finally answers. “How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good too.” You answered.

Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. You opened your mouth to say something, but one of your coworkers told you to get back to work. You took a pen out of your pocket and grabbed a napkin, writing your phone number and address.

“Here’s my phone number and address. I get off of work at 2:30pm.” You tell him.

“Ok.” He says.

You and Bucky stood up at the same time. He watched you walk back behind the counter, going back to work. Bucky smiles before leaving.

When it came time for the end of your shift, you finally went home. When you got home, you seen Bucky sitting on the front steps of your small house. It may not be much, but you call it home.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You say, walking to your front door.

“I’ll always come if it’s you. You know that.” Bucky smiles.

There is was again… the awkward silence.

“Let’s go inside.” You say.

“That would be nice.” He says.

You unlocked the door and walked inside of your house. Bucky followed behind you, closing the door behind him. Bucky took a look around while you took your jacket off and set your things down. He smiles when he seen pictures of you and your parents hung up on the walls. His heart skipped a beat when he seen a few pictures of you, him, and Steve on the wall.

“I suppose you want answers.” You say from behind him.

“Yes I do.” He says.

You and Bucky went to the living room and sat down on the couch so the two of you can talk.

“Let’s start with why you never told me or even Steve that you were alive.” Bucky says, getting straight to the point.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I should’ve reached out to one of you, but I was scared to.” You say.

“What have you could possibly be scared of?” He asks.

“HYDRA finding me.” You say.

Bucky felt his heart drop and his eyes widened when you said HYDRA.

“HYDRA got their hands on you?” Bucky asks, making sure he heard you right.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“When?” He asks.

“Shortly after you… you know.” You say, referring to when he fell off of the train in 1945.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the thought of HYDRA getting their hands on you.

“What did they do to you?” He asks.

“Experimented different kinds of Super Soldier serums on me. None of them worked, except for one. It’s the one that worked for you and Steve.” You explained. “They put me through so many experiments. It hurt so bad.” Bucky didn’t miss the way your voice cracked. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Bucky. So I finally found the best opportunity to escape and I haven’t looked back since then.” You say.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point. Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around you. You melted into his touch like you used to do.

He was ready to start questioning why you didn’t reach out to him sooner, but that’s the furthest thing on his mind.

“I’m so sorry, doll.” Bucky apologizes softly.

“It’s not your fault, Bucky. You didn’t know.” You say and sniffled.

“I could’ve done something. I could’ve looked for you.” He says.

“You are doing something now. You’re holding me.” You say, looking up at him.

Bucky looks down at you. He seen a sparkle in your eyes through the tears. It’s the sparkle he always seen when you guys were younger. He hasn’t seen it in years. It made him smile when he seen it.

“I meant what I said the night before I left for the Army. I am in love with you. I have been for years.” Bucky tells you.

You could tell he meant it this time. Unlike the last time he said it.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes, getting easily lost in them. Your eyes drifted down to his lips. His lips look soft. You wondered to yourself if they were still as soft as the night he kissed you before he left for the Army. You leaned in and so did Bucky. It felt like everything was in slow motion when your lips met his. You two felt that same spark and passion from that night years ago.

Your hands grasped onto his shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands. Bucky’s right hand gently caressed your cheek. You two were lost in the kiss. There was so much passion in the kiss that it took your breaths away. You two finally pulled away, gazing in each other’s eyes breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, almost whispering. “I shouldn’t have let that night end like that. We should’ve ended that night on something good.” You murmured softly.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. As long as we’re together now, everything is going to be the way it should be.” Bucky softly says.

“I love you, Buck.” You say to him for the first time in years.

“I love you too, doll.” His thumb softly rubbed against the skin of your cheek. “I would choose you in every lifetime.” He whispers.

A smile grew on your lips. You softly and sweetly kissed him. Bucky smiles against your lips.

“I would choose you in every lifetime too.” You tell him.

“Does this mean you’re my doll now?” He asks in a whisper.

“Oh, Bucky…” You whispered, lifting a hand to caress his bearded cheek. “I’ve always been yours. Forever and always.” You tell him softly.

“Forever and always.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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stayevildarling · 1 day ago

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can i request a natasha romanoff x female avenger reader when they are together for years then they are celebrating their anniversary but Natasha kind of forget about it cause of their work. When they are about to sleep reader said 'you forgot about our anniversary' leaving Natasha with a confused look but reader sleep it off. Fluff or ended up with smut i think? its up to you hehe love your fics!!!

- 🤸‍♀️

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Falling back into us

A/N: Loved this request!! tysm dear anon🥰

tw/tags: established relationship, female avenger reader, smut (reader recieving, tasha recieving) oral, toys, fluff/hurt/comfort

word count: 3k

taglist:

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The days slowly slipped into weeks as life continued at its brutal pace. Both Natasha and you had been busy lately, days filled with missions or training and just overall Avenger things. And there was no inbetween, either missions where the earth was in your hands and about to end if the Avengers didn‘t save it or boring missions where you and Natasha often joked about any of the recruits being able to do those.

Having been beside each other for years, Nat and you would often be sent on missions together, it being your preference in order to keep an eye on each other but also because how effortlessly you both worked alongside each other. A glance was often enough, communicating in silence when either of you noticed a threat, knowing the other‘s move, Natasha always able to tell when something made you uncomfortable and you equally knowing if something triggered her and reminded her of her past.

And the two of you knew just how to soothe each other after a mission, long baths together, eating your comfort meals together or going out together, mostly enjoying the quiet embrace of each other and in each other‘s arms. Natasha and you had settled a while ago, your relationship a little bit of a rollercoaster at the beginning when you joined, as the Black Widow couldn‘t keep her eyes or hands off you but at the same time didn‘t want to commit, due to her past. But slowly the two of you got closer and now neither of you would have it any other way.

The last few weeks had been especially rough, missions after missions, some short ones and some long ones, some with and some without the Black Widow as the world was a little all over the place at the moment. Today had been another busy day, Tasha still on a mission, set to return tonight, you in and out of meetings with Tony and some other Avengers, all while training some newer recruits while still needing to look after your own form and stay on top of your shape. You knew it was your anniversary today, the two of you having talked about it once in the past few weeks but the subject not coming up anymore.

And you knew Natasha wasn‘t one for big sappy gestures but somehow you wanted to make her return special. Usually if she‘d be gone and you would await home for her, there would be a home cooked meal waiting for her and in return, if Tasha was waiting for you there would be pizza and some beers and the two of you loved both equally. Still you opt for your girlfriends favorite meal, beginning in the early hours of the evening and humming quietly to some music, the thought of the redhead in your arms soon, filling you with excitement. You decided on some cold beers still, assuming she probably needed them, as well as some candles and flowers. Usually the Black Widow would spoil you with the occasional gift or flowers and you noticed she never recieved flowers half as often as you do, the redhead appreciating other things more but still you wanted to make her feel special.

By the time you are finished, you draw her a bath and getting her some comfortable clothes ready and some warm towels, hoping the state she would be in, wouldn‘t be too bad. Time passes slowly and as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, your eyes read over her text of her being home a little later. In the end, you opted for a book and sat on the bed, leaving the door open and giving you the perfect view of her return, excited to run into her arms and enjoy dinner and maybe a bath with her, depending on her mood. But Natasha returned much later, there having been some initial issues with the mission and then some delay on getting home. She had been impatient, despite the missions success, wanting nothing more than to get home to you and coat your face with kisses.

By the time she steps through the now quiet apartment, the smell of food instantly hits her and she smiles to herself a little, loving you even more for this being her return ritual even after all this time. She sees the candles and flowers and wonders just what she had done to deserve this, a little oblivious with the stress from the past few weeks. After setting her bags and parts of her uniform down, she steps further into the apartment only to find your sleeping form on the bed, phone beside you and book still tugged in your lap, the signs evident that you wanted so badly to wait up for her. She wastes no time in silently making her way over, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing for a moment. With practiced ease she blows out the candles, putting the food in some containers for tomorrow before disappearing into the bathroom.

When she returns, hair still damp she smiles as she sees your chest rise and fall gently, wasting no time to get into bed with you and wrapping her arms around you. Sleepily and subconsciously you pull her closer, your arms wrapping around her. „I‘m back detka, sorry it‘s so late“ she whispers apologetically as you mumble something incoherent into her chest. „What did I do to deserve all that?“ she whispers and you open your eyes a moment before whispering „You.. forgot about our.. anniversary?“ but before you can say anything else, you cozily wrap into herself further and drift off to sleep. Natasha‘s features falter at your statement, having been so busy she completely forgot the date today. Guilt fills her further as she remembers the conversation you both had about it a few weeks ago, now understanding the flowers and the lengths you went through for her tonight.

She sighs to herself as she tries to relax, her limps and muscles tired from the mission but her mind wide awake. The redhead can‘t help but feel like she failed you, being Avengers was tough without a doubt as well as important but you had always been more important to her and she can‘t help but feel like she failed you. She stares at the ceiling for a while longer, the image of you snoring softly in her arms relaxing her and shushing the thoughts on her mind until her body eventually forces her to sleep. By the time you wake up next, the sun blinds you for a moment and you sleepily remember Tasha returning home last night, the memory of her laying in your arms filling you with a sense of comfort and safety but as you turn, you notice her absence and your eyes widen for a moment as she would usually sleep in after a mission, the two of you eventually getting up after some cuddles and reconnecting.

Before you can step out of bed however, the door to your bedroom opens, exposing the redhead with a tray in her hand, her features both apologetic and guilty. „Good Morning detka“ she greets you, walking towards you with some fresh pastries, juice and coffee, as well as a little vase with a flower inside. You frown, knowing Tasha certainly wasn‘t one to get up this early in the morning after a mission. She sets it down beside you on the table before straddling you, plastering your face in kisses that have you giggling. „I‘m so sorry I forgot“ she whispers and you furrow your eyebrows for a moment before realizing yourself what the two of you had missed the night before. „It‘s okay Tasha I promise“ you struggle in between her kisses.

She stops her movements to look at you for a moment before whispering „It‘s not“ her features utterly serious as you see the guilt in her beautiful eyes. „You do everything for me detka, your my rock and I‘m sorry I forgot, you went through so much effort and I-„ before she can finish you shut her up with a kiss, your eyes sparkling as butterflies errupt in your stomach. „Tasha- we can celebrate today, it doesn‘t matter“ you reassure and her features ease as she relaxes into you further. The two of you stay like that for a while, your eyes locked onto each other. „You hungry?“ she asks with a smile, glancing over at the tray beside you. „Yes“ you mumble as she begins rambling about the food choices but before she can list them further you kiss her again, more passionately this time as your tongue enters her, leaving her gasping for breath. „Not for that though“ you whisper before her puplis blow and a low chuckle escapes her.

Without warning she flips you both around, the Black Widow on top of you as she begins exploring your body with her mouth and hands, her fingertips soft on your skin despite her lips leaving dark hickies all over you. And despite all this time, Natasha would always explore your body as if it was the first time, treating you as if you are the most delicate thing on this planet, despite her ruthless pace at times. „Tasha“ you moan as she moves lower and lower, having undressed you with ease, leaving you completey exposed. She doesn‘t waste any time as soon as she sees your glistening core, her tongue diving right inside you as a gutteral moan escapes you. Your girlfriend eats you out with ease, moaning at the taste of you, devouring you as if you are the last meal on earth and she is starving. Your fingers find their way to her hair, pulling slightly at every sensation. „You taste so good detka“ she whispers, her mouth on your clit sending vibrations through you.

„Tasha please“ you whisper and she glances at you, her eyes filled with lust and a deep desire to please you before she attacks your clit again, your hips bucking and before you can say anything else, her fingers enter you, slow and gentle at first to ease you into it but as soon as those familiar screams fill the bedroom, she wastes no time in getting you close, her fingers hitting all the right spots as she begins curling them, your hips bucking into her face as you grip the sheets, chest heaving and words leaving you, the only noises, moans and the occasional screams. „God“ you moan, which causes her to look at you, her fingers still inside you as your walls clench around you. „I‘m not god detka“ she teases but you can‘t hear her, too taken back by the ecstasy of it all and before you know it, her mouth is on your clit again, your juices beginning to flow into her mouth and your girlfriend picking up the pace again.

„Cum for me detka“ she demands and it‘s all you need to send you spiraling over the edge, your body trembling as her fingers still inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm as she licks you clean, sucking all your juices, leaving you a panting, moaning mess. Once she pulls her fingers out, she holds them to your mouth and you open, tasting yourself on her fingers, which sends a low moan her way. She gives you time to adjust, crawling on top of you as she kisses you sweetly. „Breathe detka“ she instructs and you open your eyes, remembering you forgot to breathe for a moment due to your orgasm. As soon as your eyes find hers, you can‘t help yourself, ignoring the slight aching of your body and the exhaustion, as you lay her next to you, attacking her swollen lips, your tongue entering her again. „Eager are we?“ she teases and you bite her lip in response, knowing it‘s her weakness and shushing her quietly.

You take your time to undress her, kissing every inch of her body, a new bruise and cut that formed from a mission, despite the eagerness and the equal want, this being essential to you always. Natasha‘s head moves to the side, giving you perfect access to her neck as she moans your name, your fingers slowly travelling to her clit and exposing her soaked center. „I love you Tasha“ you whisper as you travel lower, your tongue licking through her folds and collecting her juices. She watches your every move, closing her eyes as you your tongue explores her, gently. Without warning you take the small vibrator from the other side of the bed, having hidden it there while she was fucking you senseless. As soon as she feels the cold sensation on her clit, her eyes open, eyebrow furrowing but as soon as you hold in the button, the familiar vibrations spread through her, causing her eyes to widen and her breaths to become unsteady.

You can tell she wants to scold you for surprising her like that but the pure desire takes over as you hold it firmly against her clit, her body shivering at the vibrations as you didn‘t bother with the first few low settings, going max straight away. Your fingers dive into her with ease, her walls instantly clenching around you, her eyes finding yours, mouth slightly agape. „Detka.. don‘t stop“ she whispers and you smile, not planning on doing that anytime soon. You switch your movements from time to time, letting the small vibratior travel lower and lower before it enters her, your mouth attacking her clit before slowing it all down, leaving her a breathless moaning mess.

Knowing her body so well by now, you can tell she is close, letting the small vibrator enter her again as her hips begin bucking against you. Your hands travel to her nipples, pinching them gently before your mouth settles on her clit again. „Detka..“ she moans and before you know it you send her spiraling over the edge, her orgasm washing over her as her nails settle on your back, leaving marks. Before she can calm down fully and slow her breathing you take out the toy, abandoning it somewhere closeby before your tongue enters her again, wanting to lick up all her juices. Her eyes widen at the sensation and you smirk once you realize she is close yet again. „Cum for me Tasha“ you encourage her before entering her again and without warnig her juices fill your mouth, causing you to moan as you clean her up.

Her breathing is heavy as you settle on her chest, laying in her arms and watching her coming down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, her eyebrows are raised and you can tell you would pay for this next time but it‘s replaced by love seconds later as her thump wipes over your mouth, cleaning some of her arousal from your face. The two of you stay like this for what feels like forever as you steady your breathing together, your hearts beating in synch against each other‘s chest and falling deeper into the moment and holding each other. It takes a while before you move again, the smell of food causing you to lick your lips, which Tasha can tell. She stands up for a moment, getting dressed again and helping you into your own clothes before she hands you a pastry.

„Juice or coffee?“ she asks softly and you smile at her before whispering „Juice please“ she hands you a glass and you can‘t help but wonder why she set on such fancy cutlery and glasses this morning. „Couldn‘t you find the regular cups?“ you tease but Natasha remains quiet as she stands beside you, waiting for you to see. And just as you are about to drink, you see something sparkling in there and carefully take it out. The sight of the ring with a small but beautiful diamond takes your breath away and you look at her in shock, not understanding at first. It‘s when she drops on one knee that the picture falls into place, when your full name leaves her lips so perfectly. „Detka I love you“ she begins, your eyes already glistening with tears as she is still kneeling in front of you, holding onto your hand.

„I never want to stop coming home to you, be badasses on missions together and I never want to miss anything like this ever again“ she confesses and the tears flow freely now as she carries on. „Will you be my wife?“ she whispers, her own eyes sparkling and all you can do is nod, completely taken away by what is happening. She smiles to herself as she carefully puts the ring on your finger, having planned this for a while, this not necessarily how she wanted to do it but then her not being one for great gestures either and you both preffered it this way. Once she stands up, you pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her as you kiss her. She wipes your tears gently, a proud smile on her lips as she admires the ring and how hot you look as her soon to be wife.

Once you calm down and realize this isn‘t a fever dream, your eyebrows furrow as you meet her eyes. „Tasha I thought you didn‘t want-„ you begin but she stops you. „I know darling, I never thought this was for me but I never want to be anywhere else than with you ever again“ she confesses. And for the remainder of the day you stay in each other‘s arms, Natashas confession having taken your breath away, never expecting this when first meeting the Avenger, certainly not expecting this when you woke up this morning but neither of you would have it any other way. And one thing was for sure, Tasha would never forget an Anniversary again after this.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers #mcu #marvel #writing #lgbtq

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Just Friends: Trapped Inside

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky takes you away.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky puts the tray of processed mac and cheese before you. You stare at the steam coming off of it. He has a fork in his other hand but hesitates to hand it over.

“For the food only,” he finally sets it down.

You pout, “Bucky, I wouldn’t...” you sink your chin down, “you know...”

“I do,” he agrees with a sigh. He pulls out the chair across from you. “Let’s talk.”

You sniffle and scratch your nose. You fight back tears as you keep your eyes on the noodles. You slowly take the fork and stir in the cheese.

“Do you have ketchup?” You ask.

He sucks in a breath then clucks, “sorry, no.”

You swallow and shrug, “that’s okay.”

He shifts and leans on his elbows, clutching one forearm as he crosses his arms. He taps his fingers on the table. He tilts his head, “will you look at me?”

Your lashes flutter and you obey. The last time you disobeyed him, he put you in a trunk. Your face contorts at that thought but you quickly tamp down the fear.

“Don’t... I’m not a monster,” he says.

You can’t say anything. You’re not sure about that anymore. Not sitting here in this strange underground bunker.

“I’m your friend,” he continues, “is it so bad that I want more? That I like you so much that--”

“No,” you blubber and quickly swipe away the tears as the spill. “No, if you were my friend you would listen to me.”

“Doll, where’s the fairness in that when you won’t listen to me?” His voice deepens.

“I did and I just... that’s not what I want. It’s not what I’m looking for--”

“I told you the same thing and you made me go on that date with that prissy bitch,” he snaps. You reel back in the chair and drop the fork, stunned by his harsh tone. He cringes and sits up, raising his palms as he calms himself. “Look, I said it over and over. That you were enough. You are enough for me, dreamy. You are everything to me.”

Your lip trembles and your chest locks up. Breathing hurts. You shrink down and mop your cheeks with your fingers, unable to stop the flow. It’s all broken now. There’s no going back. Why did he have to ruin it? You never meant to put that idea in his head.

“Dreamy,” he rasps and stands, “don’t cry, please--”

You flinch and hug yourself with a whimper. He staggers before he can come closer. He shakes his head, “no, no, you’re not going to make me feel that way. I haven’t hurt you.”

“You have,” you garble. “You... you... grabbed me and put me in the trunk and...”

“Because you need me. You need—You don’t get it. You don’t get it because you assume the best in everyone and everything. Even me. The world isn’t going to be nice forever.”

You snivel and try to suck back the deluge. You lower your eyes and steady your breath. You’re shaking as your grief is drowned out by something else. Anger.

“Like you.”

“Me?” He hisses and strides around the table.

You look up at him defiantly and furrow your nose like a rabid dog, “yes, you. You couldn’t just be nice. You couldn’t just take no for an answer.”

“What about you? It wouldn’t be like this if we didn’t go on that damn date!”

“No,” you snarl.

“Dreamy,” he points in your face, “watch it.”

You snap your mouth shut and wince. You stare at his finger then look him in the face, “or what?”

“You called Sam behind my back--”

“No, you threatened me,” you stand up. “What are you going to do now, huh? You already trapped me, so what else is left?”

“Dreamy, come on,” he grits.

“Don’t,” you sneer. “You don’t know how the world’s been to me. You don’t know that it’s always been nice. You just assume because you hate everything that everyone should. Well, I’ve seen hate and I don’t like it! Why do you think I’m alone? It’s not because the world is nice?”

You blink and glare up at him. Beneath all your frustration, embarrassment needles through. You shake your head and back away. He blocks you and grabs your arm.

“Dreamy, you never said. We’re friends so why--”

“No, we’re not,” you say. “You just want to use me, like everyone does.”

“That isn’t what this is.”

“Leave me alone,” you rip away from him and turn to swipe the tray off the table. “Just go away.”

You stomp away, bracing for him to grab you. He doesn’t. You cross the room and stop before the wall. There’s nowhere for you to go. You turn and pace one way, then the other. You sense him across the space, watching.

He gets down to clean up the mess. You ignore him as best you can. You walk in circles, driving yourself mad as reality bubbles up around you. He’s not going to let you go. Even if you hate him. If you could bring yourself to feel that.

You don’t see him and dare to peek over. He’s gone. You hear movement but don’t know where it’s coming from. Good, he can keep himself busy.

You go to the door and stare at the barrier. If only you had a metal arm. Your eyes burn again. You drop your head and turn your back to it. You can’t just stare a hole through it.

You press your back against the metal and slide down to your bottom. You bend your knees to your chest and hug them. You bow your head and let the sobbing shake through you.

The tears build a wall between you and the world. The sadness aches in your skull and scrapes in your throat. You heave until you’re spent and shivering.

There’s a click and the flames licks louder. You turn your head to look at the artificial fireplace. “Cold in here,” Bucky says. You close your eyes. “Got the bed made up. You’re tired. You need some good sleep.”

You don’t answer him as you turn your face down. You stay entirely still. You don’t have the strength to move. You'll sleep right here. You don’t want his guilt. Not when he won’t change what he did. That’s not guilt, that’s greed.

He nears and you squeeze your eyes tight. He scoops you up and you stay rigid. He carries you through the safe house as you stay closed up inside yourself. He puts on something soft but you don’t let go. You hide in the darkness, wishing that there was light left to see.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #just friends #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #au #captain america #avengers

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cece693 · 2 days ago

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tony stark x male reader who’s kinda shy and quiet but crazy good at math and science and all those equations. something fluffy and cute thank youuuuuuu

Brilliant (Tony Stark x M! Reader)

Announcement: for those who have been following my Velvet Ring trilogy fic, I've created an AO3 account where I intend to flesh out the story. Here's the link! Also, since I'm not smart myself, I didn't go in-depth about science and calculations, so forgive me :(

Tony Stark was many things: a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—but being in a committed relationship? That wasn’t exactly the headline he wanted plastered all over the news. Not because he was ashamed—far from it—but because Tony had learned the hard way that the world had a way of ruining what mattered most. And you? You mattered more than anything.

You were everything Tony wasn’t—quiet, thoughtful, reserved. While Tony thrived in the spotlight, you thrived in the solace of your work, diving deep into equations and theories that would leave most people with a headache. You were a prodigy in your own right, a quiet storm of brilliance and ingenuity. The kind of man who didn’t seek recognition, only results. Tony couldn’t help but admire that about you—and, though he’d never admit it out loud, you kept him grounded in a way no one else could.

Tonight, you were sprawled out on the couch in your shared apartment, wearing a faded hoodie and sweatpants you’d stolen from Tony long ago. A notebook rested on your lap, filled with scribbled formulas and diagrams. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of your pen against paper.

The sound of the front door opening broke your focus. Tony stepped inside, tie loosened and suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when they landed on you.

“Hey, handsome,” he greeted, his voice warm as he crossed the room. “What did I say about math after ten?”

You glanced up, rolling your eyes. “You said it’s a house rule. I said it’s not enforceable.”

Tony smirked, plucking the notebook from your hands before dropping it onto the coffee table. Sitting beside you, he wrapped one arm around your shoulders, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. “You were late,” you muttered, resting your head against his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Just the usual corporate nonsense,” Tony replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how it is—saving the world, keeping the board happy. Exhausting, really. I’m practically a saint.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of responding, your eyes kept flickering toward the discarded notebook on the table. After a moment, you shifted slightly in his hold, trying to reach for it. Tony groaned dramatically, tightening his grip.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling you closer. “I just got home, and you’re trying to ditch me for math? Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been? I’ve been deprived of your presence all day, and this—” he gestured at the notebook—“is more important?”

You bit back a laugh, managing to wiggle out of his grasp. “I promise it'll be worth it."

Tony crossed his arms, slumping back against the couch like a sulking child. “Fine, but if I die from lack of cuddles and attention it's on you.”

Grabbing the notebook, you turned back to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You look fine. And for the record, this 'math' you're referring to is yours."

That caught his attention. His brows furrowed as he sat up straighter, his earlier theatrics forgotten. “Mine?”

You nodded, flipping open the notebook and holding it out to him. “You mentioned the other night that you were having issues with stabilizing the power output on the Iron Man suit. I’ve been working on it.”

Tony’s eyes scanned the pages, his expression softening with each line he read. Your neat handwriting detailed calculations, theories, and possible solutions. You’d even diagrammed potential fixes, complete with annotations on how they’d improve efficiency. “You’ve been working on this?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “For me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know it’s been frustrating you, so I thought I’d try to help.”

For once, Tony Stark was speechless. His eyes flickered between you and the notebook, the weight of your gesture hitting him like a freight train. You’d spent your time—not for your own research or projects, but to solve one of his problems. It wasn’t just the effort or the brilliance of your work—it was the care behind it, the way you always seemed to go out of your way to make his life a little easier.

Tony set the notebook aside, reaching for you instead. His hands cupped your face, his gaze warm and filled with an emotion he rarely let himself feel this deeply. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and full of affection. It wasn’t the usual teasing kiss he’d steal when he was being playful—it was deeper, more vulnerable. A silent thank you, a promise that he’d never take you for granted. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest. “You’re worth it, Stark. Even if you are a little dramatic sometimes.” Tony chuckled, pulling you into another kiss, his heart full and his mind already spinning with ideas. If this was what it felt like to be loved by you, then he never wanted to let it go.

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thesamimarie · 1 day ago

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THE HAIR! THE BEARD! FUUUCK

~ Good Morning America ~

#reblog #good morning america #interview #red one press #chris evans #red one promo #marvel fanfic #avengers #avengers fanfic #Steve rogers #Steven Grant Rogers #Captain America #marvel men #marvel pov #marvel Tok #marvel edit #marvel

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incorrectquotesmcu · 6 hours ago

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Peter: There's a kid screaming outside. Don't you think we should do something?

Wade: You're right, we should.

Wade: [closes the window]

#source: unknown #peter parker incorrect quotes #peter parker #spider man #wade wilson #deadpool incorrect quotes #deadpool #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

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avengerscompound · 3 days ago

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Tony Stark & Carol Danvers Avengers (2023) #17

#marvel #avengers #marveledit #comicedit #caroldanversedit #captainmarveledit #tonystarkedit #ironmanedit #tony stark #iron man #carol danvers #captain marvel #avengers (2023)#616 #jed mackay #valerio schiti #marvel comics #avengerscompoundedit

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 days ago

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Consider:

Reader wanting to cross some stuff off a bucket list and wanting to go skydiving with Bucky.

Maybe a bit of angst with the quite-literally-falling-into-HYRDA’s-arms thing, but mostly y/n (and Sam) making fun of him for not doing it until he caves and does it in spite of his fears

Bucky didn’t like it all that much, understandably so— but it gets Dr. Raynor off his butt for the week, so maybe it wasn’t that bad

Bucket List » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend/TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader with Sam Wilson/Falcon

Summary: You want to cross sky diving off of your bucket list and you ask Bucky to go with you.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, language, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

“Bucky, just the person I was looking for!” You said as you walked in the living room. “Do you want to do something fun and adventurous with me?” You asked, sitting down on the couch next to him.

“That depends on what your definition of fun and adventurous is.” Bucky says.

“Sky diving.” You say.

Bucky stayed silent. He doesn’t really want to do anything that involves falling off of something. Like what happened in 1945 when HYDRA got their hands on him.

“Well?” You waited for him to respond. “Doesn’t it sound fun?” You asked.

“No.” Is all he said.

“Why not?” You asked.

“It sounds dangerous.” He says.

Sam laughed out loud when Bucky said that.

“You think sky diving is dangerous? You literally jumped out of a plane without a parachute the other day.” Sam said.

“Wait what?” You said. “Did he really jump without a parachute?” You asked, looking at Sam.

“I have it on video.” He said. “I can show you if you want.” He says.

“Do not show her that video.” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

You pouted and moved closer to Bucky.

“Are you scared of heights or something?” You asked.

Sam laughed out loud again.

“This man isn’t scared of heights.” Sam says.

“I can speak for myself, man.” Bucky says to him.

“Then give her a reason why you won’t go sky diving with her.” He says.

You and Sam stared at Bucky, waiting for him to give you a reason why he doesn’t want to go Sky diving with you.

“I already said it’s dangerous.” Bucky repeats. “That’s my reason.” He says.

“Bucky, you literally do dangerous things when you’re on missions.” You say.

“She’s not wrong.” Sam chimes in.

“What’s your point?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

“My point is…” You handed him your little notebook that has your bucket list of things you want to do. “I want to cross more things off of my bucket list and sky diving is one of them.” You say.

Bucky opened your little notebook to your bucket list page. You had stars drawn around sky diving.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky tossed the notebook on your lap. “Find someone else to go with you.” He says.

You laid across Bucky’s lap so he couldn’t get up.

“Please?” You begged, staring up at him.

“No.” Bucky says.

You pouted and stuck your bottom lip out. You know Bucky can’t resist it. It’s taking everything in him to not say yes to sky diving.

“Nice try, doll.” Bucky gently moved you off of his lap so he could stand up. “I’m not going to give in with that look this time.” He says.

You sat on the couch, watching as Bucky walked to the kitchen to get something to drink.

“I think the real reason why he doesn’t want to go sky diving is that he doesn’t want you to hear him screaming like a scary cat.” Sam jokes.

“Probably.” You giggled.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter, listening to you and Sam basically making fun of him. He was quickly growing irritated. He slapped his hands on the counter to get you two to stop. You and Sam jumped at the sound of Bucky’s vibranium hand coming in contact with the granite countertop.

“Are you two done making fun of me?” Bucky asks, sounding irritated.

You and Sam know better than to irritate Bucky. Let’s just say it never ends well.

“I’m gonna leave now.” Sam stood up from the couch. “Good luck trying to get the bionic staring machine to go sky diving with you.” He says, patting your shoulder as he walked past you.

Bucky sighs loudly and rubs his hands over his face. You stood up from the couch and walked over to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I shouldn’t have made fun of you.” You apologized, putting your chin on his chest.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad at you.” Bucky says, wrapping his arms around you.

Bucky leaned against the edge of the countertop while he held you in his arms. A grin formed on his face. If he goes sky diving with you, that means he doesn’t have to go to therapy. At least, that’s what he thinks.

“Ok, fine.” He finally gives in. “I’ll go sky diving with you.” He says.

“Yay!” You cheered, kissing his cheek. “You’re the bestest friend ever!” You say.

That warmed Bucky’s heart when you said that.

You grabbed his hand, leading him to the car.

“Did you actually jump out of a plane without a parachute?” You asked curiously.

“Yes.” Bucky answers. “That wasn’t one of my finest moments.” He chuckles.

“I’m still gonna watch that video Sam has of you jumping out of it.” You say teasingly.

When you and Bucky got to the sky diving place, you felt yourself getting more and more nervous by the second.

“It’s ok.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “You don’t need to be scared. I’m here with you.” He coos.

You smiled and nodded. You took a few deep breaths before the sky diving instructor told you and Bucky can jump. Bucky had his vibranium arm wrapped protectively around your waist the whole time.

“You were right.” Bucky said as you two got to the ground. “This was fun and adventurous.” He says.

“I told you!” You exclaimed with a smile.

Bucky seen your little notebook with a pen in your back pocket and grabbed it. He opened it to your bucket list page and crossed off sky diving.

“Let’s see how much of this bucket list we can cross off in a week.” Bucky says with a smile.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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iheartsebstan · 3 days ago

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#sebastian stan #marvel #bucky barnes #avengers #winter soldier #captain america #mcu #avengers infinity war #marvelcinematicuniverse #fws

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theredlanternavenger · 2 days ago

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🤭

Margartia Karapanou, Rien ne va plus (translated by Karen Emmerich) • Jackson Holbert, Moth after Chessy Normile • LL, Venus | Unsent letter • Kamilah Aisha Moon, 1st Vote • Chana Bloch, THE RULE OF GRAMMAR • Fleurie, Love and War • Warsan Shire • Margaret Schnabel, Untitled

#avengers #stony #iron man #captain america #extraordinary

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Right This Way

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get lost on a campus on your first day of college and a helpful stranger shows you around.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: this is the third of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’ve leapt over one hurdle for the day but it won’t be the last. Your first lecture is done, but now you have to find your way to the second. Typically, you’d be on your way home. For years, you languished in part-time or sabbatical coverage but now, you have achieved regular faculty status. It might not be the school you hoped for, but these days, a job is a job.

You gather up your things as the class disburses. A few keeners come down to ask you about the midterm and you assure them it’s only day one. Full details will come soon. In the meantime, they can review the readings schedule.

You set your phone on the corner of the table as you search for your wireless mouse. You bring your own. You’ve had enough experience with neglected classroom equipment.

“Hey, Miss,” a deep voice rolls behind you and swings you around. A young man with golden hair, a square jaw, and a letterman jacket stands across the table. He is a factory-issue frat. You had your share of those in your own time as an underclassman; as a professor, they don’t often bother you unless they get an F. “Just wanted to chat about a few things I got this term.”

“Oh, sure,” you say as you reach for your phone. His eyes follow your hand. His cheek dimples.

“You on your way to Ford too? We can walk and talk if that’s easier?” He offers.

You’re not sure if you should take his eagerness as a good sign. At least he is mindful. At first glance, you don’t expect that.

“Um, if you don’t mind, I have my next class there,” you agree.

You hike up your bag and black the screen of your phone. You’re a bit embarrassed that he noticed the maps wide open on your phone. You’re still gearing your way around.

He waits patiently, bouncing in his brown leather Vans as you round the table. “Steve, by the way.” He offers his hand in an overly formal gesture. You know that brand of frat. They put on that gentleman act for the elders. It’s a charm you would’ve fallen for twenty years ago.

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” you shake his hand then continue to the door.

He hurries past you and pulls open the door ahead of you. Again, that overly helpful gesture twinges your suspicion. He must be asking for something big.

“So, I play baseball,” he begins as you set off down the hall. He quickly catches up, walking parallel with you. “And I just got my schedule. I can get coach t give you a call if you need but I’ll be out of town for a few classes...”

“Right, baseball,” you repeat. You’re not fighting the senate on this one. They prize their start athletes much higher than due dates. “I’m sure we can figure it out. Did you have your schedule with you?”

“Um, you know what, I don’t have it printed but I can email it,” he says.

Once more, he opens the door ahead of you. You step out into the early fall sun and descend the steps. It’s a quick conversation, it might be awkward to stick around.

“That works,” you agree. “I don’t want to keep you so if you want--”

“Nah, really, I’m headed in your direction,” he insists. “You do know where that is, right?”

You look at him. His blue eyes gleam. You peer around and shake your head, “that way?” You point.

He laughs, “no worries, professor, I got you.”

He puts his hand on your lower back and points in the opposite direction. You turn to move away from his touch. You blame the little club he’s joined in his youthful arrogance. They never do abide by the rules. After all, he is asking for exception, so why wouldn’t he overstep other barriers.

“So, you must be new,” he intones.

“Here, yeah,” you confirm.

“What else do you teach besides Renaissance history?”

“My specialty is medieval but I’ve taken on various subjects; ancient warfare, Victorian culture,” you rattle off. You know he doesn’t really care. For the jocks, classes are simply an afterthought. “What got you into this subject?”

“I like art,” he says. “Figured it wouldn’t be a bad elective.”

“I hope,” you reply. He points you around the curling path. You hesitate. You peeked at the map. This seems wrong but you did find the only dead end on campus earlier.

“You seem young for a prof,” he says.

You snort, “I don’t give extra credit for compliments.”

“I mean it,” he argues.

“Right,” you huff dryly. “Steve.”

He smirks as you glance at him, “wow, you got that professor voice down. ‘Steve’.” He mimics your tone and chuckles. You shuffle closer as you pass a group of young girls but he doesn’t seem to notice them.

“Like I said, it isn’t my first gig. Just new around here.”

“I think you’ll like it,” he intones. “Nice campus, nice people,” he preens. “A few profs pop by the parties even. Open invitation.”

It’s your turn to laugh, “oh, I’ve outgrown that.”

“Classy lady, I’m sure,” he agrees. You’re not sure if he’s complimenting you. “Well, what about back in the day?” He wordlessly gestures you along as he guides you. “You are party girl? Sow your wild oats?”

“That was a long time ago. It’s probably better left back then,” you deflect.

“Come on. I won’t judge. I’m a bit of a square myself. I’m the designated tidier. I pick up after all the drunks,” he snorts.

You hum. You don’t miss those days. Everything was so much more stressful. Not just classes but everything outside of it. Who to hang out with, what to where, where to go.

You slow as you look around again. You’re behind one of the large gray buildings but not too sure where. It’s a path lined with trees and abstract statues. They’re benches and an engraved stone wall memorial. You don’t see any buildings close by. Maybe it’s one of those at the other end.

“Told you, it’s a nice campus. Doesn’t seem like you’ve gotten to see much of it,” he says.

“Not yet,” you agree.

“It’s a short cut. Trust,” he says.

You nod and continue on. He turns towards the twisted metal owl and you go with him. You really don’t think he’s going the right way. You sneak your phone out of your pocket and press your thumb to the screen.

Suddenly, you’re nearly knocked off your feet at he bowls into you.

“Woah,” he collides with you so hard your phone falls onto the ground. “Shit-- I mean, holy cow. Sorry, miss. I tripped on--” He steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. “Did I--” He looks down at your phone on the stone path. “My bad.”

He scoops it up before you can and you recoil. Your eyes wander away from him and you examine your surroundings. The trees, the statue, it all blocks you off from the main path in an eerie way. You can hear the bird’s tweeting and the coeds chatting but you can’t see them.

“Damn,” Steve’s voice draws you back as dread simmers in your stomach. “I think it’s cracked.”

He walks ahead of you as he examines it. You trail him, “it’s fine. I can take it to the store and have them look--”

“I’m real sorry, professor,” he cradles the phone between his large hands. “I’m such an oaf. Bet I’m not gonna get that extension now, huh?”

“Everything’s okay, Steve. You can give me my phone,” you reach for him as he leads you into the shade of a large oak. “What are you doing?”

He pulls his arm back, aims, and throws your phone. It flies through the air as you gasp and lunge forward. What the hell?

His arm wraps around you from behind and he swings you back. You cry out but only for a split second before his palm smothers your mouth. He leans his body weight back and brings you down with him into the grass. What is he doing?

You struggle to get away. You grab at his arm hooked around you and claw at the grass with your other hand. You writhe and try to twist away from him. He follows you, crushing you to the grass beneath him. You wheeze as his weight forces the air from your lungs.

You flail both arms and sink your fingers into the dirt as you fight to drag yourself from under him. You can’t. He growls as he pulls his arm from under you and grips the back of your skull. He keeps your head twisted on your neck, clamping it between his large hands.

“Shut up,” he snarls. “Be good for me, professor, and this will all go quickly.”

You gurgle into his hand as your heart hitches. Why is he doing this? You said yes. You didn’t argue.

“I’m going to move my hand and you’re going to stay nice and quiet, aren’t you?”

You try to scream into his palm and he wrenches your head down into the ground. The grass is soft but the impact is enough to make your nose fuzzy. He hushes you.

“I mean it, alright? Shut your mouth or I’ll fill it with dirt,” he snarls.

You whimper and nod, puffing against his palm. Your body tenses before you slowly make yourself go limp. You lay your head against his hand and let your arms still. You raise your hands slightly to say, ‘see, I’m good’.

He huffs and slowly drags his hand away, smearing your spit across your cheek. You sniffle as your eyes prick and you inhale the scent of dirt. You can hardly breathe as your chest throbs and burns.

“Ah, don’t act so hard up,” he chuckles. “Bet you don’t get a lot of guys these days,” he pushes his knee between both of yours. “Sad, cause you don’t look half bad in this.”

He tugs your skirt up your legs as he shifts his weight around. The satin tickles your thighs and sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes, your forehead flush to the ground. You liked that skirt so much. You bought it just for your first day.

The thought stabs into your heart. You push your hands flat to the ground and brace yourself. Denial cords around you as terror clogs your throat. This can’t be happening but it is and all you can do is let it.

“Mm, not bad,” he rasps as he pushes between your thighs. “Come on, loosen up for me.”

He moves your slack legs apart and runs his fingers along the cotton of your panties. He purrs as he traces the edges along your ass and back again. He snakes his hand under you and presses against the fabric and feels your folds through the thin layer.

“I’m so goddamn hard right now, you have no idea,” he says.

You chuff out air. You try not to hear him, not to feel him. He slips his fingers beneath your panties and rubs your lips. He pets your head as he cooes in your ear.

“See, I’m being nice. Isn’t that nice? I know you wouldn’t be shaking like that if you didn’t like it.”

He rubs between your folds roughly as he presses his crotch against your ass. He rocks against you as he teases you. You scrunch your toes tightly as a tingle crawls along your thighs. No, please. You don’t want to feel anything.

He purrs as he continues to move his pelvis, breathing heavily behind your ear as he growls. He stretches his fingers along your cunt and delves into you. He pushes his hand further and curls his finger through your entrance.

The heel of his hand brushes against your clit as he moves. You whine as the coil winds around and around and around, tying up your guts in knots. You shudder and bring your hands to your hand, digging your nails into your scalp as you spasm. You cum, slickening his touch as a mortifying moan escapes between your lips.

He slides his fingers out of you. You groan. Your tears leak out and trickle onto the grass. He trails his hand around, leaving wetness along your shirt. He angles above you, pushing your knees apart with both of his. He splays you and tugs your panties to the crease of your thigh.

His zipper slices the moment. Your breath cramps in your chest as you hold it in. He guides his tip along your thighs. He feels you quiver, teasing and toying, as he rubs up and down your folds. He slides up by your cheeks and you clench. He laughs and traces back to your entrance.

He uses his thumb to push his tip through your resistance. You tighten around his intrusion and squeak out your breath. He shushes you and you swallow down a sob. He inches into you, his own exhale flowing over you like a cold storm.

He sinks in to his limit and you bury your toes into the dirt. You heave as he pulls back and thrusts in again. Your shoulders curl with tension and your spine locks. He pumps again and moans, petting your hair as he falls into a rhythm.

“God, you’re tight,” he grits. “I heard... well, I guess everyone lies.”

He runs his hand down the side of your head and beneath your forehead. He forces your head up and nuzzles your hair as he tilts into you. He puffs across your scalp.

“I didn’t see a ring,” he reaches up to clasp your hand, twining his fingers through yours as he continues to rut.

He keeps you like that, fucking you harder into the dirt. He lifts his hips, slamming them down so his zipper bites at you. He pounds at you relentlessly, shallow breaths mingling damply in the cool autumn breeze.

You open your eyes and stare across the grass. Your vision blurs around the tree trunks and wooden benches. Your grief and glazes over and drowns you in horror.

“Welcome to campus, prof,” he growls between nipping your ear. “Oh... and don’t worry about those missed classes. I didn’t make the team.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #autumn #marvel #mcu #captain america #avengers

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