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artficlly · 8 days ago

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this is (not) fine [one-shot]

marvel au bucky x personal assistant!reader

personal assistant rules: don’t crush on bucky barnes. definitely don’t misinterpret a flower purchase and spiral into silent heartbreak, and absolutely never ever get stuck alone with him in an elevator.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, oral (f receiving), public (ish) sex?, wall sex (?), okay they fuck in an elevator guys, kissing, angst, miscommunication (not badly), hurt/comfort, there's some plot if you squint, insecure/self-conscious reader undertones, reader is an overthinker, reader is horny lol, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: hi, hopefully this will keep you all fed while i work on part five to lessons in lovemaking. finally getting around to some of these requests in my inbox. this one is based off this request, but i changed it up so the reader is a PA instead of an avenger. lmk your thoughts thanx for reading <3 sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

You’d never pegged Natasha as the type who enjoyed flowers.

No, she struck you more as the encrypted-flash-drive-on-a-park-bench type, the kind of woman who appreciated mysteries with teeth. A custom leather jacket, stitched with the same precision she used to dismantle a glock. One of those sleek, low motorcycles. Not daisies. Not peonies. And definitely not whatever soft, pastel nonsense Bucky was currently handing over cash for.

You stood a few feet away, halfway hidden behind a sidewalk sign advertising oat milk lattes and gluten-free muffins, clutching a cardboard drink tray and a bag full of vegan pastries in a death grip. The barista had spelt ‘Bruce’ as ‘Broose’ again, and under any other circumstance, that would've made you laugh, but now it felt like the most irrelevant thing in the world.

You liked Natasha. You respected her. You just didn’t think she had it in her to giggle over roses like the girls in those sappy rom-coms Clint insisted he hated (right before he would watch three in a row, a beer in each hand). But there Bucky was, brushing pollen off a bouquet of pale pink ranunculus, face soft in a way you’d never seen during mission briefings or sparring sessions.

And suddenly, you were building a list in your head of all the things you were sure Natasha Romanoff would rather receive as a romantic gesture: a knife, balanced perfectly for throwing, an expensive bottle of vodka, a vintage chess set with hand-carved pieces, a bottle of expensive ink and a fountain pen with a sharp nib, cookies—messy ones—overloaded with chocolate chips, or simply just black coffee, straight from the pot, no sugar, no cream. Yet, as Bucky handed it over to the redhead, she smiled. Smiled. And suddenly you felt like you were witnessing a scene you were not welcome to.

Truthfully, it stung. Maybe it stung a little more than what was appropriate. You’d been harbouring a quiet crush on the dark-haired, sullen supersoldier from the moment he joined the team. Fresh out of Wakanda, new vibranium arm in tow, and god, he was handsome. Not in the polished, television commercial way Steve was, but in a way that made your pulse skip and your thoughts stall mid-sentence. He had the kind of face you didn’t know how to look at for too long, sharpened jaw, stormy-blue eyes, and a mouth that always looked on the verge of saying something he’d regret.

There was something electric about his stillness. Like if you leaned in close enough, you’d hear the hum of danger beneath his skin. He walked like a man who never quite trusted, drifting through the tower like he expected a fight around every corner. He barely spoke, but when he did, his voice was low and gravel-worn, something that settled right in your gut and made its home there.

He never smiled. Not really. But sometimes—sometimes—you’d catch a flicker of it when Sam teased him, or when Steve nudged him just right, and it was devastating.

And yeah, maybe you had a soft spot for broken things trying to heal.

As the Avengers’ personal assistant, it was your job to keep everyone comfortable, informed, and running like clockwork. You were a one-person organisational machine, constantly juggling the chaos that came with managing a tower full of enhanced individuals with the emotional range of a brick wall to a nuclear reactor. Your days were a blur of colour-coded schedules, back-to-back briefings, and the never-ending group chats.

You coordinated mission debriefs, booked international flights with military clearance, and handled press requests that would make most people cry. You endured complaints when Thor overloaded the power grid again, trying to make toast, and even replaced the mugs he shattered before anyone noticed. You wrangled Clint’s kids when they came to visit, sourced obscure snacks from remote parts of the world because Sam liked those protein bars, not the other ones, and Steve wouldn’t touch anything processed. You replaced a record number of coffee machines, hunted down whatever special detergent could get oil out of Tony’s designer shirts. You knew which brand of muscle balm Banner preferred and how to order it without triggering a random Homeland Security check.

And then there was Bucky.

With him, it was always a little extra, whether he noticed or not. His schedule came first in your Monday morning rounds. You made sure the pantry was stocked with the Eastern European tea he liked but never asked for, and remembered the exact setting he preferred on the tower’s training room temperature controls. You adjusted group plans so he’d be paired with Steve or Sam, just in case the crowds and questions became overwhelming. When he disappeared for a few hours, you didn’t ask questions, but you made sure no one came looking. You even swapped out the scratchy tags in his mission gear with soft ones, because he never complained, but you noticed the way he fidgeted with them.

Every day, you’d beam at him like some hopelessly love-struck idiot when you handed over his usual coffee—black, two brown sugars, just the way he liked it—and in return, he’d offer little more than a grunt. A low, barely-there sound that most people wouldn’t even register as a greeting. But you did. Somehow, that grunt became the highlight of your day.

So yeah, maybe seeing him hand over flowers to Natasha broke something in you. Not just a hairline fracture, but a quiet, splintering break that left your chest aching in places you didn’t know could hurt. Still, you understood. Natasha belonged to his world, effortlessly cool, all smoke, shadows and secrets. Yet she was kind. Not cold or unapproachable, just… carved from something rarer than you. The kind of woman who didn’t need to try to be extraordinary, she just was.

And you? You were the sweet, well-meaning assistant who made people laugh in the kitchen, who fetched dry cleaning and remembered everyone’s birthdays. You were the one who labelled tupperware and chased down Clint’s kids with bandaids. You were an afterthought, the background noise in the buzzing hive which was the Avengers Tower.

So maybe you could justify feeling jealous, but angry? No. Not really. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. And it wasn’t their fault that you’d let yourself hope.

—

Two weeks later, and you timed it perfectly, like you always did.

Just as the door to Bucky’s apartment clicked open, you rounded the corner—folder in hand, clipboard tucked tight to your side. The hallway was quiet, save for the low hum of ventilation and the soft thud of your heels against the carpet. Bucky stepped out, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, hair tied back, and his hoodie sleeves shoved up just enough to show the gleam of vibranium. Predictable. It was routine, every morning just before six he would meet with Steve in the gym. On Mondays, you’d catch him just as he exited his apartment, unload the details for the week, a freshly printed schedule and all.

“Morning,” you said lightly, handing him the week’s itinerary. His reply was his usual, a grunt. Not annoyed. Not grateful. Just Bucky. That gruff, barely-there sound that once felt like a small victory. The kind of grunt that used to warm your chest when he followed it with a question, even if you knew the answer was printed in the folder you’d triple-checked. You always answered anyway. You liked having his attention, even just for a few seconds.

You used to dress the folders up with care, multicoloured sticky notes marking key tasks (blue for meetings, yellow for reminders, red for anything urgent and green for personal events). You’d highlight sections like traffic lights, add stickers you thought might make him smile, sometimes even scribble little crooked cartoons in the margins with cheesy encouragements—seize the day!

The folder looked rather sad today, just a plain manila folder packed with stapled papers. No colours. No stickers. No effort. Just the essentials. You didn’t let your fingers dawdle when he took it. Didn’t smile like you used to. Just handed it over and kept your gaze somewhere past his shoulder.

Bucky took it slowly, eyes flicking down at the cover like he was trying to spot something that wasn’t there. His brow pinched, barely, but enough for you to notice. His fingers lingered on the edge of the folder, like he thought maybe he’d missed a note tucked inside.

You nodded and turned to leave, forcing yourself to shift your mind to your next chore mentally, restocking med supplies in the Quinjet, cross-checking Clint’s revised travel forms, hunting down the coffee machine Tony had threatened to ‘repurpose as target practice’. You’d have to order a replacement before the morning debrief. Double-check everyone’s dietary preferences. Update Steve on the tech room schedule. Get maintenance to repaint the lines in the training room because someone (probably Thor) had scuffed them again.

You stayed busy. It helped. Kind of.

But the guilt still trailed you like a shadow.

It was probably obvious how abruptly you changed. The way your voice had lost its warmth. The way your gaze dodged his like it might burn you. You wondered if he noticed, if he thought you'd simply grown tired of him. Maybe he had. That was better than the truth that you couldn’t stand to be near him, not when every glance felt like pressing fingers to a bruise you’d caused yourself.

You had made your choice, professionalism. The kind of cool, curated detachment you admired in Natasha, only it felt all wrong on you, like an ill-fitting coat. You knew it was for the better, not mixing up work and matters of the heart. You’d already let your little crush spiral too far, thinking maybe—just maybe—if you tried hard enough, you’d earn more than a grunt. That he might see you as something more than the charming assistant with her clipboard and her stupid stickers. But he didn’t. And he wouldn’t. And that was fine. It had to be.

You couldn’t afford to fall apart over a man who had no idea he’d broken your heart.

But it was Bucky’s voice, soft and unsure, that startled you from your thoughts. “Hey.”

You paused mid-step and turned, forcing a tight smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes as your fingers curled against the clipboard. “What’s up?”

He shifted his weight, clearly caught off guard by the fact that you stopped walking at all. He was rather devastating to look at when he grew all shy and unsure, fingers fidgeting against the edge of the folder like he didn’t know what to do with them. He didn’t quite meet your eye as his weight shifted nervously, like he hadn’t thought before he called out.

“Uh. Nothin’. Just—” He raised the folder slightly, an awkward gesture. “You usually give me the rundown. Y’know… what everyone’s doing. Who’s where. Who I’m stuck with.”

You swallowed. Of course, he’d noticed. Of course, he’d grown used to your chatter about meetings and mission rosters, about who was off-world and who was due back, like it was the weather. The casual, effortless way you used to tell him what movie was playing, who cheated at Monopoly the night before, or which team member had stolen the last protein bar. You’d always done it to help, keep him grounded, and make him feel like part of the team, like he belonged.

But after what you’d seen two weeks ago, you were sure he didn’t need that from you anymore. Natasha would look out for him now. She’d keep him balanced, keep him fed, keep him from slipping through the cracks.

“Nothing interesting’s happening,” you shrugged. “Just the usual.”

He didn’t move. “Well… there’s that dinner. On Friday.”

You gave a curt nod, tone clipped. “Yes.”

“Wanda’s dinner,” he added, as if you hadn’t already acknowledged it.

“Correct.”

He hesitated again, brows drawing together in a faint crease of worry. You could see him floundering, stuck in some internal scramble. It made your chest ache because you knew that look. You’d helped talk him down from that look more times than anyone else in the tower probably realised.

You sighed quietly through your nose, against your better judgment, against every wall you’d tried to build in the past week, you caved. He looked five seconds away from spiralling.

“It’s in there,” you offered gently, nodding toward the folder. “On your schedule.”

“Right. It’s just… for me, you usually…” His voice trailed off, frustration and uncertainty knotting in his brow. “Sorry. You’re probably busy—”

That felt like a punch to the gut.

You shook your head and, before your pride could stop you, your feet were already moving back toward him. His eyes dropped as you reached into your pocket for a pen, scribbling ‘Wanda’s Dinner – Friday’ on a green sticky note. Green for personal events, always. You hesitated, then added a smiley face underneath. You peeled it off and stuck it neatly onto the folder in Bucky’s hands.

His eyes dropped to it, finger brushing over the paper like he didn’t quite understand why it mattered so much. “Thanks.”

You just nodded, already stepping back, spine straight, pretending your heart wasn’t hammering in your throat.

“She said…” Bucky cleared his throat, clearly not done with the conversation. “Wanda said she’s going to do curry.”

You paused, unsure what to do with the information. Why was he telling you that? Why was he still talking?

“That’s nice,” you said carefully, not sure what to do with this strange, lingering version of him.

“Are you going?” he asked suddenly, and you frowned.

“I wasn’t invited—” You began, already covering from the invasive thoughts, already working to mask the sting. You didn’t want to imagine them next to each other over curry, leaning close, whispering in the way people did when they thought no one else was watching. It would only make the crack in your chest worse.

“You should go,” Bucky said quickly, cutting across your thoughts. “I’ll tell Wanda you’re coming.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll be busy that night anyway…” You lied through your teeth, heart thumping hard against your breastbone as Bucky’s face crumpled a bit. You cut in before he could argue any further. “You’re going to be late. For the gym. It’s nearly six.”

“Right, shit, yeah. Sorry, I just…” He trailed off again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if you were more confused or stunned by his sudden jitters.

—

Before the whole flowers incident, you made it your unofficial mission to ‘accidentally’ bump into Bucky as many times as humanly possible in a day. Now? It was the opposite. Every hallway was a trap to avoid, every room a potential ambush. Navigating the Tower had turned into something between a tactical stealth op and a personal game of hide-and-seek.

Unfortunately, your strategy for quiet withdrawal hadn’t gone unnoticed.

In fact, Bucky had picked up on your sudden cold shoulder almost immediately. The folder debacle had only been the first of many increasingly awkward run-ins.

There was the time you’d practically sprinted away from the elevator when the doors slid open to reveal him standing inside, a brow raised and coffee in hand. Or when you turned a corner too fast and walked straight into him, muttering a rushed apology before disappearing again like you were being hunted. Then there was the silent, painful breakfast you’d shared at the communal kitchen counter, where you busied yourself with peeling an orange for ten minutes straight while he sat beside you, occasionally glancing over like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to begin.

You’d even pretended to be asleep on the common room couch when he walked in one evening, piles of paperwork scattered, laptop still open, only for him to drape a throw blanket over you before quietly leaving again.

And yet, instead of giving you space like you’d expected and hoped for, he seemed to find any excuse to be around you. He trailed after you like some misplaced puppy whenever he wasn’t buried in a mission or holed up in a meeting.

You’d assumed that the moment you stepped back, he’d naturally gravitate toward spending more time with Natasha. It made sense. Why wouldn’t he want to be around her? They were obviously dating, even if they hadn’t made it official yet. Maybe it was one of those quiet, close things kept just between friends, like Steve and Sam. Who were you to come barreling in and expose their secret entanglement? You expected Bucky to be relieved to no longer be on the receiving end of your babbling, your perfectly-timed coffee deliveries, or the not-so-subtle gifts you littered around.

But if anything, Bucky seemed determined to figure you out. Like your sudden shift had become his new pet project, and he was personally committed to cracking the case.

You’d taken the back hallway, the long, winding route that steered well clear of the gym on your way to the shared office. High-traffic areas were too risky now—too many chances to run into him. But clearly, Bucky had caught onto your little detours, because as you turned the corner, there he was, headed straight toward you.

You froze for half a second, pulse quickening. Turning around would be too obvious. Suspicious. He’d know exactly what you were doing, and then your carefully-constructed avoidance strategy would unravel entirely. If he suspected anything now, you were one panicked backpedal away from confirming it.

It was a nightmare. And a daydream.

A part of you, some soft, hopelessly romantic piece, ached at the sight of him, at the quiet way he seemed to look for you, worry always etched into his brow like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. But the rational part of your mind, the part that had dragged you into this self-imposed emotional lockdown, screamed that letting him get closer again would only undo all the fragile healing you’d managed to piece together.

So you steeled yourself.

Shoulders squared. Laptop and paperwork clutched like a lifeline. Eyes locked on an imaginary point just past his shoulder. If you kept walking and moved quickly, calmly, maybe he’d let you go. Perhaps he’d pretend not to notice how your pace picked up and your gaze carefully avoided his.

You nearly made it.

But of course, he noticed.

“Hey, wait—”

His voice was hesitant, just enough pressure to pull you to a stop. Your footsteps faded into the hush of the corridor, your spine straightening instinctively as you turned. Bucky stood a few paces behind, one hand lifted halfway between reaching and retreating, like he’d almost grabbed your arm but lost the nerve.

He looked sheepish. Timid, even. It killed you.

You swallowed. “Yeah?”

He scratched the back of his neck, boots scuffing lightly against the floor. “Did I… forget to grab my coffee this morning? Or… did you not bring it?”

A pause. Too long. You could feel the beat of your pulse behind your sternum as you forced a casual shake of your head.

“No, sorry. That’s on me. Slipped my mind.”

The lie didn’t sit well in your mouth.

It hadn’t slipped your mind, in fact, it was still sitting on the corner of your desk, cooling beside a stack of unfinished paperwork. You’d brewed it, as always. Even used the brown sugar he liked. But then you’d walked away from it, deliberately, like some idiotic breadcrumb trail you hoped he might follow.

God, you were pathetic.

Your stupid fucking brain couldn’t even decide what it wanted anymore. One half of you was charting escape routes through the tower to avoid him, the other was fantasising about him pinning you to the nearest wall. From the way your thighs pressed together now, breath catching as his voice brushed over you, maybe the answer wasn’t distance at all. Perhaps you just wanted to taste him—

He didn’t move. Just stood there, one brow lifted, faint worry creasing the edge of his expression.

“You’re usually down by the gym by nine,” he said, his voice low. “It’s eleven.”

“I’m running a bit behind today.”

“You usually text me if you’re running behind.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging like it didn’t matter, “I didn’t this time.”

He paused, the silence between you laced with something dangerously close to concern. “Is everything alright?”

You forced a small laugh, trying to shake off how his low, worried voice made heat pool in your gut. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem off.”

There it was. Soft, plain and far too knowing. He said it in that maddeningly sincere way that only he could manage. Like he actually gave a damn. Like this wasn’t unravelling you by the day.

Your shoulders tensed. “Off?”

“Yeah,” he said gently. “Just… I dunno. You’ve been quiet lately.”

He didn’t know. He couldn’t know about the hours you spent spinning in your head like a lunatic, trying to compartmentalise this crush until it shrank into something survivable. About the way you’d stared blankly at Tinder profiles, your phone clutched in your hand, wondering why no one else ever came close, why none of them were him.

Why you couldn’t stop thinking that if you’d just told him—confessed that stupid crush before Natasha did—maybe you wouldn’t be standing here now like some stray mutt, sniffing around for scraps of attention.

Maybe then he’d be yours.

Maybe then you wouldn’t be fantasising about quitting just to put yourself out of your own misery like some lame racehorse.

“I’ve just got a lot on my plate,” you finally mustered, tone strained. “Tony’s soirée. The fittings. Admin crap. Didn’t even have breakfast today.”

His brows furrowed further. “That’s not good.”

“I’ll survive.”

Would you, though?

Would you survive the heat that flared low in your stomach every time he got too close? Would you survive the ache that gnawed behind your ribs every time he glanced over at Natasha like you didn’t exist? Would you survive the constant, desperate craving to be touched by him? To be looked at like she was looked at?

He didn’t speak for a second, and for a moment, you were sure he could smell the reek of desperation on you.

“The oranges in the fridge are gone.”

You blinked. “What?”

“And the tea. The fancy one,” he added. “The one with the dried raspberries in it. You’re the one who always restocks them, aren’t you?”

You looked down, fingers clenching around your folder. “I’ll add it to the list.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, stepping forward a half-inch, enough to make your breath hitch. “I just… I didn’t realise it was you. Doing all of that.”

Of course, he hadn’t because you’d made it invisible. Seamless. That was the kind of care you practised—silent, anticipatory, never asked for, never returned. You had cared for him with a thousand tiny efforts, but he never noticed until you stopped.

You looked up, and the hallway felt suddenly too narrow. His face was open in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time. Gentle, confused, like he was trying to work you out and couldn’t quite bear not knowing.

You dropped your gaze. “I said I’ll do it.”

He paused. You could feel him thinking again.

Then, to your disappointment, he slowly nodded. “Okay.”

But he didn’t move. Not right away. He lingered like someone who hadn’t yet decided if leaving was the right call, like he was caught between concern and curiosity.

“I’ll leave you to it, I guess.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You just nodded and turned, walking away quickly before he could see your face fall, before he could catch the naked want in your expression, the way your heart was clawing against your ribs, screaming for you to turn around and ruin everything.

—

If time travel were an option, you'd gladly launch yourself into a wormhole and strangle your past self for being stupid—no, lovesick—enough to organise this little errand. You deserve it, really. A swift kick to the gut from future-you for being this hopeless.

It had all started a month ago, when you, like a fool, volunteered to collect the tailored suits and dresses for some little soirée Tony Stark had decided to throw. Of course, in true Tony fashion, what was pitched as a ‘casual get-together’ had evolved into a full-blown, black-tie spectacle. The first warning sign? Tony footing the bill for everyone to have custom outfits made to their specifications. Translation…this was going to be a thing.

You’d spent weeks wrangling Avengers into fitting appointments, helping them choose fabrics and cuts, managing last-minute alterations and tracking shipments. It was exhausting but under control…until the catch. The aggravating, absurdly attractive, brooding catch currently sitting across from you in the tailor’s waiting room, his knee bounced like it was transmitting a detailed morse code manifesto on every possible way he planned to ruin your day.

The plan had been simple: grab an Uber, pick up the garments, pressed, stitched, and boxed to perfection and head back to the tower. But then you got the call. The one that told you Bucky Barnes had missed his final fitting, and that his suit needed some last-minute adjustments...

Of course he did.

Of all your perfectly laid plans, it only took one missed appointment to bring it all crashing down. Now here you were, stuck waiting beside the man who occupied far too much of your brain lately, silently praying the tailor would finish quickly so you could escape before your sanity, or your dignity, completely unravelled.

“I really am sorry,” Bucky said for what felt like the fiftieth time.

Between the brooding and the nervous leg tapping, he’d spent the last five minutes watching the side of your face with an expression so guilty it was practically carved into him.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” You replied, though it came out a little too tight, a little too forced, like you were speaking through clenched teeth. Which, maybe you were. Not that it mattered. Not when you could smell his cologne from how damn close he was sitting. God, you wanted to lean over and bury your face in his chest and just inhale—

You straightened abruptly, shoulders stiffening as the tailor entered the room, and mentally reacquainted yourself with the concept of boundaries.

It had been an hour—sixty minutes of waiting while Bucky’s suit got its final adjustments. An hour of you trying to distract yourself with work emails and unanswered texts, pretending the man beside you wasn’t single-handedly causing your emotional stability to nosedive. At least when he’d stepped away to get re-measured, you could breathe without risking spontaneous emotional combustion.

This wasn’t like you. You weren’t usually this wound up. Maybe it was the exhaustion, days of juggling your regular duties with Tony’s ever-growing list of soirée demands. Perhaps it was the heartbreak. Or the missed meals. Or the fact that you genuinely had no idea what day it was anymore.

“Would you like to try it on before we package it up for travel?” the tailor asked, her voice gentle. A measuring tape hung loosely around her neck, her pinned bun fraying slightly at the edges.

Bucky looked at you again, eyes flicking toward yours like he needed permission. You swallowed what was left of your pride and gave him a slight, strained nod.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Go on.”

“I’m sorry—again—this is probably eating into your whole afternoon, I know how busy you are—”

“It’s fine. Really. Just go.”

He offered a sheepish smile before disappearing behind the velvet curtain, tugging it closed with a rustle. You pressed your fingers to your temples, let your head drop into your hands, and exhaled through your nose like it might stop your heart from trying to break out of your chest.

Across the counter, the tailor glanced up at you with a sympathetic look as she readied the boxes for the other garments. “Long day?” she asked gently.

You lifted your head, managing a tight smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Only going to get longer.”

You were still nursing the tail end of your sigh when the velvet curtain swished open again.

And then your brain stopped working.

Bucky stepped out in full formal attire, sharp navy suit, tailored within an inch of its life. The cut of it hugged his frame perfectly. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, long legs. A deep navy waistcoat peeked out beneath the jacket, the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the light just enough to look expensive without being flashy. His tie was already perfectly knotted, like he’d done this a hundred times, and the sleeves of his shirt revealed just enough of the polished metal edge of his vibranium arm to make your mouth dry.

He cleared his throat softly, tugging at one cuff. “How’s it look?”

You blinked. Opened your mouth. Closed it again.

Words? No. Words were gone. Your vocabulary had packed up and left the building.

Bucky shifted his weight, clearly mistaking your slack-jawed silence for disapproval. “It’s weird, right? The waistcoat maybe doesn’t work, I told her I wasn’t sure about it—”

“No,” you said quickly—too quickly. “No, it’s… It’s perfect. You look… great. Seriously.”

His brows lifted slightly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his face. Relief, maybe?

“Yeah?” he said, glancing down at himself, tugging slightly at the jacket hem. “I feel better about it now. The sleeves fit properly this time. Thanks for waiting.”

The tailor beamed from behind the counter, clearly proud of her work. “Wonderful. I’ll box it up immediately once you’re out of it.”

Bucky nodded, but the tailor turned to you with a friendly smile before he could disappear again.

“And for you, would you like to try your gown on as well before I pack it away?”

You blinked, suddenly snapped out of your holy-shit-Bucky-hot-hot-hot haze. “My what?”

She gestured toward the row of garment bags. “Mr. Stark sent over your measurements earlier this month. There’s a gown here for you.”

You frowned. “That must be a mistake. I’m just the assistant. None of those are for me.”

The tailor hesitated. “I don’t think so… He was very clear. Your name was attached to the order.”

Before you could argue, Bucky cut in smoothly, like he’d seen this train coming and stepped in to redirect it.

“Tony probably just wanted you to look the part, too,” he said, voice low and casual. “You’ve done all the work, he probably figured you deserved to enjoy the night a little. Might as well try it on, just in case.”

You glanced at him, but he didn’t look smug or teasing. Just… earnest. Calm. Like he meant it. Which made it all the harder to protest.

“Fine.” You sighed, scrubbing a hand down your face. “Just to check it fits.”

The tailor clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. It’s a beautiful gown, I promise.”

You gave Bucky one last side-eye before following her toward the changing rooms, the fabric bag already in her hands.

From behind, you could hear him chuckle under his breath.

“Just wait 'til you see her,” the tailor murmured to herself, and you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or deeply, deeply nervous.

The gown was heavier than you expected. Luxurious fabric slipped off the hanger like water, pooling in your arms as she handed it over with the kind of reverence usually reserved for wedding dresses.

“I’ll give you a minute,” she smiled, disappearing to finish boxing up the suits.

Left alone in the changing room, you peeled out of your clothes, letting the gown slide on over your hips, your waist, up past your ribs. It clung like it had been sewn directly onto your body, the bodice snug, the neckline just daring enough to make you blush.

You twisted to try to reach the zipper at the back, fingers fumbling and straining, but the angle was impossible. You spent the better part of five minutes twisting in the mirror like a lunatic, trying to reach the zipper that refused to budge. Your arms ached. The corset bodice was half-fastened. You were flushed, annoyed, and far too aware of the sliver of bare spine still exposed.

You were about to peek your head out and ask the tailor for help when a low voice cut in behind the curtain.

“Need a hand?”

You flinched, fabric clutched to your chest. “Jesus, Bucky! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was rougher than usual, like he’d just cleared his throat. “Heard you cursing. Tailor said she’d be a minute out back.”

You hesitated, and your voice came out thin. “Yeah. I—I can’t get it up.”

“Okay,” he replied, oddly determined. “Turn around.”

You cracked the curtain open a pinch. He ducked inside, too broad for the narrow space, his frame practically filling it. He was careful not to look at you directly, at least at first.

You turned slowly, presenting your back. “Just the zipper,” you murmured, barely trusting your own voice.

“Sure,”

A single fingertip, cold metal, dragged up from the base of your spine to the dip between your shoulder blades. It barely touched the skin, but you shuddered from the sensation. Bucky wasn’t even fastening yet, just tracing the line the zipper would follow. The sound you made was too soft to catch.

The zipper came up slowly. Agonisingly. His knuckles brushed your skin every inch of the way, not by accident. No, this was too slow, too precise, to be innocent.

He was savouring it.

His other hand steadied you, palm ghosting just over your hip. His breath fanned warm against your shoulder.

“You’re trembling,” he commented.

You swallowed hard, unable to muster a response.

When he reached the top, his hand didn’t fall away. Instead, he swept your hair off your shoulder completely, fingertips grazing the line of your throat as he let it fall over one side.

He leaned in. Not touching, but close. Mouth just behind your ear. The heat of his breath against your neck.

“Should’ve let me help sooner,” he whispered, voice like a purr. “Would’ve had you dressed in seconds.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your lips parted slightly, breath caught somewhere halfway as your lungs deflated in shock. And maybe it was the gown. Or the silence. Or the way your thighs pressed together of their own accord, but you didn’t move. You didn’t step away.

You leaned in.

Only a fraction. Just enough.

He noticed.

You could feel it in the slight shift of his stance. The faint sound of him exhaling a chuckle through his nose. The way his hand brushed ever-so-slightly along the small of your back before falling away.

And then he was gone.

He stepped back like nothing had happened. Like the tension wasn’t choking the air between you. You turned toward the mirror in a daze.

The dress shimmered in the soft light. Deep, elegant, form-fitting. The neckline exposed the curve of your breasts, the slit at your thigh scandalous enough to make you self-conscious.

You caught his reflection in the mirror. He was watching you, but not with the restrained professionalism you were used to. It was only the sudden reentrance of the tailor that made him hesitate in whatever words were forming on his tongue. He stepped aside, finally giving you space to exit. And you did—legs shaky, palms sweating—like a deer walking straight back into the forest fire, pretending it wasn’t about to burn.

—

Your plan to avoid Bucky after the tailor incident had gone off without a hitch, maybe a little too well. You'd buried yourself in helping Tony pull together the final touches for his ‘soirée’ (which, if you were honest, was less soirée and more ‘black tie circus in a penthouse’).

You'd been so laser-focused on your tasks that you'd almost managed not to think about Bucky in that goddamn changing room. His fingers ghosting up your bare spine like a spark setting fire to dry kindling. You’d folded instantly. Your body betrayed you instantly while your brain screamed to keep it together. Pathetic.

The moral implications of whatever that moment had been were filed away for another day. Were you the other woman? Was Natasha going to slit your throat in your sleep? What was Bucky doing, touching you like that—in a public changing room, no less—when he had a bombshell redhead waiting for him back at the Tower?

No time for that now. Not when Tony’s precious ‘soirée’ was already in full swing upstairs and the caterers had somehow forgotten an entire section of the food. You’d scrambled together an emergency order from some overpriced restaurant Tony swore he was ‘basically family’ with, and by some miracle, they came through in the nick of time.

Now you were in damage control mode, hauling three boxes of overpriced canapés up to the penthouse. Your heels bit into your feet with every step, your dress clung too tightly to bend properly without your tits spilling out, and your patience was hanging on by a single goddamn thread.

You pressed the elevator button with your elbow and exhaled as the doors slid open.

Drop off the food. Grab a free drink. Drown your Bucky-related sorrows. Maybe, just maybe, keep the beast between your legs from waking at the mere sight of him.

The doors began to close. You shifted your weight, careful with the boxes balanced in your arms—

Then someone slipped through at the last second.

Him.

Bucky fucking Barnes.

Tall and devastating as usual in his dark navy suit, his tie loosened just enough to suggest mischief, or maybe carelessness. You weren’t sure which one made you feel worse.

Your breath hitched. Instinctively, your gaze dropped to the floor, feigning sudden, all-consuming interest in the stability of your precarious tower of hors d'oeuvres. But teetering stacks of overpriced finger food or not, Bucky didn’t seem inclined to play along with your avoidance act. Not now. Not when the elevator doors had sealed you in together, finally, and you were without escape.

You winced at the sound of his sharp inhale, the question already pressing past his lips before the elevator even jolted into motion.

“Did I do something to piss you off?”

You didn’t look up. Eyes fixed firmly on the floor, you muttered, “What?”

“I just…” His voice was rough. Tired. “It feels like you’ve been avoiding me.”

Shit.

He stepped forward slightly. Not enough to be invasive. Just enough to make your stomach flip.

“You hardly talk to me anymore,” he continued. “Won’t even look at me unless it’s about work. And even then, it’s like you’re somewhere else. Did I do something to offend you? Hurt you? Just tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

The elevator hummed to life beneath your feet, gliding upward smoothly. You shifted your weight, bracing against the cool metal rail, eyes stubbornly fixed on the buttons, anywhere but his maddeningly perfect face.

“You haven’t done anything,” you said quietly, the words tasting sour the second they left your mouth.

“Then why are you doing it now?” he asked, eyes searching yours. “Why won’t you even look at me?”

“Bucky…”

“Please. Just tell me.”

You hesitated. His hand twitched like he meant to reach for your arm, then faltered, falling back to his side. Your grip tightened on the containers, your fingers slick with sweat. “It’s not you,” you murmured. “It’s me… I just…”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

“Please,” he said again, quieter now. “Tell me the truth.”

And that was what did it. The tremor in his voice. The way his brow creased like he couldn’t stand not knowing. Something broke open inside your chest, raw and unhealed. The dam cracked, split, then gave way completely, and the truth came spilling out before you had the chance to swallow it back down. You were exhausted. Wound tight. Running on fumes and nerves and far too many feelings. You’d tell him, you decided. Then drop off the canapés, quit on the spot, and flee the country if necessary. Stark would write you a killer reference. You’d survive.

“Okay,” you said, breath hitching as a nervous laugh bubbled out, half-bitter, half-resigned. “You want the truth? Fine. You’re going to think I’ve completely lost it.”

He stayed quiet, letting you spiral.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered. “I like you, Bucky. There. I said it. I like you. And it was fine—manageable—until it wasn’t. Until I started imagining things. Thinking maybe… maybe you liked me too.”

His eyebrows lifted, surprised but unreadable.

“I’ve had this massive, embarrassing crush on you since the moment I met you. And I know it’s weird, and probably unprofessional because you’re kinda my boss, but not. Technically, Tony’s my boss, but I basically manage everything around here, and—ugh, I’m rambling.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I like you. And I’ve been avoiding you because it was getting out of hand. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And it felt wrong. Especially since you’re dating Natasha, which just made everything worse—”

“What?” he interrupted, voice sharp. “I’m not dating Natasha.”

Your eyes snapped open. “That’s what you took from all of that?”

“No, I—wait. You think I’m dating Natasha?”

“Yes!” you burst out, cheeks flaming. “I saw you! At the Sunday market about a month ago with the flowers—”

His brow furrowed. “What flowers?”

“The bouquet you gave her.”

“I didn’t give Natasha flowers.”

You let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. “I saw you. It was that dumb little market Tony makes me go to for those overpriced vegan pastries Pepper loves—”

Bucky stared at you, confused. And then, slowly, understanding clicked into place. His face contorted like he’d just remembered he’d left his stove on.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “The flowers. Those weren’t for Natasha. They were for Wanda.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

“Vision,” Bucky groaned. “It was their anniversary. He was stuck on the phone trying to get a fancy reservation and begged me to pick them up. Natasha tagged along because she was hunting for jewellery for Maria’s birthday. That’s all it was.”

You blinked at him. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Bucky replied earnestly. “I didn’t know you thought that. I swear, I’m not with Natasha. I never was.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh god.”

“Hey—”

“No. No-no-no.” You squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to sink straight through the floor. “This is mortifying. I literally thought you were in a secret relationship. I’ve been avoiding you like the plague. I’ve been thinking about moving cities. I googled how hard it is to change your name legally.”

He snorted. “You’re not serious.”

You opened your eyes, and the horror must have been plain on your face because Bucky’s expression melted into something far too amused. “Oh, you are.”

“I might never recover from this,” you mumbled.

“Hey, c’mon. It’s not that bad.”

“I confessed my undying crush and accused you of being in love with someone else in the span of like, sixty seconds.”

His mouth twitched, lips threatening a smile. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re spiralling.”

“I’m going to chuck these hors d'oeuvres at your head.”

As if mocking your attempt at dignity, the elevator gave a slight mechanical whirr, nearly at the top floor. The distant hum of the party pulsed just beyond those sleek doors.

You straightened suddenly, panic creeping into your chest. “Okay, I’m going to deliver these and then I’m leaving. Possibly forever. Please never speak to me again.”

But Bucky, ever faster than you, stepped in.

And before you could react, he pressed the emergency stop button.

The elevator jolted to a halt. The tower of overpriced hors d'oeuvres wobbled dangerously in your arms. “Oh my god,” you gasped, teetering.

Bucky was already moving, steady hands catching the top box before it could topple, plucking the rest from your shaking grasp. He crouched to stack them on the floor carefully, then rose slowly, smirking as you stood frozen, mouth agape in pure horrified disbelief.

“Bucky, what the hell are you doing?”

“No more running,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

You could barely breathe. “You stopped the elevator?”

“Didn’t want to risk the doors opening and you disappearing into the night,” he said, a little too pleased with himself.

“I hate you,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He leaned in, just close enough for you to feel his breath. “No, you don’t.”

You were going to die right here in a metal box. With your dignity in ruins and the man of your dumb, desperate daydreams giving you that look.

And somehow, somehow, you didn’t even want to stop him.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “Don’t shut down. Please.”

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes and immediately wished you hadn’t. They were dark. Hungry. That gaze alone could melt you to the floor.

He stepped closer again. And again. Until his frame caged in you, his arms braced on either side of your head, the heat of his body swallowing you whole.

“I like you too,” he said, low, rough, like it was pulled from deep inside. “Christ, I was so blind. I didn’t see it. It didn’t click until that day at the tailor, until I saw you in this damn dress.”

Your breath hitched.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “I’ve been looking for excuses just to be near you. I keep the notes you leave me with the stupid little drawings. I like looking at them. Thinking about you.”

Your heart felt like it might crack your ribs.

“I smelled every shampoo at the store one day,” he confessed, almost sheepish, almost proud. “Hoped I’d find the one you use. Because you smell so fucking good. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Bucky…”

“I don’t know. You make me feel special. Seen. Like I’m not some monster, like I’m normal. And then one day you were just… gone. I didn’t realise all the little things you did for me that I never noticed.” He groaned, somehow pressing closer. “I missed the sound of your voice… and it made it hurt even more… I lie awake at night, every night, thinking about you and how much I want to kiss you—”

“Bucky.” You interrupted, and he looked back at you with a barely contained hunger. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

And then his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Messy. Desperate.

You gasped into it, and he swallowed it whole, groaning as he pressed harder, deeper, hands sliding down to your thighs as he grabbed one and hitched it up around his waist. You clung to his shoulders, lips parted as he slotted himself between your legs, guiding you up until your ass was perched on the elevator’s handrail bar.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth. “Tell me that you want this, tell me that you want me.”

Your head fell back against the wall, lips swollen, breath shaking. His mouth travelled to your jaw, your throat, hands digging into your hips.

It was dizzying. Chaotic. Perfect.

“I want you, Bucky.” You panted.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered again, but this time it was different, lower. Hungrier.

His hand slid along your thigh, fingertips brushing beneath the hem of your dress. You panted as he kissed across your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. His hands settled on your knees, then slowly, deliberately, he spread them apart.

“Bucky—” your voice was barely more than a whisper, a tremble of anticipation and disbelief.

But he didn’t answer. He dropped to his knees.

Right there. In the goddamn elevator.

You almost came on the spot at the sight, lips swollen and slick with saliva, pupils blown, the slight smudge of your lipstick on his chin. His hands slid up the back of your calves, kneading into the flesh like he was savouring the shape of you. Your dress inched upwards, his mouth suddenly pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

Your breath hitched. Your hands shot to the railing behind you, clutching tight.

“You have no idea,” he said, voice wrecked with want, “how long I’ve thought about this.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, dark with something dangerous. Devotion, desire, something molten and drowning. Then his mouth moved higher.

Another kiss. Inner thigh this time. Then another, and another, slow, lingering, like he was memorising you. He disappeared until the fabric of your skirt, only the back of his head, dark locks messy peaking out from between the slit.

You moaned, soft and involuntary, your hips twitching at the heat of his breath through the thin fabric of your panties. He nuzzled in close, his nose brushing against you, and his hands pressed firmly to your thighs to keep you spread.

“I’ve thought about how you’d taste,” he muttered, lips grazing the soaked lace. “How you’d sound.”

You whimpered.

And then, he peeled your panties to the side.

The groan that tore from him was obscene.

“Jesus,” he hissed, voice muffled. “You’re fucking perfect.”

And then, his mouth was on you.

Hot. Wet. Relentless. You cried out, one hand flying to his hair, tangling in it as his tongue licked into you with precision, with hunger, with something close to worship. He devoured you like he was starving. Slow circles, then quick flicks, his mouth dragging across your clit with maddening rhythm. You writhed against the rail, your leg still wrapped around his shoulder, the other trembling against the elevator wall.

“Oh my god—Bucky—fuck—”

Your words slurred together, breath coming in ragged gasps as he groaned into you, the vibration shooting straight through your core. One of his arms snaked around your thigh, pinning you in place, as if he thought you might try to escape. As if he’d let you.

His tongue slid down, dipping into you, then back up, his mouth latching onto your clit with a filthy, wet sound that made your spine arch. You were unravelling, fast, dizzy, overwhelmed.

He pulled back just enough to pant. “I could stay here all night.”

His mouth was merciless. His grip was unrelenting on your thighs, mouth working you over like a man possessed—

Bzzzzt.

A shrill, sudden buzz sounded from the elevator’s emergency panel, followed by a crackling voice.

“Hello? This is Tower Maintenance. We’re registering an emergency stop on lift three. Is there an issue?”

You froze. Every muscle in your body went rigid, as if someone had cracked open your spine and poured ice water down it. Dread spread like frost through your veins. Your heart thudded painfully in your throat, threatening to climb up and out entirely.

You could barely breathe. Could barely think.

This was it. This was how you died—legs spread, Bucky between them, and Tower Maintenance on the fucking line.

Bucky, in sharp contrast, did not freeze.

He groaned softly with wicked glee, his mouth still very much between your legs. The sound vibrated against the most sinful part of you, and then he doubled down. Mouth and hands working with infuriating, diabolical precision, like he’d just taken the intercom as a challenge.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, the other shaking as you reached blindly for the emergency call button, trying not to sound like you were seconds away from being ruined.

Your voice came out like a panicked squeak. “Hi! Uh—h-hi, yes, sorry! Must’ve been a—a small electrical fault. I’m fine! Everything’s… fine!”

Bucky nipped at your thigh in response.

There was a pause. You could feel the suspicion through the line.

“Ma’am, we’re not showing any electrical inconsistencies in that shaft. Did you press the stop button?”

You shot a wide-eyed glare down at the man currently devouring you.

Another wave of pleasure threatened to knock the air from your lungs. You were barely holding it together, every nerve ending aflame, skin flushed, thighs shaking. The cool metal of the elevator wall against your spine did little to ground you.

You cleared your throat, struggling to piece together something—anything—resembling human speech. “Oh. Oh, that—um, I must’ve bumped it. With my elbow. While holding a tray. It’s, uh—crowded. In here.”

Bucky chose that exact moment to suck hard, and you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the helpless sound that nearly escaped.

A longer pause. You could practically hear them frowning.

“…Right. Well, we’re releasing the stop now. Please remain calm.”

The line disconnected.

The elevator jolted slightly as it roared back to life.

Bucky gave a dark chuckle. “Crowded, huh?” Then—with zero mercy—he sped up.

“Bucky,” you gasped, head falling back against the wall, “I’m—I’m gonna—”

You shattered.

It hit hard, hot and blinding. You cried out, thighs clamping tight around his head as he groaned against you, mouth not stopping for a second, drawing it out, milking every twitch, every whimper. You barely had time to breathe, let alone moan, your hands flying to steady yourself just as the elevator dinged cheerily and the doors slid open.

Right into the penthouse. Packed full of people, who by some miracle, were utterly oblivious to your predicament.

You staggered slightly as Bucky stood smoothly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, one arm slipping around your waist to steady you while the other casually reached down and grabbed the stack of forgotten canapés off the floor like he hadn’t just—

“Evening,” he greeted a passing staff member, utterly unbothered.

You were glowing crimson, pupils blown, lips parted, trying hard to fix your face. Bucky guided you forward, his hand warm on your back, keeping you between him and the crowd as your legs trembled. You barely managed to set the tray on the nearest table before someone whistled.

“Well, damn,” came Sam’s voice from the drinks bar. He gave you both a once-over, a wicked grin spreading. “Buck, next time you’re gonna eat face in the elevator, maybe wipe the lipstick off your chin first.”

Bucky only smirked and licked his bottom lip slow, on purpose, you were sure of it.

You nearly combusted on the spot.

“Bathroom?” he murmured into your ear, low and gravelly.

You nodded quickly and wordlessly.

He guided you with all the smugness of a man who had no regrets, his hand just a little too low on your back to be innocent.

---

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flowersforbucky · 5 months ago

Text

starry eyed

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: reader gets a special gift from her secret santa

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, one minor injury, language, kissing and some sensuality

author's note: short little feel good christmas fic! everyone is alive and happy because i say so. i originally got the idea for this fic last winter, but i hadn't got back into writing at that time. happy that i was able to put it into words finally.

my masterlist

“So, whose name did you draw?”

You shove your hand into an oven mitt, grabbing a large dish out of the oven. Everyone had been assigned to bring a different breakfast food to the Christmas morning potluck.

Sam brought chocolate chip pancakes, Steve brought a shit ton of sausage links, and Sharon brought a giant fruit platter to name a few. You figured that the easiest, cheapest way to help feed a group of a dozen people is a couple tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.

“That kinda takes the secret out of Secret Santa.”

Bucky leans on the island in the middle of the compound’s kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning. His breakfast dish of choice? A sack of two dozen McDonald’s hash browns.

“I was just testing you,” Bucky jokes. “You passed. Do you want to know who got your name?”

“No!” You whack his stomach with the oven mitt and he feigns injury. “I do not. Have I passed all of your tests?”

“I’m proud,” Bucky says after a big gulp of coffee. “You’re stronger than Sam, at least. He’s been asking everyone who drew his name for the last week.”

You roll your eyes. “He does that every year and no one ever tells him.”

Your friends begin filing into the kitchen, everyone grabbing plates and piling them high with all of the food scattered across the island. After making your plate, you retreat to the living room and nestle yourself between Natasha and Sharon on the couch.

Everyone is so occupied with stuffing their faces that there’s hardly any conversation. You halfway pay attention to the Hallmark Christmas rom-com playing on the television as you devour a stack of pancakes and hash browns.

Truthfully, you had hoped to draw Bucky’s name from the hat. You had a gift in mind for him already, and if you’d gotten his name then it would have presented you with the perfect opportunity to give it to him without any pressure for him to give you a gift in return.

You ended up drawing Sharon's name, but you decided to get the present for Bucky, anyway – a vintage tabletop phonograph from the forties that you’d snagged for an incredible deal on eBay. You didn’t put it under the gargantuan Christmas tree with all of the other gifts. It sits in your bedroom, waiting for you to give it to him later today when you’re not surrounded by all of your close friends.

To no one’s surprise, Sam and Peter are the first people to finish eating and immediately begin handing out all of the presents under the tree. You’re still finishing up your breakfast when Peter practically throws a small box wrapped in snowmen print paper towards you.

It's addressed to you, from your Secret Santa. Right off the bat, you’re sure that the gift didn’t come from Natasha – you know how much pride that she puts into gift wrapping. Not that this gift is wrapped poorly, but compared to Natasha’s typically extravagant bows, you’re confident that she wasn't the one who wrapped this present.

You also notice that the handwriting appears to be more on the masculine side. It looks familiar, though you can’t say with confidence who it belongs to.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Sam says loudly enough to quiet all the chatter going on. “No one would spoil my gift for me and I’m getting impatient.”

You and Bucky share a knowing glance and eye roll at his words. He sits in a recliner directly across from you, holding the gift from his own Secret Santa.

“I’ll go first,” you offer excitedly, giving the box in your lap a small shake that gives nothing away.

You carelessly tear at the wrapping paper until it’s in pieces by your feet on the floor.

“What’d you get?” Sam asks.

You don’t respond at first, taking in the packaging of the box.

A northern lights projector.

You feel warmth spread across your cheeks and you can’t help but smile down at the gift in your hands, no longer having any doubt about who this gift came from.

One Month Ago

“These Spaghettios expired a couple weeks ago. Do you think we should risk it?”

You stand in the small kitchen of the Alaskan safe house, rifling through the limited options in the pantry. Some instant oatmeal packets, a few cans of Beanee Weenees, and the aforementioned expired Spaghettios are tonight’s dinner choices.

You can’t say you’re surprised – you’ve been doing this job for a while, and poorly stocked safe houses are pretty much the standard in this line of work. It doesn't help that this is the fifth night that you and Bucky have spent in this particular safe house, and you've eaten through all of the better options at this point.

“If you want to risk getting food poisoning in addition to that sprained ankle, then you go for it. I'll be sticking to the oatmeal.” Bucky reaches around you, grabbing a packet of maple and brown sugar oatmeal from the shelf that you stand in front of.

He's right. The oatmeal is the safest option.

One more night of this, you remind yourself. Tomorrow night, you'd be back in the comfort of your room, where you can DoorDash Chinese food.

You sigh, grabbing the remaining packet of oatmeal.

“You know, I wouldn't even mind the food situation nearly as much if I could just see the lights. Five nights here and nothing,” you grumble.

It’s your first time in Alaska, and you had high hopes for being able to see the northern lights. Each night so far, after long days of recon, you’ve stayed up past the point of exhaustion checking to see if they’re visible.

So far, the weather had been nothing but rainy and dreary, making the sky close to impossible to see at night. The clouds finally let up some today, but you've still seen no hint of an aurora. Just inky blackness, a crescent moon, and a steady downpour of snow that began a few hours ago.

“You could always get one of those projectors,” he teases with a shrug. “Northern lights, galaxies, constellations… all right there on your bedroom ceiling.”

Even though he won’t say it, you know he wants to see the northern lights as badly as you do. He's made it obvious by the way he glances out the window every so often to check.

You’ve been hoping that they’d make an appearance for him as much as for yourself. He's technically seen them before – decades ago. But never as himself. Never as Bucky.

“Those are neat,” you agree glumly. “I've just always wanted to see them in person. Kinda a bucket list thing.”

Getting to witness them with him would be the cherry on top, but you don’t add that part.

Bucky insists that you sit down on the couch and ice your ankle while he prepares the instant oatmeal for the two of you. You’re too tired to protest, so you retreat to the sofa and flip through the limited number of channels on the old TV with your foot propped up.

Fucking black ice. The last day of this mission and everything had gone swimmingly up until you slipped on a patch of clear ice earlier today, twisting your ankle.

You’re just thankful that it happened in front of Bucky, and not Sam. You can only imagine the teasing that would have ensued if it had been Sam that saw you eat shit.

The two of you eat by the warmth of the dwindling fire while watching a Seinfeld re-run.

You’re over three thousand miles from New York, but it doesn’t feel like you’re far from home at all. Bucky and you have been mission partners for quite some time now, and he has a way of making you feel like you’re at home, no matter where you’re actually at. His presence is familiar and comforting – whether you’re at the compound, or in a different country, or in Alaska – the familiarity and comfort of home is there, as long as he is.

“I’m gonna go get some more wood for the fire before bed,” Bucky says when he finishes scarfing down his food. You give him a quick nod, your mouth still crammed full of oatmeal. “You stay here and try not to sprain anything else,” he teases with a glance at your foot that’s elevated on the coffee table in front of you.

You shoot him an obscene gesture once his back is to you. “You act like my leg got cut off,” you grumble as he exits the house.

No more than ten seconds pass before you hear him call your name from beyond the front door. You look over your shoulder with wide eyes and he all but sprints back into the house with an animated expression.

“What? What is it?”

“The lights. They’re visible,” he exclaims. He walks over to the couch, taking your bowl from you and sitting it on the end table next to you before you can process what’s happening. He offers his flesh hand to you in an attempt to help you up.

“Holy shit, really? You better not be messing with me.” You push yourself up off the couch, momentarily forgetting all about your ankle.

“I’m not messing with you,” he snorts. “Come see for yourself.”

Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and you throw yours over his shoulder, helping you walk to the porch without putting too much pressure on your injured foot. You lean into him, his body heat providing a nice reprieve from the night air as you step outside.

You don’t pull away, and neither does he.

Side by side, you stare up at the seemingly endless expanse of swirling rivers of blue and green. The auroral rays seem to dance across the sky, electrifying the night with the shimmering veils of color.

“Wow,” you whisper in awe. Wow doesn’t begin to cover how ethereal the phenomenon is, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

You're acutely aware of the bitter chill of the cold wind. If it weren't for the fact that Bucky feels like a personal space heater, your teeth would be chattering. But with the view before you, you find it hard to care.

“I’d give anything to be able to see this where we live,” you breathe. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you.

“Wouldn't you?” You ask him.

“I really would.”

Present Day

“Oooh,” Natasha coos beside you, snapping you out of your memory. “A northern lights projector. I wonder who that could be from.”

You can tell by her tone of voice that she knows exactly who it’s from – even if you hadn't blatantly told her about seeing the northern lights on your mission with Bucky last month, she's too smart to not be able to figure it out herself.

You playfully elbow her in the side, silencing her teasing but the smirk on her face remains.

“Thank you, Santa,” you say with a glance at Bucky. “I love it.”

The rest of your friends open their presents one by one. You try your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is how perfect you think the gift that Bucky picked out for you is. He could have just given you a gift card, or a generic gag gift, but what he gave you is personal, and sentimental, and thoughtful.

When all of the Christmas morning festivities have come to an end, you retreat back to your bedroom with your presents. Despite getting many great gifts from your friends, the one from your Secret Santa is by far your favorite.

You unbox the projector and set it up on your nightstand before plugging it in. As soon as you press the power button, the ceiling of your room is covered in shades of blue and green that mimic the natural hues of the northern lights that you had witnessed first hand just a month prior.

You flick your light switch off, making it easier to envision yourself standing under the Alaska sky. Of course, there’s nothing like seeing the real thing, but it’s still pretty, and the meaning behind the gift is what makes you happier than anything.

Smiling to yourself beneath the undulating ribbons of turquoise and emerald, you can’t help but replay the memory of standing under the aurora with Bucky.

How he got so excited when he went outside and realized the lights were visible, the contrast of his warm body against the cold night air as he helped you stand on your hurt foot, and the way that he was smiling at you instead of taking in the scene before him –

Your phone chimes from your back pocket, drawing you back to reality.

A projection probably doesn’t really compare to the real thing, huh?

You smile at your phone, sitting down on your bed. You think of how you should respond when you remember the present you bought for Bucky that sits in your closet.

Come and see for yourself, you respond.

With his room being just a short distance down the hallway, it’s only a few moments before you hear a soft knock against your door.

“Come in,” you say softly.

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of nerves, and you tell yourself it’s because you’re antsy about giving him the present you'd picked out for him.

Bucky eases into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes in the display across your ceiling with his hands shoved in his pockets – a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed many times before, though you can’t pinpoint why he’d be nervous right now.

“Pretty cool,” he admits. He takes a seat in front of you on the edge of your bed and finally meets your gaze. “Can’t say it quite compares to the real thing, but at least it’s a whole lot warmer here.”

“The food is considerably better here, too,” you joke. “But really, thank you. It’s definitely the best Secret Santa gift I’ve ever received,” you add, cringing when you remember the toilet shaped coffee mug that Sam had gotten you two years ago.

You use it regularly, of course. But you like Bucky’s gift far more.

“And I got you a present, too,” you add in a small voice before you can chicken out. “I know I wasn’t your Secret Santa, so I hope you don’t think it’s weird. It’s okay if you don’t like—”

“Can I tell you something?” He interrupts you. He’s grinning big – the kind of grin that brings out the lines around his eyes. You snap your mouth shut and answer with a quick nod.

“I wasn’t your Secret Santa originally,” he sighs. “Natasha was. But I convinced her to switch names with me.”

“But why—”

“I got your present as soon as we got back from Alaska, but then I started overthinking it… just thought it would be easier to give it to you if I had the excuse of being your Secret Santa,” he shrugs.

You’re momentarily stunned. It dawns on you – he’d been worried about the exact thing you had. You’d been so worried about him being weirded out by you getting him a gift that you waited until you were alone to give it to him, and he’d been so worried about getting you a gift that he convinced someone else to let him have your name in Secret Santa.

How silly of both of you, you think.

He sits by you on your bed, waiting for your response with a patient, albeit uncertain expression. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.

It had been a fleeting thought when you stared into his eyes under the colorful Alaskan sky – how beautiful it would be to kiss someone under such a serene and mesmerizing sky. How beautiful it would be to kiss him, here. It was a thought that you shoved down, out of fear for crossing a line and making yourself look like an idiot.

It's a thought that is once again at the forefront of your mind, sitting beside him in your bedroom under the imitation aurora.

Under the true northern lights, or under your bedroom ceiling in New York – it doesn’t matter. You think kissing him would be beautiful anywhere.

And so you do.

Or he does – you’re not actually sure who leans forward first. But you are sure that he still tastes faintly of maple syrup and coffee from breakfast, and that when he cups your face in his flesh hand and tilts it to give him a better angle to sweep his tongue along your bottom lip, your brain turns to static white noise.

You let him set the pace – it’s slow and soft, like he’s trying to memorize the map that his tongue draws inside your mouth. You place one of your hands on the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers in the short tufts of hair.

Still holding your face in his hand, he pulls away with a gentle tug of your bottom lip between his teeth and looks at you in the blue-green glow of the projector’s illumination.

“Was that my present?” he smiles, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You laugh, reeling in the afterglow of the kiss.

You drop your hand from his neck, and hold up a singular finger to him, indicating for him to give you a moment. You walk over to your closet, retrieving the large gift bag containing the phonograph.

When you walk back over to your bed, you turn on your bedside table lamp for a bit more light before handing him the bag.

He smiles, blushing faintly as he pulls the tissue paper out of the gift bag. He eases the package out of the bag slowly, as if he’s scared the contents will break. You watch as he takes his time with the unboxing, now feeling a fresh wave of nervousness at the anticipation of him seeing the gift.

His smile only grows once he realizes what it is.

“My ma used to have one just like this,” he murmurs in awe. He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Thank you. It's perfect.”

He turns to place it behind him on your mattress before pulling your face to his once more. It’s shorter than the kiss before, but just as tender and sweet.

“But just so you know, you could have just given me a kiss, and I would’ve been just as thrilled.”

••••••

thanks for reading!! i had fun writing this cute little piece ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #christmas fic #fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem reader

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yoursaltyqueen · 18 days ago

Text

you realize you’re in love with bucky barnes… and everyone else already knew.

It hit you on a random Tuesday afternoon.

Not during a battle, not during one of those late-night talks when Bucky let his walls down — no.

It happened in the kitchen.

You walked in half-asleep, hair a mess, wearing one of Sam’s old hoodies (because it was huge and cozy and he always pretended to be annoyed when you stole it). And there was Bucky, standing by the stove, humming something under his breath while flipping pancakes.

Pancakes.

The Winter Soldier was making pancakes.

His hair was pulled back loosely, little strands falling into his face, and he looked… soft. At peace. Like he belonged in this tiny kitchen with sunlight streaming through the window and your favorite song playing faintly from his phone.

And it just hit you.

Like a truck.

Like every cheesy love song and dumb rom-com moment you’d ever made fun of.

You were in love with him.

Hopelessly, stupidly, heart-achingly in love with Bucky Barnes.

“Uh oh,” came Natasha’s voice from behind you.

You jumped, nearly knocking over a chair. “Jesus, Nat—”

She gave you a slow, knowing smirk, crossing her arms. “Took you long enough.”

Your face burned. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a spy. I notice things.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “The heart eyes? The way you smile every time he enters a room? Classic case.”

You groaned, covering your face. “It’s that obvious?”

Nat just patted your back. “To everyone except Bucky. But hey — Captain Oblivious makes pancakes. That’s something.”

You risked another glance.

Bucky was now trying (and failing) to stack the pancakes neatly. He muttered a curse under his breath when one slid off the plate, and something warm bloomed in your chest.

Sam sauntered in next, sunglasses still on despite being indoors. He took one look at your red face and snorted. “Well, well, well. Look who finally joined the party.”

“Not you too,” you groaned.

Sam clapped a hand on your shoulder, grinning. “Oh, c’mon. Steve and I made a bet about when you’d figure it out.”

Your eyes widened. “Steve—?”

“Yeah,” came the deep voice from the hallway. Steve Rogers appeared with a cup of coffee, looking far too smug for someone so wholesome. “I said it’d take you until summer. Sam said spring.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Pay up, Rogers. It’s spring.”

As Steve dug out a crumpled twenty from his wallet, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Meanwhile, Bucky finally noticed the gathering. He turned around, blinking in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Everyone immediately schooled their faces.

“Nothing,” they all chorused too quickly.

You cleared your throat, trying to act normal even though your heart was pounding like a drum. “Uh—pancakes smell great, Buck.”

His lips quirked into that rare, soft smile — the one that always made your chest tighten. “Made ‘em for you,” he mumbled, eyes flickering away shyly. “Figured you might be hungry.”

And just like that, the world tilted again.

Nat smirked behind her mug. Sam waggled his eyebrows. Steve just sighed like a tired dad watching his kids be idiots.

You were in so much trouble.

And you were so, so in love with him.

By the time you escaped to your room, you were convinced your friends were conspiring against you.

Natasha’s smirks. Sam’s dramatic eyebrow raises. Steve’s disappointed dad sighs.

All because you’d realized — far too late — that you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

You flopped face-first onto your bed with a groan. “I’m doomed.”

“You are,” came Nat’s voice. You lifted your head just enough to see her leaning casually in your doorway, arms crossed and looking far too smug for your liking.

“You need to tell him,” she said simply.

You scoffed. “Tell him? Are you out of your mind? This is Bucky we’re talking about. The guy who shuts down when someone even mentions feelings. I can’t—”

“You can. And you will,” Nat said, pushing off the doorframe. “Because if I have to watch you make heart eyes at him over pancakes again, I might actually puke.”

You threw a pillow at her. She caught it with ease.

“Nat—he doesn’t feel the same. He’s… closed off. And broken and—”

Her expression softened, all teasing gone. “And so are you. But you found each other, didn’t you?” She stepped closer, voice quieter now. “You steady him. He smiles more when you’re around. He’s softer. You’re not imagining it.”

Your heart squeezed. “You really think…?”

Natasha rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know it. And honestly? You both deserve something good. So go get it.”

Your mouth was dry, heart pounding, but before you could overthink it, you found yourself walking out of the room, down the hallway, and right to the balcony where Bucky usually disappeared when things got too loud.

And there he was.

Leaning on the railing, hair loose, metal fingers tapping a rhythm against the iron. The sunset cast gold across his face, making him look even more unfairly beautiful.

“Bucky?” you croaked.

He turned, and the second his blue eyes met yours, your knees nearly gave out.

“Hey, doll,” he said softly. That pet name, the one that always made your heart stutter. “Everything okay?”

No. Yes. Absolutely not.

“I—I need to tell you something,” you blurted out, hands shaking. “And if I don’t do it now, I might chicken out and never say it.”

His brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, Nat’s voice echoing in your head.

Go get it.

“I’m in love with you.”

There. Out in the open. No take-backs.

Bucky’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like he was trying to process it.

“I know you’re closed off and scared,” you rushed on, heart racing. “And I get it, Bucky. But I had to say it. Because I’m tired of pretending like I’m not completely gone for you.”

Silence.

Your heart sank. Maybe you’d misread everything. Maybe—

But then—

Bucky crossed the space between you in two strides, cupping your face in both hands — one warm, one cool — and kissed you like he’d been waiting forever.

It wasn’t soft at first. It was desperate, a little clumsy, like he was pouring every wall he’d ever built into that kiss just so he could finally let it all go. And then it softened, his lips moving slower, gentler, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, Bucky pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I just didn’t think I deserved to say it out loud.”

Your breath hitched. “You—”

He kissed you again, cutting off your words.

Somewhere inside, you knew Natasha was probably watching from the window with the most smug look imaginable. Sam would owe her twenty bucks. Steve would finally stop sighing.

But right now, none of that mattered.

Right now, it was just you and Bucky, tangled up in golden light and stolen kisses, two broken people who finally realized they could be whole together.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #buck x bucky

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natalianovnas · 12 days ago

Text

༄ `. 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒

summary : taking care of your rarely sick girlfriend.

warnings : none just pure fluff.

words count : 0.7k

If anyone told you Natasha Romanoff could get sick, you wouldn’t have believed them. The infamous Black Widow? Caught off guard by a common cold?

Ridiculous.

And yet, here she was—curled on the couch in your oversized hoodie, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, and her nose the color of her namesake hair.

“Don’t say it,” She rasped as you walked in with a tray of tea and medicine.

You placed it on the coffee table carefully, lips twitching slightly. “Say what?”

“That I look like shit.”

You smiled and dropped onto the couch beside her, tucking your legs underneath you. “You don’t look like shit.”

Natasha gave you a suspicious look.

“You look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a pillow and then rolled through a Kleenex graveyard.”

She opened her mouth to argue but ended up sneezing instead—violently.

You handed her a tissue and rubbed her back gently as she blew her nose for what had to be the tenth time that hour.

“I hate this,” She muttered. “I should be in the gym right now, not... leaking.”

You bit back a laugh. “You’re human, babe. Even spies catch colds.”

“I don’t catch colds. They catch me.” Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, which only made her sound more miserable.

You stood and moved behind her, grabbing the blanket from the armrest and wrapping it around her shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, well, this cold must be feeling pretty smug right now.”

She slumped back against you with a huff. “My whole body hurts.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around her from behind, your chin resting on her shoulder. “But lucky for you, I’ve prepared the ultimate healing experience.”

She snorted, “Which includes?”

“Hot tea, two kinds of soup, every rom-com you’ve ever rolled your eyes at, and a 24-hour nurse who’s hopelessly in love with you.”

She leaned into your embrace, her voice quieter now. “That last one sounds like the best part.”

You smiled against her skin. “Thought so.”

🍵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🍵

The rest of the day was spent in the cocoon of warmth and love.

You made her drink water and take medicine even when she groaned about it. You rubbed her back when her coughs got too rough, brushed her hair off her damp forehead, and massaged her temples when the headaches set in.

At one point, she tried to insist she was “totally fine” and attempted to stand up and help you in the kitchen. That lasted two minutes before she almost passed out from dizziness, and you gently pushed her back onto the couch with a pointed look and a, “Don’t make me get the thermometer.”

After that, she didn’t argue.

Instead, she stayed under her blanket fortress, eyes half-lidded as she watched Notting Hill with more emotion than she’d ever admit to.

You brought her soup in a mug, let her eat on the couch, and wiped her chin when she spilled a little—earning you a muttered “You’re lucky I love you” through a mouthful of broth.

Later, when the movie ended and the light outside began to dim, Natasha tugged at your hand sleepily.

“Stay with me?” She murmured.

“Of course.” You slid under the blanket beside her, gently pulling her into your arms. She tucked her face into your neck, her feverish skin hot against your own, but you didn’t care.

Her voice was muffled. “You’re gonna get sick.”

You smiled, stroking her hair slowly. “Worth it.”

“You’re dumb.”

“You’re sick.”

“Still the deadliest woman alive,” She whispered, already drifting.

You pressed your lips to her temple. “Right now, you’re just my girl. And I’m gonna take care of you.”

She didn’t respond, but the soft, sleepy smile on her lips said enough.

๋

💌 actually turned out cute lmao ♥ ๋࣭ ⭑

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #fluff #wlw post #๋࣭ 𔘓 natalianovnas #avengers #sick!nat #black widow #natalia romanova

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redroomreflections · 6 months ago

Text

At The End of The Night

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe

Warnings: Smut Inside - Minors DNI (18+)

Note: I hope y'all enjoy

Summary: Wanda has always been a third in Reader and Nat's relationship. Why not take it to the next level?

W/c: 5k

It felt strange, in a good way, for the house to be this quiet. You were seated on the couch, sandwiched between Wanda and Natasha, as the soft TV light bathed the room in dim, darting light. Cara was away at a sleepover with friends, leaving you and Natasha with the rare opportunity for a quiet night. Of course, inviting Wanda over for a movie night was a given.

People always joked that Wanda was the third in your marriage, and while that was only half true, the three of you shared a bond unlike any other. When Wanda joined the team, you were the first person to make her feel welcome, and she was someone who quickly found her place in your lives. You and Wanda immediately hit it off, bonding over a few common interests and quickly building a friendship that became as easy as family. Wanda was a person you trusted with pretty much everything. She's someone you both cared about deeply.

Now, nestled together under a heavy blanket, Wanda gave an exaggerated sigh as she leaned her head against the pillows. “I’m just saying, if he wanted her back, he could have tried a little harder than just showing up at her work with a bouquet,” she scoffed, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Natasha smirked on your other side. “It’s a rom-com. If it made sense, it wouldn’t be half as entertaining,” she said, sipping her wine. She draped an arm casually over the back of the couch, stroking the back of your neck with the tip of her fingers.

You sighed softly at the sensation, the wine, and the heat of their bodies, making you feel content and comfortable. Wanda shifted, and her thigh pressed against yours. The movie was coming to an end, and you were buzzed. It was a good feeling.

"I need more wine," You announced.

"Oh no, you don't," Natasha gripped your glass out of arms' reach. "You get too frisky when you're drunk."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," You scoffed.

"It is when we have guests," Natasha gestured to Wanda. "You've been rubbing my leg this entire movie."

You hadn't even noticed. "Sorry, Wands," You apologized.

"No, I'm used to it," Wanda waved her hand, dismissing your concerns.

"Used to it?" You frowned.

Wanda nodded. "You're not subtle. You always do the same things when you're drunk, which isn't often. You guys are very touchy-feely." She teased, laughing a little as she looked between you and Natasha. "Not that it's a bad thing."

"Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable," Natasha apologized.

"It's fine," Wanda promised. "It's a nice change, actually. Everyone is so formal, and everyone always wants something from me. You guys are the only ones who make me feel... Normal. It's nice."

"We'll always be here for you," You smiled. "You're sweet."

She smiled back at you.

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself with us. And if you ever feel uncomfortable, just say the word.” You told her.

Wanda smiled, glancing down. “You guys are the best,” she said, looking up with a hint of bashfulness. “I guess I’ve always wondered what that would feel like—to have someone you could just be yourself around all the time.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha before gently nudging Wanda with your shoulder. “It’ll happen for you, too, you know. Some lucky person out there will love you for exactly who you are.”

Wanda chuckled, her cheeks turning a little pink. “You both make it look so easy, though. How do you even start with all of this… relationship stuff?”

"Have you not been in one?" Natasha raised a brow.

"No, not really. There was a guy back home, but he was a jerk. And I was so busy, and then there was Ultron and Sokovia, and..." Wanda trailed off, shaking her head. "It's always seemed like a luxury."

"It's not. It's an incredible experience." You said, smiling to yourself as you glanced at your wife.

"And the sex is a bonus," Natasha grinned.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."

"What?" You frowned, a little confused. "Are you a virgin?"

"No, no," Wanda shook her head. "I've slept with a man before, but..."

"But what?" Natasha frowned.

"I've never slept with a woman," Wanda explained.

"Would you like to?" You tilted your head.

"With whom?" Wanda's eyes widened.

"Well, not necessarily now," You shook your head. You licked your lips and thought it over. "But we could help you practice if you'd like."

"Practice?"

"Sure," Natasha nodded. "There's no reason for you to have a bad first time."

"I'm not asking for a pity-fuck," Wanda rolled her eyes. She sighed. "I should probably get home."

"Or you could stay?" You suggested, looking over to Natasha for backup. "If you want."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "It's a big bed, and you could have the spare room if you'd rather have privacy. But, no pressure."

"Yeah," You agreed. "It doesn't have to be anything weird. I mean, not unless you want it to be."

Wanda stared at you both briefly, her brow creasing a little. "So, what, I'll come to sleep with you guys, and you'll make me feel good?"

"If that's what you want, yes," You nodded. "And if not, we'll still be here for you."

"Why?"

"Because we're your friends and care about you," Natasha shrugged. "We're offering because we'd like to, but if you're not interested, that's fine, too."

Wanda looked at the both of you for a moment, a little taken aback. You felt a little guilty. You hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable.

"What would we do?" She finally asked.

"Whatever you'd like. Whatever makes you feel good," Natasha assured her.

"I'm sorry," Wanda shook her head. She brushed a hand over her face to collect her thoughts. "Maybe I've had too much to drink. Are you guys being serious?"

"Yes," You nodded.

"Okay, hold on. Let me process," Wanda put up her hands.

You and Natasha exchanged another glance, not wanting to make the younger woman feel awkward.

"I'm going to grab more wine," Natasha announced, standing up. "Be right back."

"You can ask questions," You said, reaching over and squeezing her hand.

"I-I'm not sure what to ask," She admitted.

"How do you feel about it?"

"A little embarrassed," Wanda chuckled nervously. "But also a little curious."

"What's embarrassing about it?"

"It's not something that's normally talked about, is it? People don't go around bragging about how much they want to fuck their friends." She explained, dropping her hands to her lap. "You two are generous for the offer, but I don't want to be someone intruding on your marriage."

"It's only intruding if we say no and you push," You reminded her. "Which is the same for you. If you say no, we won't push."

There was a long pause from her. She hadn't said no yet.

Wanda sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm afraid I won't be good. What if I fumble, or what if it's awkward and..."

"Then we'll have a laugh and call it a day. I promise." You reassured her.

Wanda bit her lip, and you watched her eyes dart from the door to you and back to the door. Finally, she turned to look at you again.

"What would you want to do with me?" She asked, her voice a little softer. Instead of telling her, you decided to show her. You scooted closer to her on the couch, raising your hands to her face before leaning in to press your lips against hers. Her lips were soft, and her skin was warm. She melted into the kiss, her shoulders relaxing as she brought a hand up to touch your face. You pulled away for a moment, gauging her reaction. Her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed, but she said nothing.

"Come here," You whispered. This kiss was more sensual. Mainly for her benefit and partly because you'd wanted to taste her for a while. You sucked on her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the young woman.

"I can see why you're a married woman," Wanda whispered.

"I've got some moves," You smirked.

"So do I," Wanda replied, suddenly pulling you back in. Her lips were hungry and insistent, and her tongue flicked against yours, drawing another soft moan from the depths of your throat.

"I leave for two minutes," Natasha sighed. She had three filled wine glasses balancing in her hands. "I take it you're up for the offer."

"I'm still considering," Wanda replied, though her eyes were glued to your lips. "We should discuss this over wine."

Natasha grinned. "Good plan. Here's your glass." She handed Wanda the red wine before sitting next to you. She reached for the remote, flicked the TV off, and plunged the room into semi-darkness. Only the soft glow from the kitchen light illuminated the living room.

Wanda gulped down her glass of wine as you looked at her amusedly. When her glass was empty, she softly set it on the table. "Are you guys in an open marriage?"

"No," Natasha answered. "Not open. We just like you."

"I'm not a homewrecker," Wanda insisted.

"It's not a wreck if we want to share," You said.

Wanda took a deep breath, looking between you and Natasha. She chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated your proposition. You could tell she was nervous but also intrigued.

"If it's too much, we can stop whenever you want," Natasha reminded her.

"Can I kiss you?" Wanda asked her.

"I'd be upset if you didn't."

Wanda's lips crashed against Natasha's. Their lips locked, their tongues meeting as the two women explored each other. The sight was breathtaking, and you could feel the arousal growing within you.

You took a long sip of your wine, watching them. There were key differences in how you kissed and Natasha kissed. Natasha was more hands-on with her kissing, opting to feel whatever part of your body she could get her hands on. You could see them twitch in her lap out of the corner of your eye. Her kisses were confident and sensual. They left no doubt in your mind about what her intentions were.

Wanda's hands rested against your thighs, occasionally gripping them. She was less intense and more curious. Her kisses were tentative, exploring the other woman's mouth slowly and deliberately. She clearly felt for Natasha, and you wondered if the redhead knew. It was a dangerous line to cross, but you were not giving up this opportunity.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how Natasha felt the first time the two of you had sex. Seeing the two of them together was thrilling and a little surreal.

Natasha was the one to break the kiss. She pulled away with a sigh, licking her lips as she looked over at you.

"You've got good taste," She smirked.

"So do you," You winked.

"How far do we want to take this?" Natasha asked, looking over at Wanda. "The ball is in your court."

"I have some ideas," Wanda blushed. "But I'm a little afraid."

"Do you want to be the one getting fucked?" You asked.

"Yes," Wanda nodded.

"Do you want to fuck Natasha, or do you want her to fuck you?"

"I-I... I want you to fuck me," Wanda said.

"That can be arranged," You winked.

"And do you want me to watch, or do you want me to join?" Natasha asked, her fingers dancing along Wanda's arm.

"Whatever you'd like," Wanda said softly.

"We have plans for you yet," You rested a hand on the small of her waist. "I hope this is okay."

"This is great," Wanda said, leaning back as you kissed her neck. "Just different. I'm not used to being treated this way."

"Well, you deserve it," Natasha purred. "And so does my wife. She likes it a little rough. How do you like it?"

"I'm not sure," Wanda admitted. "I've only had sex a couple of times, and it wasn't amazing."

"Oh, honey," Natasha cooed. "We'll take good care of you. That's a promise."

"Okay," Wanda breathed.

"Come here," You grabbed her by the waist, pulling her over onto your lap. You kissed her gently, trying to soothe her. You didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or pressured; the last thing you wanted was for her to feel like an intruder.

Wanda moaned into your mouth as your tongue found hers, the tension in her shoulders gradually melting away. Your fingers crept under the hem of her shirt, gently rubbing the soft skin of her lower back.

"Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Wanda nodded, breaking the kiss and climbing off your lap. Natasha took her hand, leading her to the bedroom as you trailed. The room was dark and cool. She set Wanda up on the edge of the bed.

"I want to see you two kiss," She blushed.

"Oh, does that turn you on?"

"It always has," She nodded.

Natasha smirked. "Then we should oblige." She turned and kissed you, her hands cupping your face. Her lips were soft, and the taste of wine lingered on her tongue.

"Mm," Wanda hummed.

You'd wanted Natasha's hands on your body all night. She sucked on your tongue, drawing a soft moan from the depths of your throat.

"Fuck, that's hot," Wanda whimpered.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Natasha's lips pull up at the corners. You broke the kiss and pulled her close, your bodies pressing against each other.

"Your turn," You said, gesturing towards Wanda. "Go easy on her."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Natasha replied, her green eyes sparkling.

"Are you gonna strip, or are you waiting for me to do it?" Wanda teased.

Natasha laughed, walking over to the young woman and sitting beside her. She placed a hand on her thigh and leaned in, kissing her. This time, there was no hesitation.

Natasha kissed her hungrily, her fingers tracing circles against her bare skin. Wanda moaned softly, her body shivering. She broke the kiss, looking up at Natasha through thick lashes.

"Are you alright?" Natasha asked.

"More than," Wanda nodded.

"Can I touch you?"

"Please."

Natasha's hand trailed up her thigh and slipped underneath her shirt. Her hand found the soft cup of her bra as she used her thumb to tease Wanda's nipple through the material. To Wanda, it was perfect foreplay, but you knew better. Natasha was gauging Wanda's sensitivity. She did not disappoint.

"Mmm," Wanda sighed, her back arching slightly to get more feeling. "Fuck, that feels good."

"Does it?" Natasha smirked, continuing to rub the fabric. Wanda's nipple was hardening and beginning to peek out.

"Yes," Wanda whimpered.

"You want more?"

"Please."

Natasha's fingers slipped beneath her bra, her fingertips brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Wanda moaned, her body jerking a little.

"Fuck, that's so good," Wanda whined.

"You like having your nipples played with, don't you?" Natasha purred.

"Y-yes," Wanda breathed.

Natasha smirked. "Good to know."

She kissed her again, her lips hungry and demanding. Wanda melted into the kiss, her body sinking into the mattress. You used that moment of distraction to begin unbuttoning Wanda's jeans. Your fingers made quick work of the buttons and zipper.

"Lift up for me, baby," You requested.

Wanda raised her hips, letting you slide the denim down her legs. You tossed them to the side, leaving her in her panties and her bra.

Natasha finally broke the kiss, and Wanda gasped for air. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, eyes scanning the younger woman's body. "And you taste so sweet."

Wanda blushed. "Thank you," She said shyly.

"My turn," You grinned, kneeling between her thighs.

"Your wife has good ideas," Wanda hummed.

You spread Wanda's legs for her, noting the wet patch on the front of her underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"You've been wanting this for a while," You mused as you approached her. You used your knuckle to brush against the wet spot finding her clit with ease.

"Shit," Wanda gasped.

You smirked at the reaction.

"I'd ask you what you were thinking, but I think it's fairly obvious." You teased, rubbing slow, firm circles around her clit.

Wanda moaned, her body writhing beneath you. "F-fuck."

"Don't make her come so fast," Natasha warned as she pinched Wanda's nipples between her fingers.

"Sorry, babe," You smirked, pulling your hand away.

Wanda let out a soft whimper at the sudden loss of contact.

"We can't have that," Natasha purred. She moved her hands from Wanda's chest and slid her fingers underneath the waistband of her underwear. "Lift up for me, pretty girl."

Wanda obeyed, raising her hips once again. Natasha hooked her fingers around the fabric and tugged them down. She tossed them over her shoulder, her green eyes raking over Wanda's exposed skin.

"Fuck," Natasha muttered.

"What is it?" Wanda asked.

"You're just so... fucking gorgeous,"

"I didn't shave," Wanda apologized. "I didn't exactly plan for this."

"Doesn't matter," You shook your head. "Natasha, hold her." You raised your chin. Natasha immediately knew what you were asking of her. She moved across the bed and leaned back against the pillows and headboard. She patted the spot between her legs for Wanda to come and sit. Wanda leaned back against Natahsa's front.

You grabbed Wanda's thighs, pulling her down the bed and spreading her legs, her glistening pussy on display for you. You didn't hesitate to lean in and lap up her slit. Her taste exploded on your tongue, the sweet taste of her arousal coating your tastebuds.

"Fuuuuck," Wanda groaned.

"You're doing so good," Natasha murmured, her hands massaging Wanda's tits and belly.

You continued to lick her, her taste and scent surrounding you. You moaned softly, loving the way she writhed beneath you.

"Y-you're really good at that," Wanda panted, her body jerking and trembling. "MMM," She moaned softly.

You could feel her pussy getting wetter and wetter with each flick of your tongue.

"She's very skilled," Natasha chuckled.

"Oh, fuck," Wanda moaned, her head falling back. "Please."

You hummed softly, the vibration adding to her pleasure.

"Oh, please, oh," Wanda whimpered.

"She's really sensitive," Natasha mused. "Do you like that?" She asked.

"Y-yes, it feels amazing," Wanda stammered.

You smirked, swirling your tongue around her clit. Her thighs trembled in response, and you knew she was close.

"You don't know how long we've been wanting you," Natasha murmured into her ear. She nuzzled her neck with her nose.

"R-really?"

"You're gorgeous," Natasha murmured, her voice soft. "Of course."

"So are you," Wanda breathed.

"We could've done this so long ago," Natasha said, kissing her cheek.

Wanda didn't answer, and you weren't sure if she was even listening. Your tongue was buried deep in her pussy, and her legs were quivering. Natasha's hands moved to her thighs, forcing her to keep her legs open as you sucked her clit into your mouth.

"OH, oh, I'm going to..." She trailed off, her orgasm hitting her. Her body tensed, her legs trembling. You didn't stop, your tongue flicking over her sensitive nub.

"Mm," Natasha hummed.

Wanda's entire body tensed, and her back arched off the bed. You kept your tongue on her, tasting her orgasm as it flowed out of her.

"Shit," She panted.

"How was that?" You asked, finally pulling away.

"Good," She replied. "Amazing."

"We're not finished yet," Natasha said. "We're just getting started."

"You've been a really good girl," You smiled.

"Yeah?" Wanda asked, still trying to catch her breath.

"Yes," You nodded. "We've been talking about this for a while."

"You have?"

"Yes," Natasha smiled. "And now, you're all ours."

"Yes," Wanda nodded. She reached for you, pulling you to her and tasting herself on your tongue.

"I think she likes it," Natasha smirked.

"Yeah," You nodded.

"Can I touch you?"

"Sure," You shrugged. "Where do you want to touch me?"

"Everywhere," Wanda admitted. "Will you show me how to pleasure her?" She leaned her head onto Natasha's shoulder to see her eyes. The two of you shared a smirk. Wanda assumed that Natasha usually took a more dominant role in the bedroom. If only she'd seen you a couple nights ago, with Natasha begging you to fuck her as you made her come for the second time.

"Start with her neck," Natasha instructed. "And her ears. Those are two of her most sensitive areas."

Wanda followed her instructions. Her lips pressed against your neck, and her teeth grazed your earlobe.

"Mmm," You hummed, tilting your head to the side.

"That's good," Natasha praised.

"Do you want my shirt off?"

"Yes," Wanda nodded.

You reached down, pulling the shirt over your head. The cold air hit your bare skin, causing your arms and chest goosebumps.

"Now her nipples," Natasha murmured, watching Wanda closely.

Wanda nodded, her fingers finding your nipple and pinching it.

"Ooh," You gasped.

"She's more sensitive there than I am," Natasha explained.

"Not true," You moaned.

"Oh, hush," She smirked.

"Keep doing that," You urged as Wanda wrapped her lips around your nipple. You straddled her lap, effectively pinning her to Natasha as you looked into your wife's eyes.

"Look at her," Natasha smirked. "So pretty."

Wanda looked up at you, her lips still wrapped around your nipple. You cupped her cheek, smiling at her.

"Such a good girl," Natasha praised.

Wanda's eyes fluttered closed at the praise, her body melting into yours.

"She's perfect," Natasha murmured, her voice low.

"Mhmm," You agreed, running a hand through Wanda's hair.

Wanda's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin. She was so curious, so eager, and it made you smile.

"You're so sexy," Wanda said softly when her lips released your nipple with a pop. "Both of you."

"And so are you," Natasha cooed.

"You've got great boobs," Wanda hummed.

"Why thank you," You grinned.

"Do you mind if I kiss her again?"

"Go right ahead," Natasha replied.

Wanda pressed her lips against yours, her hands roaming your back.

"Do you want to touch her more?" Natasha asked.

"I think so," Wanda nodded. "But I don't know where to start."

"Just explore," Natasha replied.

Wanda's hands explored your body, her fingers tracing patterns along your skin.

"That's so good," You breathed.

"She's so responsive," Wanda smiled.

"Yeah, she is," Natasha agreed.

Wanda's fingers trailed down your stomach, her hand slipping into your pants. Her fingers found your pussy, sliding along the wetness.

"Oh, god," You moaned, your hips bucking forward.

"Does that feel good?" Wanda asked.

"Yes," You moaned.

Wanda's fingers moved up and down, sliding easily along your pussy. This was her first time touching another woman. She wanted to see and feel everything.

"Fuck," You breathed, your hips bucking.

"So wet," Wanda purred.

"Yeah, that's what happens when someone has you as a lover," Natasha said, her voice dripping with lust.

"Right there," You sighed as Wanda's fingers clumsily found your clit.

"Here?"

"Y-yeah," You moaned.

Wanda's fingers worked your clit, her pace quickening.

"Mm," Natasha hummed.

"F-fuck," You whimpered, your hips jerking.

"Good girl," Natasha purred.

Wanda continued her ministrations, her fingers rubbing your clit.

"O-oh," You moaned.

"That's it," Natasha encouraged.

Your thighs began to tremble, your orgasm building.

"C-close," You stammered.

"Come for her," Natasha said.

"Fuck, yes," Wanda growled.

"OH," You moaned, your body tensing as your orgasm washed over you. Wanda's fingers continued to work, her pace unrelenting.

"Fuck," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.

"That's a good girl," Natasha said softly.

"Damn," Wanda smiled.

"That was really good," You said, taking a moment to breathe.

"It was," Wanda nodded. She helped you pull the sticky underwear and sweatpants from your body.

"How much can you take?" You asked Wanda.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want Natasha to fuck you? Or do you want me to fuck you?"

"I don't know," Wanda admitted. "You choose."

"Hmm," You chuckled to yourself. You reached over to your nightstand, grabbed one of your favorite straps, and tossed it to Natasha. "She needs you."

"Is that so?" Natasha grinned, holding the strap-on.

"Yes," Wanda nodded, looking up at the redhead.

"How badly do you want it?" Natasha teased.

"I want it," Wanda answered, her voice shaky.

"Are you scared?"

"A little," Wanda admitted.

"We have you," You reassured her. Natasha removed herself from the bed to adjust the strap. It wasn't too big. Six and a half inches. It was perfect. She returned to the bed and kneeled between Wanda's thighs.

"We'll go slow," Natasha promised.

"Okay," Wanda nodded, taking a deep breath.

Natasha's hand slipped between her legs, testing her readiness.

"Fuck," Wanda gasped.

"That's good," Natasha smirked, pulling her hand back. "Ready?"

"Y-yes," Wanda said, nodding.

Natasha lined the dildo up with her pussy and pushed it in, her hands on either side of her hips.

"Oh, God," Wanda moaned, her eyes squeezing shut.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," Wanda whimpered.

"Just breathe, honey," Natasha cooed. From beside them, you offered moral support. You knew this feeling, and it was a good feeling.

"Fuck, it's a lot," Wanda panted.

"Do you need a minute?"

"No, keep going," Wanda urged.

Natasha obliged, pushing further into her.

"Oh, God," Wanda moaned.

"Good girl," Natasha murmured. Your eyes zeroed in on the strap pushing into Wanda's tight hole.

"Fuck," Wanda whined, her hips squirming.

"You're doing great," You praised.

"I know," Wanda groaned, her cheeks turning pink.

Natasha bottomed out, her hips flush against Wanda's.

"There we go," Natasha hummed.

"Oh," Wanda moaned, her body adjusting to the strap. Her clit brushed against Natasha's pelvis.

"That's better," Natasha smiled.

"Feels... different," Wanda admitted.

"Good or bad?"

"Just... different."

"You'll get used to it," You reassured her.

"Is that what it's like for you?" Wanda asked, looking at you.

"Sort of," You nodded. "But I usually have something inside me, too."

"Can I touch you again?" Wanda asked.

"Of course," You replied, spreading your legs.

Wanda reached over, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around it.

"Mmm," You moaned.

"You have a pretty pussy," Wanda cooed.

"Thank you," You blushed.

"Do you mind if I taste it?"

"No, I don't mind," You shook your head. You knew the implications of what she was asking and obliged. In one swift move, you were straddling Wanda's head. She used one hand to wrap around your thigh and the other to dig into Natasha's back as the other woman thrust into her.

"Ooh," Wanda gasped as Natasha's hips met hers.

"Mm, fuck," You whimpered as her tongue lapped at your pussy.

"Tastes good," She muttered.

"You're so good," Natasha purred, her fingers digging into Wanda's hips.

Wanda moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

"O-oh," You gasped.

Wanda's tongue flicked over your clit, her lips wrapping around it. You did the same to her earlier, and it drove her wild. She figured the same would be for you.

"Holy shit," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.

"Fuck, I can't," Natasha whined, her hips snapping.

"You're doing so good," You encouraged.

"Mm-hmm," Wanda mumbled, her tongue licking up your slit. If someone were to walk in right now, they'd either be horrified or incredibly turned on. The sound of the bed creaking against the floor and your mingled moans were the only things that could be heard.

"You're doing amazing, baby," Natasha praised, her hips moving faster and harder.

"You're going to make us both come," You groaned.

Wanda whimpered beneath you. She'd never experienced something as euphoric as this moment. Even if her neck strained and he tongue was tired, she was not giving up. She felt the delicious ache of the strap filling hr, and your arousal coated her tongue.

"Oh, god," You moaned, your thighs trembling.

"Fuck," Natasha growled, her hips thrusting.

Wanda's hands dug into your thighs, her nails leaving small crescent marks.

"I-I'm gonna," You stammered.

"Do it," Wanda murmured, her lips moving against your pussy. You came, reaching out to the headboard to hold you up as you thrust against her tongue. You tried to be mindful of the fact that she could suffocate, but Wanda only locked in more. She pulled you down, sucking gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm. Not too shortly after, she was thrown into her own unexpected orgasm as Natasha thrust harder.

"F-fuck," Natasha grunted.

"Holy shit," Wanda whimpered, her hips bucking.

Natasha's hips jerked, her grip tightening.

"Shit," You swore.

"FUCK!" Wanda moaned, her legs trembling.

Natasha's body tensed, her thighs shaking.

"Oh, God," She groaned.

"Oh my," You breathed.

Wanda let out a shaky moan, her body writhing beneath yours.

"Wow," She whispered.

"You're doing amazing," You panted, climbing off her head.

"That was incredible," Natasha breathed, slowly pulling the strap out of Wanda's pussy.

"Thank you," Wanda smiled, her chest heaving.

"You're such a good girl," Natasha smiled.

"You are," You nodded. "I can't believe that was your first time."

"Really?" Wanda asked.

"Absolutely," Natasha replied.

"Well, I guess it was worth the wait."

"I'm sure," You laughed, crawling into the middle of the bed.

"Do you need anything, babe?" Natasha asked.

"Maybe a glass of water," You smirked.

"Okay," Natasha nodded. She kissed you and then kissed Wanda.

"You're going to stay, right?"

"If you want me to," Wanda smiled.

"We'd love for you to," You grinned.

"Then, yes," She nodded.

"Good," You smiled, kissing her gently.

"We're keeping her," Natasha said as she walked out of the room.

"Definitely," You grinned. "Can you go again?" You asked her as your hands trailed across her body.

"Y-yes," Wanda answered, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Good," You hummed, nuzzling your face in her neck.

"That was... wow," Wanda breathed.

"It was," You nodded, pressing soft kisses against her neck.

"I never thought I'd actually have sex with someone, let alone two people," She said.

"You haven't really dated before?"

"No," Wanda replied, shaking her head.

"We've known each other for a long time," You noted. "This feels natural."

"It does," Wanda agreed.

"It's like you're part of our little family already."

"I think so," She smiled.

"I'm glad you feel that way."

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #theloudhouseau

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thedevilsoftruth · 2 months ago

Text

Rules are meant to be broken.

B. Barnes x f! Reader

" Break the rules of this game. Touch, touch, touch yourself. "

Summary: After a few years of mutual pining, your relationship with Bucky can't seem to get to where you both want it to because of Tonys strict " no dating policy " until a prank is pulled on both of you by one of your fellow avengers at a beach vacation.

Tags: Mentions of alcohol, vulgar language, rom com, sexual references/humor, kind of cliche stuff, sex, smut, Bucky being a smart ass 90% of this fic and fighting everyone, mutual pining, also slightly Russian accent Bucky, Dom! Bucky, vaginal fingering, piv sex, lots and lots of kissing, edgeplay, mentions of the reader having an iud and cognitive symmastia. Not beta read!

Song Recommended: Compress/Repress by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

A/n: This fic was requested by the lovely @0-komori-0 and also turned out to be over 9k words!!! So much more than I had planned. ( I hope you really enjoy this, man I haven't written anything this long in a very long time 😭🙏 ) I've been really insecure about my writing lately, and i actually kind of hate this fic like a lot. But I'm praying to God that this isn't as bad as I think. Anyways, enjoy. 💜

[ My marvel request box is back open. Please see my pinned post for my request rules. ]

Mdni! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet.

Prologue

The fall of the rain had only gotten heavier as time went on. The streets were a flood land and droplets of rain were practically slamming against the cement. The rain perfectly matched the storm of irritation and stress raging inside you. The man who you had been trying to catch for months had slipped through your grasp once more.

As you sat down in the passengers seat of your partners car, you couldn't fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks. They were cold tears, much like the cold rain slipping down the windows all around you.

It was a very vulnerable moment for you. It was around that time of year again that marked the death date of your mother, and work just kept piling onto you.

This was something your partner had been very aware of. Over the years of fighting with you, he had developed quite a strong relationship with you. So, breaking down in front of him didn't feel weird for you. He understood your pain.

His hand slipped into yours, which was laying flat on your thigh. He opened your palm and slid his fingers between yours. You sat there for several minutes, your shoulders shuddering as you sobbed. Your soft, almost quite sobs blended into the pitter-patter of the rain against the window.

" I just.. " you tried to speak, but no words would come out. You squeezed his hand tighter, sitting back up and laying your head against the headrest.

" I know. " His thumb went over your knuckles. He knew you too well, like he was a part of your own mind. " But I'm right here. "

You looked over at him, your eyes watery, your cheeks red. His blue eyes landed on yours, and there was a comforting silence before his vibranium hand reached out to cup your face in his palm. Before you knew it, your eyes were shutting close and your lips were on his.

That night the both of you had learnt a little something about each other; and that was the fact that neither of you were going to let a set of rules restrict the feelings you had for each other.

A few months later. Somewhere at a Kohl's in New York during March.

" I never knew you had Symmastia. " Natasha commented as you stood in front of her from inside the dressing room. She was outside of it, of course, merely just there to be your cheerleader as you tried on bathing suits for your upcoming vacation.

" Yeah, well, not many people notice it at first glance. " You responded, looking at yourself in the full length mirror in front of you. The color of the bathing suit seemed not to match your complexion very well, and you found that it didn't sit on you like you had hoped it would.

" Well as long as you're confident about it, that's all that matters. " Natasha said with her usual supporting smile. You smiled back, looking through the pile of bathing suits you had picked out. Maybe you'd try the blue one on next?

~ prologue end

Vacation with the avengers certainly was an experience. It was only the first day of your vacation, and people were already getting kicked out of their rooms and trying to fight eachother. And fyi; It was Thor getting kicked out of his room by Tony and coming to yours and begging you to let him in.

You said no, of course. After all, you were in a room with literally only women; your best friend Natasha, Gamora, Nebula, and even Pepper...

Because she was also kicked out of her room with Tony.

It was a beach vacation, and most of the boys were already done getting ready. You were looking through your bag, still having not found the right bathing suit to wear even though you brought eight pairs.

Gamora was next to you on the bed, brushing her hair. Pepper was helping Natasha with her top, and Nebula went out to the pool with Scott. ( He was definitely going to get his balls kicked. )

" Hey, what do you guys think of this top? " You asked, holding up the neon blue triangle top you found in your bag. If only you could find the bottoms. The girls looked at the top and hummed in unison. Natasha tilted her head, thinking, though her thoughts would quickly be disrupted when a loud stomping sound was heard from down the hallway. There was a chorus of very loud yells that followed the quick stomping. Were they playing tag in the hallway?

" Peter, give me my arm back!! "

" Oh yeah? Give me my Redbone cassette back!!! "

It sounded like... Bucky and Quill?

You all exchanged very confused looks at eachother until the silence was broken up with Gamora's snicker.

Natasha ran to the door, stood on her toes and looked through the peephole.

" Oh my god, " she exclaimed. " Bucky's naked. "

You all immediately looked up from what you were doing. Gasps were heard, followed by the girls rushing to the door to try and see.

" Well, h-he's holding a towel to his waist. " Pepper added, taking over the peephole custody.

The boys continued fighting through the hall.

" Come on Pete, give the disabled man back his arm. " Rhodey's voice was heard. Pepper noticed him coming out of the room along with Tony, who was holding his phone up in the air, presumably recording the moment.

" IM NOT DISABLED! "

There was silence for a moment. The men all looked at Bucky, unspeaking.

" Wait. Am I disabled? "

Natasha and pepper laughed out loud. You were getting a small tinge of second hand embarrassment in the pit of your stomach.

" Your guy's boyfriend's are fighting eachother. One of them is a little stupid, it looks like. " Natasha laughs, walking back towards the bed you were standing at with Gamora. You blushed at the comment.

" He's not my boyfriend. And don't talk about him like that, Bucky is very smart. " You spoke, tying your hair in a ponytail with a scrunchie. Gamora sat back down on the bed, rummaging through her makeup bag. Natasha plopped down onto the bed beside her.

" Well, it depends on who she was talking about. They're men, they're both stupid. Especially Peter. " Gamora rolled her eyes at the thought, pulling out a beautiful red lipstick from her bag and a hand mirror. Natasha shifted herself on her side and touched your knee gently, grabbing your attention.

" You are aware that Bucky almost had an identity crisis just now realizing that he is disabled? " She asked. " It's been like 80 years that he's been without an arm, and he's seriously only now realizing that that makes him disabled. "

You laughed, biting your lip as you looked through your bag for your sunscreen and perfume.

" Don't be mean to him. " You said, your earrings jangling as you sprayed your perfume on. Natasha noticed the stupid grin on your face.

" Why? You in love with him? " She teased, shimmying her shoulders and grinning. The girls let out little " oos " In unison. You face palmed.

" No! It's not anything like that. " You protested, slamming your perfume back in your bag. Gamora rolled her guys and Pepper scoffed.

" Oh please. " She looked at you through her brows with her head tilted down. " We've seen the way you two look at eachother. "

She wasn't wrong. There was a thick sense of sexual tension between the both of you. Especially when you sparred or if you were training with the avengers: he'd always ask you to be on his team when you played games. If one of the girls weren't available, you'd ask him to be on yours. That was about the only time you two hung out. Except for little trips like this or when you went out to dinner.

You picked up your bathing suit and put on your sunglasses. Gamora was working on putting her makeup back up.

" You guys are a bunch of a-holes. " You joked, walking into the bathroom to go change. Natasha hummed, opening her phone to text someone.

" Don't come crying to me when you're sad about being single! "She shouted as you walked into the bathroom. You flipped her off before slamming the door shut.

The room was very quiet without you in there. The girls were all waiting for you to finish, and by that point, were all on their phones. Gamora opened up her messenger app after receiving a text from Peter.

P: Look what I got!

Image loading

Gamora snorted; it was a picture of Peter running down the hallway, smiling while he heald up Bucky's arm as Bucky chased after him in the background. Poor guy must have been fearing for his life holding onto that towel.

Pepper looked up from her own phone, her brows furrowing.

" Hey, do you guys think Bucky got his arm back? " She asked. Gamora shook her head, smiling.

" Nope. "

Oh, that was *so* being sent to the avengers group chat.

It was a very hot day, and you were genuinely pissed that your trip was pushed from March all the way back to June. Doing this during spring would have been so much better. But honestly? It was still a really nice beach. A perfect day for a suntan, too.

While you sat down on an outdoor chaise lounge under a pink umbrella. The girls were off somewhere getting food and drinks. You were scrolling through your phone and opened your camera app, contemplating wether or not you'd take pictures to post on your Instagram or to just keep to yourself.

After Natasha had hyped you up to go out in a two piece after going bathing suit shopping with her, you were feeling pretty confident in yourself. Even with your symmastia in mind, you were still feeling good and you didn't think that anything could take that away from you. Plus your bathing suit was fucking hot! Who wouldn't love you in it?

Somewhere off on the beach, and not far away from you, stood a very embarrassed Bucky Barnes with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Sam was still picking on him for the incident in the hallway, while Steve was simply enjoying himself and trying to figure out how to take a picture of the ocean with his phone.

" I'm just saying, it was a pretty stupid ass decision to take off your arm and leave it there. " Sam laughed, looking at his good friend through his sunglasses and shaking his head. Bucky threw his arms in the air.

" Come on! I had to check for malfunctions and clean it. " He protested. " And as i went back into the bathroom to look in my bag, he came in and took it! " He kicked his foot in the sand while looking down on it somberly. God he wished he brought an umbrella with him.

" Tck. I can already see the headline: Naked 107 year old man frantically runs down hallway of hotel after enraged missoulian steals his prosthetic arm " Sam laughed, crossing his arms and looking off into the beach. Bucky shook his head in defeat. They were never going to let go of that moment in the hallway. Ever.

Steve was still trying to take a picture of the ocean, but he kept accidentally turning his flash on and shaking his hand. Meanwhile, Sam was checking out the group chat that was exploding with texts.

" Hey, do you guys know how to-- " before Steve could finish, Sam cut him off.

" Oh my god. " He gasped, scrolling up to find Peters picture from the hallway sent by Gamora. Bucky had already seen the picture; he was actually quite upset about it. He remembered when Quill took the picture, too. He almost tackled the man to the floor.

Sam heald his phone out for Steve.

" Did you see this yet? "He asked, wheezing with laughter. Steve squinted his eyes, trying to get a good look at the picture Sam was trying to show him.

" What is it? I can't see. " He asked, moving his sunglasses up on his head. He gently took the phone from Sam's hand.

" Is that a chicken? " He asked, his head jerking back in confusion. He could barley see the image with the sunlight beaming down on them. Sam cackled even more. Bucky was clenching his fists, wanting nothing more than to punch the daylights out of Sam.

" No!! " Sam laughed. " Peter took a picture of Bucky chasing him in the hallway. " Sam was practically on the floor, almost crying from laughing so hard.

And then he actually fell in the sand.

" Oh. " Steve was starting to see it now. The picture was a lot less interesting than the picture he originally had in mind. Honestly, a chicken would have been a much better thing for Sam to show him. ...Or maybe a dog? Steve was really liking the dog pictures Kate posted on her Instagram as of late. He personally enjoyed Facebook more, but Instagram was his way of staying in touch with the younger avengers.

Steve handed him back his phone. Sam was still on the sand, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Bucky was spaced out, staring at you from afar.

He noticed you notice him, and you smiled at him and waved. He just barley raised his hand and waved back. He had his face scrunched up and his teeth clenched as he squinted his eyes to look at you. It probably wasn't the most flattering thing ever. He looked at his friends for a moment, and when he looked back at you, you were occupied by Natasha bringing you a drink.

Sam stood up and placed his phone in his pocket. Steve was helping with getting the sand off of him, talking something about Kate's dog while doing so. Bucky was still staring at you, and Sam caught onto it quicker than he would have imagined.

" You gonna go talk to her? " Sam asked, adjusts the sunglasses on his face. He hummed, shrugging.

" Maybe I will just to get away from you assholes. " Was the last thing Bucky said to them before walking off. Steve stood up, giving one last brush of his hand to Sam's knee. He sighed and looked at Bucky as he walked away. Sam was stunned, but he want surprised. At all. This was kind behavior coming from Bucky.

" What's his problem? " He asked, putting his hands on his hips. Sam crossed his arms and looked in the same direction as Steve.

" I don't know, hormones? "

" Make sure you ask for an extra shot of pineapple juice! "

You were bent over the blue lounge chair you were sat in, calling out to Natasha who was walking with Gamora to fix the order of your drink that came back wrong. Bucky didn't mean to stare as he was approaching you, but he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering.

As you sat back down and adjusted your position on the chair, you noticed him making his way toward you. You waved at him, grinning.

" Hey, handicap. Got your arm back, i see? " You joked, putting your hand over your eyes to shield your eyes from the sun as you tried to get a good look at him. As he got closer, he began to block the sun and you put your hand down.

" Nobody's going to let go of that, huh? " Bucky sighed, a smile creeping upon his face as he stood next to you. You laughed.

" Nope. Digital footprint must suck for you. " You wheezed, clapping your hands together. Sam made the same joke to him earlier.

" Yeah, that's real funny. " Bucky told you, shaking his head as he sat down in the lounge next to you. He sat off the edge with his feet on the ground, facing you.

Oh god! What was he even supposed to bring up with you? Better than that, why was he talking to you? he couldn't even believe he was socializing this much with people. Especially after what had happened in the hallway.

" Hey, don't worry about it. " You reassured him, putting your hand on his knee. He couldn't help but notice your freshly manicured fingers. They weren't too long, but not too short. They were an almond shape and were painted a beautiful deep blue with gold accents. It kind of reminded him of his vibranium arm.

" We can be real assholes, and If you don't want me to make jokes about it, I won't. " You told him, smiling before slowly taking your hand off him. You looked back off into the distance. Bucky gulped hard. You were always so nice to him, always wanting him to feel comfortable and safe. You were also always making sure he didn't feel forced to do anything he didn't want to. It made him feel nice.

" Thank you. " He responded with the best smile he could muster, looking down at his hands. You nodded and folded your hands on your stomach, your eyes wandering into a pack of seagulls flying above your head.

There was silence for a moment, but it wasn't an awkward silence. You were off looking into the distance, and Bucky was still staring at you. His eyes raked up your body, quite frankly admiring you. He had a major staring issues, and he found that it only got worse when he was around you, which reminded him; pursuing a relationship with you wouldn't be the easiest thing ever. You were teammates, and Tony Stark had very strick rules of no dating for teammates.

But that didn't stop him from kissing you in his car that one rather depressing night you shared together. And it certainly didn't stop his eyes from wandering up your body, which were now sitting comfortably onto your breasts.

And, maybe he had been looking for too long, but the longer he looked at you, the more he noticed that there was no separation between your breasts. It was interesting, and he was about to bring it up before the image of your chest was replaced with the image of your eyes on his.

" It's a nice view, isn't it? " You joked, moving down your sunglasses so he could actually see your eyes. He smiled, even though he knew he shouldn't have in that situation. He loved your sense of humor.

" It is. " He responded, taking his glasses off and tucking them into the pocket of his shirt. " Better than the ocean, surely. " The smile he had on his face was charming. It was seductive and handsome; a facial expression you rarely saw on him. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit.

What a bastard.

You pushed your sunglasses back up to the bridge of your nose, smirking. You noticed him still starring, this time with his brow quirked, like he was confused.

" You know, I don't wanna be rude or anything--" you cut him off, immediately aware of what he was going to ask you. But that was okay because you were used to the question and had been answering it for years.

" It's apart of this condition I have called Symmastia. " You begun, crossing your legs on the lounge. " Its cognitive for me. Basically what it is is breast tissue that kind of merged together down the middle of my chest when I was born. "

As you explained it to him, he listened intently, nodding his head along understandingly. He didn't know what it was about discovering this little thing about you that made you 10x more attractive to him, but it just did and he was there for it all the way. But before things could get any hotter, Nat and Gamora came walking back to your little spot with your drink.

" Hey!! " Nat called out for you. She handed you her drink and looked at Bucky, who's smile was now gone and replaced with his usual look of tedium.

" And hey, you. " She twinkled her fingers at him. He pursed his lips and looked the other way. His eyes fell on Gamora instead. She was frowning at him.

" You're in my spot. " She said, crossing her arms. Bucky gave her a fake, sarcastic smile.

" Oh, am I? " He spoke with mock-surprise. " Well I sure as hell don't see you using it. " He imitated her, crossing his arms over his chest. Before things could get worse, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him off the seat. Gamora looked like she was just about to beat the shit out of him.

" That's fine, he can just sit over here with me. " You laughed nervously, waving your hand in the air. Gamora spitefully sat back down in the lounge, her eyes never leaving Bucky. Nat had absolutely no idea what to do with the amount of shock she was in.

" You keep talking like that and I'll rip off your other arm. " Gamora spat, her eyebrow twitching as she brought her drink yo to take a sip of it. You saw the cocky smirk on Bucky's face. Whatever he was going to say next, it wasn't good.

" I'd like to see you try. " He spoke slowly and lowly, leaning into her end tilting his head to the side, intimidatingly. Gamora almost threw her drink at him. If it hadn't coast her $24, it would have definitely been poured straight into his crotch with a bonus kick to the balls for good measure.

" Are you challenging me, Mr. Barnes? "

That was the point that got Natasha to finally chime in. She stood between the two arguing fools, holding her hands out.

" No! No he's not! Nobody's challenging anyone to anything, you hear me? " She spoke firmly, her head snapping back and forth between the both of them. Your hold on Bucky's shirt persisted Incase you needed to hold him back Incase he actually did do something. But you had faith in him. He wasn't that stupid to ruin his reputation two times in the same afternoon.

" You know what? Me and Gamora can just go somewhere else, and you two can go back to--starring into eachothers eyes seductively or whatever it was you were doing. " She explained, grabbing Gamora's arm and bringing her to her feet. Gamora and Bucky were still angrily starring at eachother.

" Okay, bye-- " you tried to say to Nat as she walked off with Gamora before the old dog next to you started barking again.

" And whatever we were doing is none of your damn busin--"

Your hand immediately flung over his mouth. It was probably the best reaction time you'd had in a while. Natasha shook her head disappointingly, and left with one final comment, " control your freaking dog. "

You were trying. But it was very hard with how spontaneous, sassy, rude, and intrusive Bucky could get. Of course he never meant it and it was always just there as a way of playing around, but there were times where he overstepped, and in that moment, he definitely overstepped.

You turned to him. He felt your eyes on him, and his shoulders tensed and he lowered his head like a little kid who had just been caught sneaking into their moms candy jar in the middle of the night.

" What the hell was that?! " You yelled, bonking him on his head gently. He glanced at you then back at the sand.

" I'm sorry. " He muttered. " Got a bit irritated that our moment was short lived, I guess. "

He was nervously moving his feet around in the sand. It was kind of cute coming from him. Well--his honesty, that was. Your shoulders slumped.

" I can get behind that. " You smiled, putting your hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. You'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking the same thing.

Then, suddenly, Bucky got a very bad idea.

He looked around the surrounding area. Sam and Steve were the closest to them, but they were several meters away and had their backs turned to the both of you. You quirked a brow, curious at what he was going to do.

Once he mentally declared that the area was clear, he turned back to you and leaned in to kiss you. You were a bit caught off guard, but this wasn't the first time that this had happened between you two, so you gave in.

As much as you wanted a full make out session with him right there in the sand, you knew that just a couple seconds of bliss was your safest option if you didn't want to get fired. He pulled back a bit, and you hesitated for a hot minute before pulling him by his collar back into the kiss.

Meanwhile,

" No! I told you that the American flag has to go on the top of the castle. " Steve argued, sticking the tiny little American flag cake topper a fan had given him earlier that morning back at the top of the sand castle he had built with Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, had his attention fully on the two people making out from afar, one of them being one of his closest friends. Steve was still carrying on his one-sided argument while he tried to maneuver the castle the way he wanted. Until he realized his friend wasn't listening to him.

" Are you even paying attention to me? " Steves voice was laced with desperation as he dramatically threw his arms in the air. Sam was still spaced out, staring at his teammates as they kissed harder.

" Shut up, you big baby. Look. " Sam said, flicking the back of his hand at Steve's chest, his eyes never leaving the very exotic scene in front of him. Steve looked off into the direction Sam was looking, and he immediately caught on.

" Oh shit. " Was all he said. He couldn't believe it. His best friend was finally finding love again after almost 80 years.

" Is that? " He weakly pointed at the couple. He was so dumbfounded that he was considering if Bucky was even Bucky in that moment. A huge smile crept upon Sam's face.

" Oh yeah. Our little solider's finally getting some after 80 years. " He cackled. " He's growing up so fast!! "

You had your hand on Bucky's chest as he leaned forward into you, almost pinning you down into the seat. It was somehow steamier than the moment in the car, most likely because you were surrounded by your coworkers and there was a possibility of your boss walking in. Your legs were so close to opening around his waist.

*Odin's beard! what in the nine realms where you doing?*

He gave you a few more pecks before he let go of you, pulling back to give you time to recover. Whatever happened to the thoughts of, " I'm not gonna make out with him? "

You were panting, your lips wet and puffy. He was smirking like an absolute buffoon, the biggest one in the world by your standards.

" Bucky... " You started. His grin only grew, if that was even possible at that point.

" Yes? "

" We are so getting in trouble. " You scoffed, sitting back upright in your seat. He chuckled and ran his hand down your thigh.

" I won't tell if you won't. " He drawled out, a tinge of the Russian accent he was trying so hard to lose shining through his words. It was a bit sexy, but you could barely relish it before you noticed Sam and Steve waving at you from their little sand castle. Bucky noticed the way you were looking over his shoulder to look at his friends, and immediately followed your gaze.

Those little pests...

Once he turned to look at them, they started jumping in the air and waving their arms around like crazy people.

" Yeeaaaah Buuucky!!! " Sam cheered him on. Bucky felt a vein in his forehead popping out.

You heald up your hand a bit and waved back slowly. You waved with a smile, and Bucky flipped them off with a frown.

" Oh, fuck off! "

Later that night, some of the Avengers including you decided to go to a little club across the street of the hotel. Most of the Avengers were still at the club, but Gamora, Natasha and Bucky were already back at the hotel by the time you came back. The girls had said they didn't want to get absolutely wrecked because they wanted to see the aquarium in the morning, but Bucky just didn't enjoy the crowd that much. You were only a little bit tipsy, but that was because you didn't enjoy alcohol that much.

Tony and Pepper were behind you as you walked down the hallway. You were going to separate from them by the the you turned the next corner because their room was kind of far from yours.

It was kind of funny too; Tony got so shitfaced that he agreed to letting Pepper back into his room with her.

You finally reached the corner, and you were trying to find your key card in your purse as the couple walked by you. They were arguing about something again, like always. Pepper was just trying to get out of the rather possessive hold Tony had on her so she could properly say goodnight to you.

" Goodnight, hon! " She calls out to you, forcing a smile before Tony directs her attention back onto him. You looked up from your purse to glance at her for a moment, rummaging through your trash filled purse until you found your key card. And a... Condom?

Hm. That was weird. And ridiculously hilarious considering you had a IUD. It had a silver packaging with a red star in the front. You flipped it to the back, and it had a very tiny red inked text that read the words, " I hope you're ready for this winter soldier. "

You belly chuckled at the little joke. You wanted to place your bet that it was probably Sam who had put it in there. The bigger question was who had them made and how long had they been conspiring to do pull this on you?

You couldn't help yourself from laughing as you walked up to your room. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, setting down your purse by the door and slipping out of your shoes. Gamora and Natasha were chatting while laying on their beds, watching something on the TV.

" Hey, guys. " You called out to them. They looked your way and waved. The tv was set to a reality show channel, and the two of them were sitting there, talking crap about the awful couple on the screen. You made your way towards your bed and pulled out your suitcase, looking for a change of clothes. You rummaged through the bag for a hot minute before settling on a red tank top and black shorts.

" I'm gonna go change. " You told them, turning your heel and walking into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

When you walked out of the bathroom after changing, you were met with a little surprise; Bucky Barnes. Standing right outside the bathroom door, near the front entrance. When he saw you, he glanced at you and mouthed the words, " help me. " You looked at the girls, at him, at the girls, and then back to him.

" Guys there's a super solider inside our room. " You commented, pointing at him.

" She let him in. " Gamora told you, motioning her head towards Natasha.

" He wants to talk to you! " Natasha shouted enthusiastically. Bucky was pinching the bridge of his nose as he heald his head down, sighing heavily.

Of course he wanted to talk to you, why else would he be there? To sell them girl scouts cookies?

You looked up at him and he turned to face you fully.

" What are you doing here? " You whispered. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. After your little moment on the beach, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You couldn't stop thinking of him either. Really, you were relived to see his face again.

" Open your hand. " He told you. His vibranium hand was clenched in a fist like he had something in it. You furrowed your brows, skeptical.

" Why? " He cut you off.

" Just do it. "

You took a deep breath before you heald your hand out in front of him. A smirk crept across his face, a smirk you didn't like at all, and he put his hand in yours. A little crunching sound of plastic was heard as he opened his palm, and your skin came in contact a small wrapper of some sorts. He took his hand off yours, and immediately you recognized what was in your hand.

It was the same condom you found in your bag earlier. He put his hand on your hip and leaned into your ear real close.

" You read what it said. " He whispered to you, his voice low and seductive. His fingers traced your hip bone lightly. " I hope you're ready for this winter solider. "

Bucky's arms slid away from you and he slowly stepped back. You were staring at him with your mouth open, shocked. You were completely speechless, and found it hard to move from your spot. He virtually had you up against the bathroom door, cornering you. He had this stupid grin on his face. Obviously he was doing this all in an attempt to get you annoyed and flustered.

" You are really bad at dirty talk. " You cringed, keeping your voice at a whisper level. Bucky shrugged, stepping closer to you. He was standing so close that you could smell his cologne. It was a very bold, earthy, and masculine kind of aroma. It was hard to ignore.

You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the others weren't paying attention to you two.

" I was just reading what the wrapper said. " He chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his arm sliding past your body and grabbing the door handle. He stared into your eyes for a moment before he turned the handle, making you stumble back as the door to the bathroom opened suddenly. You nearly tripped on your own feet, shuffling backward and further into the room. Bucky stepped forward and shut and locked the door behind him.

" You pulling my leg or something, suntan? " He asked you, speaking a little louder now and with his arms folded over his chest. You shook your head, your left foot dragging behind your right, gaining more distance between you and him.

" I think someone is pulling on the both of our legs. " You said, stilling in the middle of the big, spacious bathroom. Bucky's eyes never left yours. He was searching you, analyzing every move you made and every emotion etched in your face.

" I got the same thing stuffed into my purse. " You told him, toying with the hem of your shorts. " I think it's just one of the Avengers trying to get us closer by pulling a dumb prank on us. "

Bucky let his arms fall back down to his sides, sighing as he approached you. You were hesitant, considering moving away again until he was standing in front of you. He was deeply intimating even when he wasn't trying.

" Are we not already close? " He questioned, leaning into you a bit. You didn't need to even think about your answer to that question.

" We are. " You responded, realizing how badly you worded that last sentence. " I think we're both just looking for something a little more In our relationship. ''

Those last words sparked something inside Bucky. After all the constant games of cat and mouse, the persistent cravings the two of you had for eachother, and the hanging off the edge of your seats since the moment you shared in his car on that one rainy day--could this be the moment where you got everything figured out?

" Those damn assholes. " He muttered, reaching his arms out for you and pulling you against him. His flesh hand went to your cheek, and he bent down and stole your lips in a rather passionate kiss. It was slow and sensual, his lips pecking against yours repeatedly.

" They should really mind their own businesses anyway. " He spoke against your mouth in annoyance, his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers curling into your hair, tugging on it gently as he kissed you sweetly. It reminded you of the moment in his car. How sweet and light it was. How passionate it was.

Bucky's lips moved from your lips, to your cheek, to all the way down to your neck. You grabbed the front of his shirt, trying your hardest not to moan like a freak in the middle of your hotel rooms bathroom.

He griped your hips, and spun you around, pulling you as close as he could get you to his body. His metal hand dropped down to your inner thighs, caressing you lightly as he bent down to kiss your neck hungrily. He cupped your sex through your shorts, almost making you yelp before you covered your mouth. If he continued to go on, youd probably get louder.

" Bucky, " you gasped. " we need to take this somewhere else. "

Whatever it was that you were expecting, it wasn't to be thrown over Bucky's shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom. You were screaming, all right. Screaming and slamming your fists against his back.

" Put me down!! " You told him as he stood at the front door, unlocking it. Gamora and Natasha looked your way, watching as the man carried you out of the room.

" Help me! " Was the last thing you told them before you left for the rest of the night.

He continued to hold you up on his shoulders, even as he was unlocking the door. He did not listen to a single protest you made, and even went as far as to tell you to shut up as he walked to his room. Once you were inside, he set his key down on the kitchen table before he kicked open the bedroom door. He slammed the door behind him.

" Taking me to your chambers now, really? That's lovely, that's-- "

His hand came down on your ass as a harsh smack, and you yelped in surprise as he did so. Your skin tingled with a slight sting from the impact when he removed his hand from your skin. He threw you down on one of the two beds in the room, your body lightly bouncing off the mattress as you plopped down in it.

You barley had any time to think about what was happening; everything was happening so quickly and you couldn't piece together in your mind what in the world was going on.

" You said you wanted to take our little moment somewhere else? " He inquired, unbuttoning his black button down with quick fingers. You gulped hard, propping yourself up on your hands, your thighs clenching.

" Yes, but I was not expecting this. " You laughed. Bucky rose a brow.

" You're not complaining though, are you? " He asked, peeling the shirt off his body. He had a pair of dog tags around his neck, presumably his from his time serving in the war. Suddenly you found yourself at a loss of words as his muscular torso became visible to you. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes raking up and down his seemingly perfect body. He was certainly a lot bigger and heavier compared to when you had first met him. His body glowed in the moonlight, highlighting his abs and his strong arms. He noticed you staring, and it made him smile.

" You've gone speechless, avenger. " He puts his hands on his knees, bending down to your stare level. You gulped when you realized you had been staring.

" Cat got your tongue? " He wanders, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze towards his. " Or perhaps there's something you're wanting? "

His words made you sweat. You felt your mouth salivating heavily as you looked him in his eyes deeply. He smiled, coming his head to the side.

" Answer me. " He whispers, pulling you into a soft kiss. His strong, large hands go onto your closed thighs and bring them back open.

" Do you want me to touch you? "

His voice is low and softer than a feather, his flesh hand going between your legs, his fingers bushing against your clothed core. You gulped hard, your eyes fluttering shut.

" Yes. " You responded breathlessly, trying so hard not to overreact with your how your body responded to him. Bucky was satisfied with your answer.

" Good girl. " He kissed the side of your face before standing back up. He unbuckled his belt, but he wasn't about to take his pants off just yet. You bit your lip, your mind curious as he crawled over your body and pinned you down onto the bed.

This was something the both of you had been dragging out for many years. It was only a matter of time before it finally happened. The fact that it was happening then was hard for you to believe. After the hard flirting, the small unexplained kisses every here and then, the waiting, your dreams were now coming true.

Bucky rolled a black hair band off his wrist and used it to tie his long hair back in a ponytail, straddling your hips and sitting upright as he did so. A few loose strands fell down to the sides of his face, along with the right side of his curtain bags. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think it was hot.

" Are you sure you want this? " He asked, the look in his eyes stern. The both of you knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to feel safe and he needed to make sure you were on board with it.

" Yes. I am. " You responded, nodding. You were biting down on your finger, waiting for him, your mind flooded with ideas of what exactly he could do to you.

" Just tell me to stop if it begins to hurt, and I'll stop. " His tone was the same; rigid all through and serious. He sat between your legs and soothingly rubbed his hands on your thighs. There was a stark temperature difference from his vibranium hand and his flesh hand; one was cold and the other way warm. It made you shiver, goosebumps rising up your skin. His fingers slid up to your hips, and he hooked his fingers against the waistband of your shorts.

" Let's get you out of these. " He grinned, pulling the clothing down your legs and throwing it on the floor somewhere, leaving you in just your black laced panties. He hummed in approval, spreading your legs out wider with his strong hands, his mind calculating just exactly what he was going to do to you.

" Oh, if Tony finds out about this... " You whispered, a sudden feeling of anxiety filling your stomach. Bucky shook his head, stilling his hands on top of your thighs. He could tell you were getting nervous.

" Tony's not gonna find out anything. " He reassures you. He bends down to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You clamped your legs around his waist, inviting him further in. He pecked your lips slowly, his flesh hand running up your shirt, feeling your bare skin under his palm.

" Whatever happens in this room tonight stays between you and me. " He told you, kissing his way down your neck. You moaned quietly as his lips moved across the crook of your neck, nipping at it, making you more desperate by the second. His left hand was busy with your center, his fingers dragging up and down your clothed slit.

" You're so pretty, you know that? " Bucky praised you into your ear, making you blush deeply. He lifted his head from your shoulder and tugged on the hem of your tank top.

" Are you okay with me taking this off? " He asked. He knew about you and your condition and didn't want to make you feel obligated to take it off. But you were confident in your body, so you agreed.

" Go ahead. " You told him with a cocky smirk. He didn't know what it was, but your little grin there made him instantly 10x more attracted to you.

You lifted off your back a bit, and he slip your top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere off into the distance. The cold air in the room came into contact with your skin, and you shivered at it.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Somehow you were so much hotter than he had imagined.

Bucky ran his hands up your sides, his eyes drinking in your body. Now it was his turn to be speechless.

" Fuck, " He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. How could he have put this off for so long? He seriously could not believe you were real. " You're gorgeous. "

His mouth trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your cleavage, his flesh hand coming up to cup your breast, his thumb laying flat on your nipple, rubbing it lightly. You let out a little moan at the contact, watching as his mouth latched onto your other breast. The tip of his tongue circled across your areola before his lips closed around your hardening nipple. He sucked on it gently, his other hand massaging and grabbing as much of your skin that it could.

When he rose back up, you could see a little wet line from his saliva glistening on your skin. He stared at his work with pride, giving your breast one last squeeze.

" You should feel ashamed of yourself. " He whispered, looking at you with a twisted grin. You were starting to feel your legs quake.

" Showing off your sexy body like that on the beach. " He went on, sitting upright and slithering his belt out of his pants. " like some kind of cheap whore. " He shook his head, letting his belt fall to the floor with a soft metal clink. You gulped hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor.

" Is that how you want me to treat you? " He questioned, pulling down the zipper of his shorts. You were at a loss of words, once again. He bent over your body, his knee pressing against your center perfectly and making you whimper. He directed your gaze towards his.

" Where are those pretty little words of yours? " He purred, cocking his head to the side. Just a moment ago, it felt like you two were friends arguing with eachother over a dumb prank--now the tides had completely shifted.

" I-i.. " was the best you could muster. He grinned. He liked this side of you.

" Yeah? You admitting to it? " He teased, running his hand down your stomach. You nodded your head, the best answer you could provide given your shocked state.

Bucky let go of you, and sat back up. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he flicked his head back, moving his hair out of his face. His hands rest on your hips, his fingers hooking your panties.

" Lift up for me, hon. " He told you, watching as you hesitantly lift your hips upwards. He brings your panties down and off your legs, throwing them off somewhere unknown, leaving you now completely bare in front of him.

" Oh wow, " he scoffed, running two thick fingers down your slit, collecting your slick on his skin. " Look at that. "

His eyes never leave yours, even as he slips those fingers into your plush, aching pussy. You mewl out loudly, the sound echoing through the room. You are wet and warm around his fingers, the feeling intoxicating him. You flutter your eyes shut, moaning softly and sweetly as his fingers slide in and out of you perfectly, prepping you for him.

As his fingers slip in and out of you flawlessly, preparing you for his already hardened cock, you flutter your eyes shut and murmur softly and sweetly. His fingers curl up into you, their tips flicking quickly across your flesh as they move, drawing out a little, quiet clicking sound from your center. You had to bite your hand from how loudly you were about to moan.

You felt your head spinning. You genuinely couldn't believe what was happening. It was like your fantasy come to life. You were fighting back so many moans threatening to break loose. Bucky noticed it quickly.

" Dont cover your mouth. " He told you, swatting your hand away from your mouth. Your eyebrows raised.

" But what if some-- "

" Oh, who the fuck cares? I want them to hear how good I'm making my girl feel. " He said breathlessly, his voice hoarse and his accent returning, this time coming out very heavily. Your pussy fluttered around his fingers at his words. He didn't even give you time to properly process his words before he was plunging his fingers back into you.

A loud, rather pornographic moan escaped your lips and your pussy clamped down on him tightly. He grinned.

" Already on that edge, suntan? " Bucky teased, his fingers curling right into your special spot. You moaned, your thighs squeezing his arm.

" Is it just like you imagined? " His blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, as he inquired. Your cheeks turning red, and you bit your lip. Did he read your mind?

" E-even better. " Your hips instinctively bucked against his hand as you rasped. Your mind was so hazy. He'd barley even touched you, and you were already about to cum. You couldn't stop the endless moans that's were escaping your puffy lips.

" O-oh Bucky.. " you gasped as his thumb drove up and down your clit. " D-dont stop."

His thumb brushed up and down your already, sensitive swollen, driving your mad with each stroke he gave you. His fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly.

But before you could go off that edge you so badly needing to get off of, he pulled his fingers from your dripping cunt. Your cunt immediately felt cold and empty without him. You began to stutter.

" Wh-what? " You blinked, confused. " Why'd you stop? "

Bucky cocked his head to the side and gave you a fake frown.

" Oh, I'm sorry. " He chuckled, rubbing your thigh with his metal arm. " I didn't realize you wanted it that bad. "

He brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet, lingering traces of you. His eyes fluttered closed, a deep groan escaping him as he savored the flavor. He wiped the rest of the remnants on his shorts, the movement casual, but there was something almost predatory in his gaze.

"Delicious," he murmured, voice low and full of satisfaction. You stared at him In confusion.

" Bucky... " Your head threw back against the pillow, annoyed. He could already sense your protests from a mile away.

" Shh, sweetie. Good things come to those who wait."

He stood from the bed, his muscles rippling as he moved, and gave your thighs a light, possessive pat with his large hands. The touch sent a warm shiver through you, a mix of nerves and anticipation. When he straightened up, he tightened the ponytail at the back of his head, flicking his hair back with a fluid motion. He was so confident, so effortlessly commanding.

"Just to make sure... you're still 100% okay with this?" His voice softened as he met your gaze, his hands resting on the waistband of his shorts. His expression was open, waiting for your answer, but there was an edge of something unreadable in his eyes.

You swallowed, your heart racing as you nodded. "Yes," you whispered, the words leaving your lips almost too softly. Your eyes traced over his body, sketching over his big arms and his muscular torso. This was man who could literally break you in half, and thinking that as your eyes raked over his body made you feel unbalanced and unsteady, even though you weren't standing.

You looked back up at him, your eyes meeting. Then, his shorts and boxers hit the floor in the hotel room with a soft thud. You gulp hard as the rest of his body is revealed to you for the very first time. Right there in the hotel room he was sharing with his best friends. Your eyes trail down his body, coming into contact with his hardened length--beaded with pre-cum.

Bucky set a knee down on the bed, crawling up your body, the bed shifting under his weight. Your breath caught in your throat as he hovered over you. He was so much bigger than you, practically taking up all your space as he sat above you.

With gentle hands, Bucky lifts the base of your plump thighs and spreads you open in front of him. You were already so wet and needy for him. He picked up one of your legs, his lips pressing against your ankle and traveling down to your calf.

" I can't believe we're actually doing this. " You breathed, your body tense with anticipation. With a slow push of his hips, Bucky's cock slow nudged inside you. Soft groans released from your mouths as he pushed further inside you. He set your leg down, but kept his hand on your knee to keep your legs open.

" Ngh. Me too. " He grunts. As his cock sinks into you, he can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate his size, welcoming him into your warm. The feeling makes you feel vulnerable but oh, so good. A couple more loose strands of dark brown hair fall down into Bucky's face as he leans back a bit, rolling his hips against yours not too slowly but also not exactly fast. His thrusts into you were slow, steady and measured methodically.

" Fuck, you feel so good, gorgeous. " He spoke gruffly through a breathless chuckle. His cock slid in and out of you smoothly, like how a knife would spread butter onto a slice of bread. There was a lump stuck in your throat, and you found yourself moaning softly with your mouth open.

Your fingers slipped across his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he faintly increased his pace. With each thrust he gives you comes out a loud, wet squelching sound from your cunt as it tries to clamp down on him and keep him inside you. You're breathless.

Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth and your thighs clench around his wide waist. Sparks of pleasure ran through you as Bucky's hands run down your legs and his hips start to hit against yours harder.

It was a feeling that you had been yearning to feel for ages. Each time his cockhead would brush up against your velvety walls, you would get butterflies in your pussy. It just felt so good. Your eyes flutter shut and you claw at his shoulder.

" Bucky.. " you whine, your back arching off the bed. He gets faster, his cock pushing deep into you, gliding in and out of you. He bends down to kiss your neck, forcing your legs open wider. Soft lips brush against your sensitive neck, and your fingers on his shoulders move to his back. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. The both of you moan and you pull your hair out of your neck to give him more access to your skin. A sudden, primal, dirty instinct struck Bucky's mind.

He searched your neck for your pulse point, and when he found it, he bit down on it and sucked on it harshly. You hissed, your nails that were digging into his skin now streaking down his back, leaving little white scratch marks in their wake. His back arches at your touch, but that only made him suck onto your neck harder. A loud yelp escaped your lips as he did so, a sharp but pleasureable sting striking your body. He was leaving little hickeys on your skin.

" What are you doing? " Almost choking on a moan, you managed to speak the question but rather wobbly. He grinned, rising up from your body and sitting back on his knees.

" Oh, you know... " His metal hand reached between your legs, his cold middle finger snaking down your warm clit. Your arms slipped off his back, and your body shook at the contact.

" Letting everyone know we're rule breakers. "

It was 6:38 in the morning. Bucky had pulled you from your room once again, this time accompanied by Sam and Steve. You were getting breakfast from the hotels dinning area, like the four of you had been plotting to do for as long as you had been planning the trip. Sam and Steve were already seated at the table you four we're sharing, munching on their breakfast while you were getting coffee with Bucky.

" How are your legs holding up? " He asked you with a cocky smirk, glancing at you his spot where he was pouring in his creamer. He rarely drank coffee with creamer in it.

" Little but sore, but I'm okay. " You responded with the shrug of your shoulders as your stirred in sugar. The dinning area was completely empty except for the four of you and the chefs who were walking around the area and setting tables. Bucky smiled and bent down to peck you on your lips.

As you both walked back to your table, you heald eachothers hand before sitting down next to each other in front of Sam and Steve. They were both laughing and whispering things to eachother. When they noticed you sitting down, Sam started cackling.

" So I see you two used the little gift I sent you both. " Sam laughed manically. You nearly almost choked on your coffee. Bucky's mouth flew open.

" So it was you!? "

#marvel mcu #marvel #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes

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bleulikedaylight · 1 day ago

Text

The Cat-astrophe Next Door

pairing: fur parent! natasha romanoff x fur parent! reader

synopsis: college life was already chaotic enough, but things took a sharp left turn when your sweet, innocent cat ended up pregnant—thanks to the mysterious feline next door. turns out, the culprit is none other than liho, the smug, too-handsome-for-his-own-good cat belonging to your intimidating (and unfairly attractive) condo neighbor, natasha romanoff.

warnings: mild language, implied pet mating/pregnancy (lmk if i missed smth !!) | wc: 1.9k | genre: rom-com, with a side of social media au !! <3

note: guys, it’s me again with another fic—hope you’re not tired of seeing me pop up on your feed LMFAOO. i had so much fun writing and editing this one !! also, liho is a boy cat in this au, and i used jennie as the face claim for Y/N because she’s iconic. i hope you guys enjoy !!! ><

part one ‎♡‧₊˚ part two

If there was one thing you thought you had under control in your life, it was your cat, Lily. She was graceful, soft, a little dramatic (gets it from you), and most importantly—indoor-only. Or so you thought.

Lily has been acting weird.

Not “she-scratched-my-ankle” weird. Not even “sat-on-my-laptop-during-a-Zoom-class” weird. No. This was something else. She’d been meowing dramatically, mood-swinging like a rom-com lead, and for some reason, she’d been eating like a linebacker after finals week. Most concerning of all? She had started waddling. Like... actually waddling, which would be funny—if it weren’t worrying. You Googled it (because of course you did), and then after spiraling through multiple Reddit threads and one frantic call to your mom, you decided to bring her to the vet.

And that’s how you ended up in the cold, sterile-smelling waiting room of the 24/7 animal clinic, wearing your worn-out college hoodie and slippers, holding Lily in a pink baby blanket. The receptionist had offered you a sympathetic smile, the kind that says, “Ah, another panicked pet parent. We’ve seen your type before.”

When the vet called you in, you followed like you were walking into a courtroom. The vet, Dr. Swift, was peppy. Too peppy for 2:14 a.m., but you appreciated the energy.

She cooed at Lily while examining her. “Well, she’s definitely healthy,” Dr. Swift said, smiling.

“That’s good,” you said, hugging the blanket tighter.

“She’s also pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Your baby girl, a mother?!

You stared. “She’s what.”

“Pregnant. A few weeks in, I’d say. Nothing to worry about—she’s young, strong, well-fed.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. “She’s… she’s never even left the apartment. You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered in horror, holding the vet's report like it was a death certificate. "She’s too young. Too pure. She doesn’t even go outside!"

Your vet gave you a knowing look, like she’s seen a lot of clueless cat parents. “She must’ve found a way. Cats are clever.”

Clever. Right.

Your condo wasn’t Fort Knox, but it was secure. Except—

The one day last month when you opened the window to fix the air conditioner and Lily disappeared. You had screamed, searched, and panicked for ten straight minutes—only for her to casually reappear like she hadn’t just shaved ten years off your life. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, just figured she got spooked and hid somewhere.

But now…

Now you remembered the Black Russian Blue that always lounged around the hallway. The same smug-looking cat that always stared into your window. The one who yowled dramatically outside your door during the night. The one who’d practically made bedroom eyes at Lily from across the screen.

Liho.

And if you remembered correctly, Liho belonged to the mysterious, intimidating, frustratingly gorgeous woman in 5C.

Natasha Romanoff.

Your mysterious next-door neighbor, Natasha Romanoff. Tall, quiet, and intimidatingly hot, She was the kind of woman who gave off 'could kill you but make it fashion' energy. Her cat was the same.

You had never officially spoken to her. Only shared elevator rides filled with awkward silence and exchanged the occasional nod in the hallway. She dressed like she was always on her way to fight crime. Or model. Or both. You’d once heard a neighbor whisper that she used to work in private security—or maybe she was in witness protection? Or maybe she was just that cool.

You stormed back into your unit and glared at Lily, who was now curled up innocently on your couch, licking her paw like she didn’t just ruin your entire week.

“This is your fault,” you muttered. “This is what happens when you flirt through the window slats.”

You weren’t crazy. You’d seen it. Late at night, your cat staring longingly through the balcony door, tail twitching. And across the small hallway gap, Liho would be staring back from his side of the building, eyes half-lidded and cocky.

Whatever the case, her cat got yours pregnant.

And now you had to knock on her door.

—

You spent the entire morning pacing in your living room.

Lily lay on the couch, blissfully unaware of the chaos she’d unleashed. You alternated between rehearsing your speech and having a breakdown.

“Hi! So funny story—our cats might be having kittens.”

Too casual.

“Your cat got my cat pregnant and I demand answers.”

Too aggressive.

“Would you like to co-parent?”

Too weird.

Eventually, you settled on a compromise between formality and desperation, printed out Lily’s vet report (just in case), and marched to Unit 5C.

You stood outside her door for a full minute before knocking. And when it opened, you almost forgot how to breathe.

Natasha looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, but in a cinematic, slow-motion, music-swelling kind of way. Her red hair was styled in a half-up, half-down look. The top portion is pulled back and secured, adding volume and keeping the hair away from her face, while the rest cascades down in soft waves, and she was wearing sweatpants and a fitted, long-sleeved, henley-style top in an olive green color. Her toned abs didn't need to be out like that. It was illegal. Offensive.

Her expression was blank but not unfriendly. “Yes?”

"Hi," you said with a very forced smile,

She raised an eyebrow. "Hey. Something wrong?"

You held up the vet report.

"Uh. Sorry to bother you. I’m Y/N—I live next door. My cat is pregnant. And your cat is the only male she's ever interacted with. So... unless immaculate feline conception is a thing, I'm pretty sure your cat knocked my cat up."

A pause.

She stared at you. Blinked once. Looked down at her mug. Looked back up.

“...Okay,” she said slowly. Then bit back a smirk. "You're telling me.. Liho is going to be a dad? That’s… one way to say good morning.”

You stared at her. “I just came back from the vet and she’s never been outside, except for that one time when she snuck out the window. And the only male cat she’s ever met is yours. Liho, right?”

“Yeah,” Natasha replied, leaning on the doorframe. “Black Russian Blue. Fluffy. Thinks he’s royalty.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s now the father of unborn kittens.”

Natasha took another sip from her mug, her eyes never leaving you. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. The vet said she’s been pregnant for a few weeks, and that’s exactly when Lily had her little great escape.”

“Liho’s neutered now,” Natasha offered. “A week ago.”

“Lily beat the deadline,” you muttered.

There was a beat of silence. Then Natasha stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Come in.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You look like you haven’t slept. Come in. If our cats made kittens together, we might as well talk about logistics.”

You hesitated. “You’re not… mad?”

She shrugged. “Why would I be? I mean, I guess it’s a surprise, but I’m not exactly going to sue your cat.”

You snorted. She smirked.

You stepped inside.

Her condo was neat. Not in a minimalist, empty way—but cozy. Bookshelves. Plants. A couch that looked far more expensive than yours. There was a tall cat tree in the corner and a plush cat bed that clearly belonged to a spoiled prince. And lo and behold—Liho himself, perched dramatically like the Simba he thinks he is.

He blinked at you. Then at your stomach. Then back at you, as if to say, You're welcome.

You pointed at him. “He’s got no shame.”

Natasha sighed. “Yeah, he gets that from me.”

You choked on your spit. “What?”

She chuckled—actually chuckled—and disappeared into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Uh, yes please.”

You stood awkwardly, taking in the place. There was a framed photo on a shelf: Natasha holding Liho, both of them looking dangerously close to rolling their eyes. There were a few Post-it notes stuck to the fridge with neat, organized reminders.

Natasha returned with two mugs. One said “No.” The other said “I survived another day without punching anyone. Go me.” She handed you the latter.

You sat across from her at the dining table, mug in hand, papers between you.

“So,” she said, “how do you want to do this?”

You blinked. “You’re actually… interested?”

Natasha leaned back in her chair. “I mean, I can’t just walk away. That’s deadbeat dad behavior. Liho would never.”

You snorted again. She grinned.

You hadn’t expected this. Honestly, you had expected defensiveness, or maybe awkward avoidance. But Natasha was—surprisingly chill. Funny, even. Dry and a little sarcastic, but not mean. And as she sipped her coffee and asked about Lily’s health, you started to relax.

“We could co-parent,” you joked.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Shared custody?”

“Maybe not that intense, but like… I’ll keep you posted. When she gives birth, you can visit. Bring snacks. Maybe we’ll name one of them after you.”

“Or after Liho. He’ll want credit.”

“Do you think he knows?”

Natasha looked over at her cat. “Liho, you’re gonna be a dad.”

Liho yawned.

“I think he’s ready,” you deadpanned.

You both laughed.

And for a brief, quiet moment, it didn’t feel like you were just talking about cats anymore. It felt like something had shifted. Something tiny and electric.

“Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other,” you said.

Natasha met your gaze. “Guess so.”

You sipped your coffee. She sipped hers.

Outside, the hallway was silent. Inside, two cats stared at each other across a room—and two people smiled over the rim of their mugs.

—

"I am losing it—oh my God, I can’t believe that just happened." you groaned, flopping onto your bed and opening your group chat with Wanda, Agatha, and Rio.

You sent them a selfie of you holding the vet report while Lily snoozed peacefully behind you like she wasn’t the source of all this drama.

Meanwhile, on Natasha’s side.

Back on your side of the internet, you opened Twitter.

#black widow x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wlw #female x female

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missmarveledsblog · 6 months ago

Text

Never doubt the Matchmaker ( jake seresin x reader )

Summary : nat phoenix trace was well known by her friends and coworkers as being a excellent matchmaker although jake seresin thinks it all bullshit till he finally let her set him up and jake learns never to doubt the matchmaker ...

warnings : goofy , fluffy , miscommunication sort of rom com feel to it , picture doesn't describe the reader just cover art i started making for fics

Natasha trace was a woman of many talents , she was strong , determined , and calculated . all good qualities that made her one of best female pilots but she also had another talent one that didn't even remotely have to do with the navy and it was her match making skills . when she disclosed the information it got laughs , didn't bother her she laughed along with them . then one by one it would start off joking then hinting to outright asking. first it was fanboy then bob then javy then rooster. only one she didn't get asked by was payback giving the man was already married and jake who still thought it was all crock . she didn’t really concern herself with what bagman had to say the results spoke for themself . fan boy was living with the barista she set him up with , bob was married to the animal shelter volunteer , javy was still going strong with the yoga instructor while rooster only began seeing the nurse it was still good and boy was he already gone . the results spoke for themselves as always but jake still a skeptic , still ready to shoot it all down of course .

“ he’s just afraid of finding the one is all “ rooster laughed .

“ i mean i don’t doubt your skill but hangman finding the one is a bit far fetched “ bob shook his head amused in the constantly denial of the match making but in fairness they all were til she did her thing.

“ don’t worry bagman i wouldn’t subject any woman to deal with you “ phoenix rolled her eyes .

“ because its not working i mean rooster would fall in love with a rock” he countered as the brunette exclaimed out a “ hey “

“ why does it bother you so much , you feeling left out , a little lonely “ she taunted .

“ never lonely phoenix i can get a girl to keep me warm at night any time” he winked taking his shot potting the ball .

“ why don’t you let her set you up then “ bob suggested .

“ he’s right you think it’s fake then prove it “ javy added .

“ ain’t you suppose to be on my side here?”

“ come on man what have you got to lose” rooster smirked .

“ you know what i’ll bit just to show you i’m right” he crossed his arms looking to the female pilot.

“Fine i’ll set you up bagman “ nat shook her head .

It had been weeks since the whole agreement in the hard deck and jake constantly being the one to let her know the fact . then like an angel to answer all there prayers she found the one , the one that would have jake seresin eating his words . then one day during lunch jake was looking at text of details for a date saturday . he promised to give the woman a chance , knowing full well it would end like all his dates do and that part wasn’t so bad . He’d gotten the womans number striking up a conversation , she could least do that only thing was when he asked for selfie she would reply later , later never came then it was “ i forgot next” which didn’t fill him with much fate but still keeping his word he continues to chat . saturday he was on the beach a regular tradition now playing dog fight football as the guys asked about his date.

“ i mean we text but no selfies so not promising “ he called as nat shook her head.

“ she hot bagman not that it matters “ she rolled her eyes .

“ all chicks say there friends are hot , i’m just being honest” he smirked .

“ not al about looks “ rooster pointed out .

“ says the guy with the hot nurse girlfriend , you telling me if she wasn’t attractive to you in the smallest bit you would be with her ?” he asked .

“ yeah because of the person , she is” .

“ again not that it matters but y/n is a hotty and well able to handle you “ nat scoffed .

“ yeah we’ll see about that phoenix”.

When he got home still texting his date asking her what she was going to wear so he would be able find her . all he got back was long red dress probably something a grandma would wear he didn’t know why but that was what he thought . then he got ready thinking the worse as time got closer , like it was set up in a different way , a ploy for phoenix to get back at him and set him up with some lady that had twenty cars the generic mad woman crossing his mind . he could slip out early that was for sure although javy was telling him it would be ok also agreed to call with fake emergency. He was glad he agreed to meet somewhere else because if this was a trick least there would be no witnesses that was for sure . checking over least he looked good as he looked down at his dress pants that fit snugly on his legs of the light blue almost whitish blue shirt that made his chest and arms look great . he was ready to prove natasha trace wrong and make a lady happy to get the jake seresin experience . he was sure it was going to be a disaster , some sort of catfish situation even though he had yet to she her face expectations were not high. He stood outside the bar it was classy place so who he thought he would meet would stand out a mile off already building an image of some desperate woman . parking and taking one look at his phone both message one to tell him she was at the bar and another from javy to have good time but he was also on standby if needed . heading in there was one woman at the bar in a red dress , long that stopped at her shins , her long legs crossed with a pair of black open toed heels , spagetti string straps as she looked around she was gorgeous. Maybe if his date failed he could ? .

She couldn’t believe she let natasha trace do her whole match maker thing knowing how it was going to fail , from texting the guy it was ok nothing special didn’t seem like he was into it either so least she wouldn’t be the only one who was going to go into it with less expectations , plus she could only imagine what she was going to meet not that she didn’t find nat’s flyboy friends attractive because they were but they lacked a little something . she herself worked as a mechanic not as glorious or as dangerous as the navy but she and nat bonded over being in a male dominated area even still she was confused as the receptionist . now here she was sitting waiting for some stranger when she could be in her shop finishing the shit ton of cars that needed to be fixed but maybe a few drinks would be ok , help take the busy week off her shoulders . one so busy she kept forgetting to send a selfie and then she thought it would be more fun to keep the mystery going . she text him to let him know he was at the bar barely flickering her gaze when he text to say he was outside well here it was.

“ showtime “ she winked to the bartender downing the drink waiting for whatever disaster that was coming her way .

“Erm y/n “ the southern drawl clear his throat she turned to raise her hand.

“ over here” she smiled ok , so he wasn’t tragic looking maybe it was shallow but hey he was gorgeous blonde so she wasn’t complaining .

“ well darling nice to meet you “ he beamed , he’d give nat this one she was the hotty at the bar .

“ jake? Nice to meet you too “ she held her hand out almost swallowed in his own , lifting it to his lips and kissing her hand .

“ what are you drinking ?” he nudged .

“ just beer , southern boy huh” her own accent coming out more as she talked .

“ austin born and raised , you ?” he took the seat noting the slight disappointed glance of bartender since he came over.

“ dallas , would you like to go sit down and get some food because i for one am hungry ?”

“ lead the way beautiful whatever you want it on me “ he beamed holding his hand out and letting her take him anywhere and it would be anywhere damn she was like a siren luring him to sea . following the sway of her hips like they were personal hypnotizing him and maybe they were , pulling the seat out putting the full gentlemen charm because shit she had him hooked with her body already .

“ so jake from austin what made you ask nat for her skills “ she asked looking up ever the gentlemen pulling her chair out and pushing it in for her as she looked up through her lashes at the blonde .

“ honest answer?” to which she nodded . “ honestly i wanted to see if she was good as other say kinda a skeptic but maybe not so much “ he winked as her head tipped back and wondrous sound of her laugh came out.

“ oh my god same i only agreed because she set my cousin up with ostrich , duck some bird dude “ she laughed .

“ rooster?”

“ YES ! i haven’t met him yet but my cousin ironic dove is singing his praise then when she told me she got a perfect match not gonna lie since your being honest and all but i said no for while stuff at works been well hectic “ she shook her head.

“ what is you do , you never said in your texts plus you owe me a selfie or two “ he teased .

“ a mechanic actually while other girls where playing with barbies i was playing with tools and hotwheels i’m only girl of a bunch of boys so i guess when i wanted to be one of them safe to say my mom was little let down to say the least “ she chuckled .

“ i’m only boy of bunch of girls i’m second born though “

“I’m the baby , i’m actually working in a shop owned by my two older brothers and top at my job not as exciting as being a aviator for the navy though” she winked .

“ nah i’m impressed least i know if my truck ever has trouble i know who will take care of it for me” he smirked leaning forward honestly he hated how much he was going to be hearing nat gloat because he was already hooked this woman was perfect although she was a decade younger but fuck she was making him feel like a teenager.

The date was good he laughed a lot she was funny , she seemed interested in knowing him and kept the conversation light nothing was felt pushed or awkward . it was perfect date he hated he would have to tell phoenix as much he didn’t want that night to end , they even made out in the back of his truck so why was it two days after the date and everything was radio silent . only thing that he was told was she got home safe and would contact him again . he never had that much fun on a date especially one that didn’t end in sex , he wanted to be respectful , he also didn’t wanna text and come off desperate so he was wondering what hell went wrong . maybe he could ask nat and swallow his pride at the fact she was good but clearly not good if he was ghosted .

She wondered what went wrong did she come on too strong , did he not like her . the date was perfect and yet she never got text back after she told him she got home safe . it was all good even making out in the back of his truck til he stopped it now she was slightly annoyed he ghosted her . burying herself in the overflowing work she could of been doing instead when the familiar sound of an engine . to see natasha trace coming her way all smile probably ready to hear about how it all went .

“ i’m mad at you “ y/n huffed tying her hair up before diving back into the hood of the corvette that needed dire attention.

“ what did he do ?” she groaned now holding the coffee she brought like a peace offering instead of an early celebration .

“ ghosted me , i thought we had a great time , even made out in his stupid truck and boom nothing even when i offered him to follow me “ she grumbled looking up .

“ wait what javy said jake had great time i was here to rub it in both of you “ .

“ well i’ll do that rubbing in your matchmaking skill ain’t all that .. but i love you and you didn’t know this was gonna happen so i guess i ain’t actually mad at you… my vagina might be “ she laughed finally taking the coffee.

“ i’m gonna find out what going on cause something is not adding up “ nat brows furrowed as she head off ignoring the protest that came from y/n mouth .

She couldn’t make sense of it , according to javy he was smitten like really smitten so what the hell was going on . she knew y/n was younger than jake by ten years was that it but then she was thinking jake would date younger than himself maybe not that gap but again it didn’t seem to bother him . it wasn’t even to do with the match making anymore ..ok maybe it was could that be it , he was ghosting y/n in his own need to be right. Now she was pissed as she drove a little faster , parking her car and storming down the halls. She didn’t even look at the guys when she got to jake staring up , eyes narrowed and hands on hips .

“ what is your problem how come your ghosting y/n , she said she had a great time with you and what is it your need to be right because that fucked if you don’t like her least be a man and tell her “ she gritted .

“ what are you talking about , she ghosted me nat she should grow up and tell you the truth “ he scoffed .

“ she looked upset although she wouldn’t show it … she thinks you don’t like her she offered her place ?” nat said even more confused .

“ believe it or not i was being a gentlemen because i actually did like the her.. The date “ he corrected pulling his phone out to show the fact he ended up texting her couple times .

“ oh you stupid man , it concerning your still flying that not her the name is similar but you’ve been texting another woman no wonder she didn’t answer … idiots “ she scoffed as jake looked at his phone he didn’t even realize that name was still in his phone he just saw the first three letters and was currently cursing the device in his hand . it all connecting in his mind only for rooster to say it all out loud.

“ shit you actually ghosted her after all” .

“ where she work cause she not gonna believe me if i text her now ?” he asked chasing after nat who honestly was done with life at the moment.

“ if i tell you , you gotta wear a shirt that says i was right for three nights of my choosing in hard deck ?” nat mused even though she was gonna help him either way but didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun too .

“ you know what i’ll let you have six , come on “ he pleaded ready to dart out knowing he’s morning was free .

“ don't make me regret this “ nat smirked texting the address . “ make sure you check the right message “ she called as he ran off flipping her off .

he didnt know what it was but he was hooked on this girl like some sort of spell was cast on him . he usually didn't bother texting after the fuck boy tendency was strong he knew it himself but shit he was so disappointed and turned out to be his fault his fuckboy ways or some sort of self sabotage . already losing something so good before it even started he wanted to delete all the contacts in his phone maybe change his number start a new leaf. He was just hoping he wasn’t too late as he got into his truck nat sent another message telling him the coffee and baked good peace offering to bring as well as his size maybe he would wear the shirt an extra night for that. It was a race for what he didn’t know but he wanted to find out.

She was tired but finally she gotten on top of the overflow of repairs ones even her brothers were impressed she managed to pull of maybe the frustration of being ghosted was working in her favor , she was ready to grab her coat and head out .

“ hey kiddo truck coming in can you sort this while i sort something in the office” her brother mikey called .

“ you gotta be shitting me i’m heading out deal with it yourself” she scoffed.

“ do it and i’ll give you rest of week off and next week paid and overtime?” he said holding phone to his ear .

“ fine after this i’m out for a week and half “ she rolled her eyes throwing her things down tying her hair up .

“ yeah she going i think a date would be a good payment huh trace” he chuckled heading into the office.

She was huffing and puffing but hey time of and extra money she could be happy with , what she wasn’t happy with was a tall blonde aviator standing by the truck .

“ we’re closed”

“ says your open “ he nodded to the neon sign.

“ busy should of called a head.. Or do you have a phone?” she scoffed hand on her hip , burning hole in his head with the fiery gaze she had on him .

“ can we talk please ? i got your favorites here” he held up the container.

“ you could of talked to me before , my brother is in there i will not hesitate to get the bat from his car “

“ hear him out … heres your stuff and thanks for screwing up so i can get a date with nat “ mikey called placing her stuff at the door before heading in and locking the door .

“ traitor “ she mumbled taking her bag and only see her car keys missing . “ son of a bitch “ she grumbled . But it wasn’t going to get her down no come hell or nothing she would walk her ass home . so she did turning out away completely not even sparing the blonde a second look or care if he was following her or not.

“ come on please let me explain “ jake called.

“ explain nothing if nat sent you here tell her it’s all good “ she waved over her shoulder not only was she pissed she was no embarrassed thinking he owned her explanation . which he did but one of his own violation and not one her friend force him to make . she heard his booths hitting the asphalt , she could hear the panting behind her shaking her head she kept walking .

“ come on please”

“ you ghost me , i practical ask you to sleep with me i thought you were doing the whole gentlemen thing but turned out you just didn’t like me which is fine i mean not everyone gonna like me but shit when are guys gonna be honest and be like look i ain’t feeling it or some shit “ she snapped not caring about the group of guys walking by .

“ dude you blind “ one commented as she just groaned walking past them all .

“ hey hey i did want to ok and i was trying to be a gentlemen , i wanted to take you in backseat of the pickup if i could “ he yelled only instead of the group of guys passing it was a group of elderly women .

“ pig “ one scoffed as they hurried passed.

“ i thought you ghosted me ok …i maybe even worse asshole to admit that i was texting the wrong number because the names were similar which i’m going to have to text that person the same thing cause i’m pretty sure she married now” he winced as she finally stopped walking .

“ you want me believe and if i did it worse that it was a mistake dude it ok we didn’t click i mean i thought we did … oh shit “ she said as he held his phone up showing her the messages her name but the contact was similar . “ is it safe for you to be flying “ she asked .

“ yes i made a dumb mistake but my eyesight is fine “ he snorted shaking his head nat previous statement .

“ so you didn’t ghost me ?” she blinked up slightly still trying to piece the new information slightly relieved since lets be real being ghosted is never fun .

“ i didn’t ghost you be a fool to , if your in a forgiving mood since i cleared it up would you maybe wanna go on another date ?” he stood not the usually confident or cocky way he was used to he was almost shy when asking a definite new feeling that he would ( would not ) out loud .

“ i guess since you got me a week and half off work i could least do that “ biting her lip , wanting to kick herself at the urge to twirl her hair in her finger like some smitten school girl .

“Well then lets get going “ he winked wrapping his arm around her only for the same group of guys from before walking by looking barely 16 .

“ dude kiss her “ one not so hushed whisper yell .

“ man i was gonna ask her out” another whined.

“ y’all watching this whole time ?” she snorted while jake was looking like the cat that got the cream having her at his side .

“ tiktok was done … if things don’t work out with old man heres my number” the guy winked as jake took the piece of paper instead .

“She wont need it son “ was all jake could say leading her back towards the shop , back where his truck was least if her brother was doing him the solid he could have a small drive thru date . he was new to it all actually wanting to see the one person actively and exclusive ( not that he told her , he wasn’t bradshaw ) but he was willing to show it in future . He also learned never to doubt nat and her matching making skills again well how could he went he was going to be wearing the visual proof .

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