#and toni is worse for being down bad for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imtryingbuck · 7 months ago

Text

He doesn’t know.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Tony date until he breaks your heart, he soon regrets it.

Word count: 1,800

Warnings: angst. cheating (sorry). Tony’s 40 readers 28. Swearing. pepper is terrible (sorry) mentions of miscarriage.

Masterlist

You had been dating Tony for the past three years, you met when he bumped into you in the restaurant you worked at. The air was knocked out of the both of you, you not only because you hadn’t expected to be nearly knocked down on your ass or the feeling of a strong arm wrapping themselves around your waist just before you hit the ground. Him because he wasn’t expecting to knock into the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

From that day on Tony came into the restaurant just to see you, spending money on food he didn’t eat sometimes he would just sit at the bar and talk to you if you were manning it.

Six months after your initial meeting he asked you out even though there was an age difference between the pair of you, you said yes.

Everyday since you two were dating was different, he spoiled you to no end from expensive gifts to lavish trips to beautiful places. The love you two shared was something you never experienced before, it was pure. It was genuine.

You had never been happier.

For the past five months Tony was becoming distant from you, he was always working on projects that he never let you in on which you understood, you didn’t need to know the ins and outs of his business. Whenever you were lucky enough to spend time with him he was on his phone texting. When he came home from work he would go straight into the bathroom and you’d be lying in bed hearing the shower running.

For five months you tried and tried to get him to slow his work schedule down worried for what it was going to do with his health but all he replied with was yeah I will, but it never happened.

Today was your four year anniversary and since he hadn’t said anything about what you two would be doing you had decided that you’d surprise him at work with a home cooked meal since you knew he wouldn’t leave to go to a restaurant as work was too busy. Hopefully he could spare thirty minutes of his time to spend with you. It was your anniversary after all.

Getting out of the car you walked into the tower, greeting the receptionist with a smile receiving one in return you go into the elevator. The higher the box went up the worse your nerves got.

It’s just Tony, you thought to yourself.

Once the door opened you looked around to see any of the hero’s you had become friends with in the now four years you had been with Tony but you couldn’t find anyone so you headed straight to Tony’s office. Knocking on the door twice you opened the door.

And that’s where everything that had been happening in the past five months where Tony had been acting strange and distant had all made sense.

The man you was in love with, the man you stood by when everyone slated him, the man that defended you publicly when you was being called a gold digger, the man who has now officially broke your heart.

That man was sitting on the couch in his office with a blonde woman sat on his lap. Lips locked together. Her shirt on the floor. His hands roaming her torso.

“This looks bad...”

That’s all what the man who you have loved for four years, the man who you have just caught cheating on you, said when he heard you drop the containers off food on the floor.

“What is it babe? Oh it’s you” the blonde said when he pulled away from her, she saw where he was looking so she turned to face you.

Your heart dropped.

It was Pepper.

With your eyes fixed on his you stumbled backwards knocking into the door frame on your way out. Turning around you walked as fast as your legs could carry you back to the elevator, with every step you took you could hear Tony behind you.

“Y/n. Y/n, baby slow down. Please just wait” thanks to the wait of the elevator he managed to catch up to you.

“Baby it-it’s not what-“

“How long?”

His heart clenched painfully at the way your voice sounded so small, seeing the way you flinched at him touching you crushed him. Tony knew that he only had himself to blame. He also knew he was going to have to tell you the truth, knowing for a fact that you were going to be leaving him forever when he told you broke his heart.

“Y/n-“

“How long”

“S-six mo-months” Tony’s stomach sunk when he saw your hand go flying to cover your mouth, hearing a muffled sob coming from you.

“W-why?”

“Y/n-“

“Why. Why Tony?”

“I-I-I…I don’t know”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s been cheating on you for the past six months. He doesn’t know why he’s cheated on you and thrown your three years relationship down the drain.

He doesn’t even have an answer to give you for breaking your heart into millions of pieces.

“Wasn’t-“ No. No you wasn’t going to ask that. No way was you going to ask the cheater ‘wasn’t I good enough’ or ‘what did I do wrong’. He was the one that cheated, not you. No way was you going to ask all the questions that you wanted to ask because he simply did not know why he had been cheating on you for the past six months with his assistant.

The same assistant that knew you two were dating.

“Y/n baby please-“

“Babe have you told her?” Pepper’s voice cut him off this time.

Tony’s eyes went straight to his shoes finding it easier for him to shake his head without looking at you.

“To-told me what?”

What could be worse than finding out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for six months?

“I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby”

That’ll do it. That was worse.

You and Tony agreed that you’d both start trying to get pregnant when you celebrated your three year anniversary. It just wasn’t working but you kept trying. Until eight months ago. You found out you was pregnant, the way Tony’s face lit up with tears streaming down his cheeks when you told him he was going to be a father engrained it’s self into your memory.

A month after that happy day you woke up to cramps in your stomach, Tony rushed you to the hospital where they told you that you had lost baby Stark.

Maybe that’s what drove him into the arms of another woman. A woman who was the same age as him. A woman that could give him what he’s always wanted.

A woman that simply wasn’t you.

“D-do you love her?”

Tony frowned at the question, he expected you to call him names or something. He expected you to tell him that he was worse than the devil himself but no, no you asked him if he loved Pepper.

“Y-yes”

“I-I wish you two t-the best.” Tony’s sad eyes filled with tears, the itch to ask him why he was sad for gnawed at you, Pepper looked smug.

Turning to Pepper you looked her in the eyes “you know the saying don’t you? What they do with you…they do on you”

You were rather proud of the fact that you didn’t stutter when looking at the woman who was sleeping with your boyfriend. Seeing her smug smile drop when she understood what you were implying turned your pain into satisfaction.

“Y/n?”

“Hel-hi Tony”

“I knew that was you, hi”

It’s been six years since you last saw Tony, a year after leaving you met a divorcee a few months after moving to a new town. Things moved quickly between the pair of you, a year after meeting him he proposed, a month later you were married, eight months later you gave birth to your daughter. Finding yourself pregnant four months after giving birth to Ali, several months afterwards you gave birth to twin boys Harvey and Jackson.

“Hi Tony. What are you doing here?”

Here being in the town you lived in with your family, here being in the car park of target.

“We had a mission just dropping off for some food, what about you?”

“I live here”

“Oh, so how have you been?”

“Fine. What about you?”

“Fine. Fine. I-I messed up Y/n/n badly! Turned out that the baby wasn’t mine an-and I’ve been trying to find yo-“

“Momma!” You turned around to find Ali running at you full speed, her pigtails flailing around as she got closer to you.

“Momma? Y/n is she mine?”

“No-“ you had to laugh at his question. Luckily he hadn’t touched you in them five months of him cheating on you, it was impossible for him to be the dad of your beautiful baby girl. “No she’s my husbands”

“H-husband?” Tony stuttered, eyes going straight to your ring finger. Heart sinking when he found a shiny diamond ring sitting there.

“That would be me, nice to meet a friend of Y/n’s. Baby the twins made me get them a new toy”

“Made you? Your an adult, they are only children”

“They’re scary babe”

Tony stood there awkwardly watching the interaction between the woman who he has never stopped loving, and her husband.

“T-twins? You have three kids?”

“Yeah, they practically run the house. Always outnumbered with the three little rascals” your husband said smiling proudly. “Oh by the way I’m Andy, nice to meet you.”

“Tony”

“Yeah I know who you are. Come on baby we need to get going home” Tony didn’t like the way Andy’s voice was towards him.

“Coming love. It was nice seeing you Tony, I’m sorry about the baby. I wish you nothing but happiness, goodbye”

You didn’t even let him say anything back to you before you took Andy’s waiting hand as he had Ali in his other arm.

Getting into the car with your husband after he got Ali into her car seat, you smiled at the twins and Jacob - your stepson - then at your husband.

After finding out about Tony’s betrayal you thought you would never find love and happiness again but life lead you to Andy, the man who made you feel loved more than Tony ever did. Andy made you feel happier more than Tony ever did.

“Let’s go home”

As your family’s car pulled out of the parking lot Tony’s eyes never left the vehicle.

He had lost his everything the moment he let Pepper kiss him that first time. Now six years on he had truly lost his world to another man.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

542 notes · View notes

cas-kingdom · 9 months ago

Text

The Night Shift

A/N: First NCIS fic! Decided to keep my OC's name instead of reader as I'm pretty attached to her.

If you're alone on V Day, here's some Gibbs. <3

Title: The Night Shift

Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.

Words: 2568

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was tired.

She wrinkled her nose as something tickled at it and sat up to reach for the packet of tissues sitting dutifully by the pillow.

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was sick and tired.

Tony, the shit-stirrer that he was, leaned precariously back in his swivel chair to stare at her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the chair itself, she still would have noticed his sudden attention by the feeling of his eyes boring into her for perhaps the tenth time since they’d set up camp in the NCIS building about five hours ago. He was relentless.

Emmie paused. Tissue wedged in her nose, sinuses burning, she looked up and stared at him. Tony rose an eyebrow. Emmie hardened her stare. Tony, because he was Tony, purposefully leaned further back so she could see the exact moment he dramatically cupped a hand to his stupid little mouth and—

“Giiibbs!”

Emmie’s jaw tensed. Tony grinned in superfluous victory.

Another squeak, a more familiar one this time, and Gibbs’s swivel chair glided along the carpeted floor around the divider between the cubicles until he could see Emmie. She was still sitting up, looking quite the sight with a tissue halfway up her right nostril and her hair sticking at all angles. On any other day she would have responded to Tony’s pure gall by glaring him straight into the ground. But today was not that day. Today was a bad day. Today, her week-long, just-about-bearable cold had decided to manifest into sinusitis, and she’d woken with a face that felt as though tiny little men were mining for gold in her skull. Ducky had liked that metaphor.

Partly because she was absolutely awful at caring for herself when she was ill, and partly—mostly—because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on work if she was left to fend for herself at home, Gibbs had dragged Emmie into the office with him. She’d made her rounds all day—curled up on Abby’s little couch at first, then bundled off to an empty room when Abby found working in silence too impossible. At lunchtime, a meeting had been scheduled in the room, and she’d been forced to accompany Gibbs and Tony in the car to a naval base connected to the case they were working on, sniffling and groaning in the back seat like a Victorian child on her death bed.

And here she was now, at two a bloody m, lying on an ungodly amount of blankets, wrapped in Gibbs’s jacket and Tony’s hoodie, on the floor, feeling like her body was readying to explode. Life couldn’t get worse.

Unless you were acquainted with Tony DiNozzo. In which case, life could, and most certainly would, get worse.

Gibbs dipped his head and rose an eyebrow at Emmie. Emmie couldn’t do much in her defence but sniff. Hard. A slight protest only she had the guts to attempt. It was when he pointed a finger at her and motioned with it for her to lie down again that Emmie tossed her arms up.

“Do you know—” Another sniff—“Do you even know how hard it is to lie down and feel your sinuses drain into your throat?” Her voice was so nasally she couldn’t sound stern, even if she put every ounce of effort into it.

Tony, naturally, did not try hard to cover his amusement at that. He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, spinning from side to side absently in his chair with the tip of his tongue held between his smirking lips when Emmie turned narrowed eyes on him.

“I was getting a tissue, FYI,” she said to him and only him. “So, you can stop being a kiss ass, Anthony.”

“Emmie.” Gibbs disappeared behind the divider again. “Back to sleep.”

Tony, meanwhile, gaped. “Kiss ass who?”

Emmie ignored him and shuffled back down again. She shut her eyes and swallowed. Already the disgusting stuff had decided the place it wanted to be right now was her stomach, and was meandering slowly down her throat towards it.

“You were being a bit of a kiss ass,” she heard Gibbs agree.

“Oh, come on. You said you wanted her to sleep!”

“Yeah, and I do.”

“But you’re gonna call me a kiss ass when I tell you she’s not sleeping? Kiss my ass.”

“What was that?”

“Sorry, Boss.”

In all honesty, there was nothing more that Emmie wanted least right now than to sleep. True, she was exhausted, but the part of her brain not currently still enshrouded in said exhaustion wanted to be up and active again, helping Gibbs with the case like her internship allowed.

And yet, the man still believed she needed her head on a pillow.

The team had been working on a case all day, one she didn’t know the specifics of. It wasn’t exactly often that they stayed in the office well into the night to continue their current case, but it appeared Gibbs had a weird feeling about this one. From the snippets of conversation that she’d picked up and actually retained in her decrepit brain, a potential witness was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, and Gibbs wanted to speak to him the moment he woke up, which, according to the doctors, could be at any time. That apparently required the entire team to stay behind which, considering the fact Emmie was currently holed up on the floor of Ziva’s empty cubicle, not everyone had complied with.

The moment Tony got out of his chair to help Gibbs with something and disappeared from her line of sight, Emmie eased herself into a sitting position once more. She reached for the tissues again, rubbing at her leaking nose with the sleeve of Gibbs’s jacket and not possessing the brain power to regret that decision. She blew into a tissue, paused to catch her breath, then—

“Gibbs.”

Emmie deflated completely. Wow. The world truly hated her today.

She looked up to see McGee walking in with a bag of takeout. He barely glanced at her as he passed, choosing to instead spend that energy alerting Gibbs to the fact she was, again, not lying down.

Before either Tony or Gibbs could come into view once more, Emmie sighed, stuck two bits of tissue in both nostrils, and scooted backwards to sit against the wall.

“Can’t breathe lying down,” she said before anyone could say a single word. “And I’m tired of being tired. I don’t want to sleep anymore. Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. Shush.”

Tony’s head appeared around the corner, and he snorted again. Then the squeak of Gibbs’s chair as he got up. A rustling. A moment later he appeared with a takeout box in his hand, walking towards her. He lifted it so she could see, and she groaned, shaking her head. A corner of Gibbs’s mouth lifted but he wasn’t about to back down on this fight. He never did.

He knelt in front of her, close enough to see the pallidness of her face and the slight sickly tremble of her small frame. Emmie visibly relaxed when he reached out a hand to press against her forehead, the coolness of his skin momentarily dowsing the heat of hers.

Gibbs checked the watch at his wrist. “Another couple hours and you can dose up again.”

“Thanks.”

“Yep. ‘Till then…” He went to withdraw his hand, but Emmie’s own hand shot up and pinned his to her forehead.

“No,” she said simply.

“No to my hand leaving, or food?”

“No.”

“You gotta eat. You know the drill. Eat or sleep.” She grumbled something and Gibbs reached with his free hand to lift the lid on the box. The smell of warm chicken soup filled the space between them, and Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Come on, kiddo. It’s only soup.”

“I feel too sick to eat.”

“Sleep it is, then.”

“Dad—”

“Hey. The cure for alll Emmie-related illness is sleep. Always has been, always will be.” It was true. Gibbs knew his daughter better than she knew herself, after all. Everyone was different, but Emmie’s medicine was sleep until she could look him in the eye and confidently tell him she felt a bit better. If years of being a single parent had taught him anything, it was that.

With a bit of reluctance, he pulled his hand from her head and leant forward on his toes. “You don’t have to lie down to sleep,” he told her. “Here—” Emmie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with the pillows and blankets behind her, but when he sat back and she turned as much as her aching neck would allow, there was a nice little DIY upright-bed against the wall. Gibbs, seemingly proud of his work, was met with a look of absolute discontent on his daughter’s face.

He puffed his cheeks out and glanced at the soup. “Aeroplane?”

“Seriously?” Emmie deadpanned.

He reached for the spoon, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Worked when you were a kid.”

“There’re a few keywords in that sentence, Dad. Are you trying to give Tony more fuel to embarrass me?”

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder. Tony had returned to his desk, leaning dangerously back in his chair to gain the best vantage point. The man had absolutely zero shame.

Gibbs jerked his head. “Check with the hospital about Lupin, would you, DiNozzo?”

Tony visibly deflated. Emmie sent him a smug look and he stuck his tongue out. Reluctantly, he wheeled back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Do this, DiNozzo, do that, DiNozzo,” he grumbled to himself. “Oh, while you’re at it, why don’t you polish my boots and write a thesis on my intellectual prowess, DiNozzo? Sure, I’ll get right on it, Boss!” He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear. “Should I get your laundry and your coffee too, Boss? Should I do—hi, there! Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, calling for an update on a patient? Ryan Lupin. Yeah, I’ll hold. Thanks.”

“Dad.” Such an exasperated voice could only belong to the resident invalid, and after only a second’s hesitation, Tony—slowly—wheeled himself back, as far as the cord to the phone still held against his ear would allow. Emmie and Gibbs were still on the floor, the former looking most disgruntled at the spoon in the latter’s hand.

“I’m being serious,” she said then.

“So am I,” Gibbs said, “very serious. I’m being very serious right now. Soup?”

Emmie rolled her eyes, but a smile was pulling at her lips all the same. She shook her head. “Go back to your desk, old man.”

Tony’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Oohoohoo!” He was close to rubbing his hands together in sheer glee. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss?”

“Lupin, DiNozzo.”

“I’m on hold!” The fact that Gibbs made no sign that he was going to pick his daughter up on her insult, when Tony knew that if he’d been the one to call his boss elderly he’d be getting a bit more than a slap to the back of the head, hit a sore spot. “Wait,” he said, looking hilariously appalled, “you’re actually gonna let her get away with it?”

Gibbs, defeated in this part only, dropped the spoon back in the box and put it on the desk. “I’ve been called worse,” he called back, “believe me.”

“Grandpa,” Emmie said.

“Thank you, Em, that’s very helpful.”

“Ninnyhammer, pillock, douche canoe, old man—”

“You already said that one.” Gibbs chuckled. “Douche canoe?”

Emmie shrugged. “Dunderhead.”

“Alright.”

“Ugly…nut.”

“Jemima.”

McGee, who’d since been silently working and eating at his desk, paused. Mouth open, forkful of noodles on its way, he turned confused eyes to the ground.

“Her name’s Jemima?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “How long you been here McGee?”

As soon as Emmie looked the slightest bit like she was about to resume her name-calling, Gibbs put his palm over her mouth. He rose a brow in warning. She blinked. Blinked again. Then—

“Aw, come on!” Gibbs’s face contorted into one of absolute disgust as a rush of air and wet stuff flew at his hand. He withdrew it immediately, holding it away from him, while Emmie sniffed and nonchalantly used the jacket sleeve again.

“You little crapbag.” It was the best he could come up with.

“What? You think I plan my sneezes?”

Tony, up until now quite enjoying the performance, rolled quickly back to the desk with the phone at his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m still here.”

Gibbs stood and walked briskly to his desk so he could grab the stack of napkins the takeout had come with. “I don’t doubt anything when it comes to you.”

“Thank you.” Emmie rubbed at her red eyes with her hand and slumped against the back of the wall. Gibbs, coating his hands with sanitizer, watched with a knowing eye. He shook his hands and walked back around to Ziva’s cubicle, perching on the desk to look down at her.

“You’re sick,” he said.

“I know. And?”

“And, sick people eat soup, and they sleep. Okay? They don’t stay up at all hours of the night—nooo, no, no. I’m talking now, kiddo. I know you’ve been sleeping all day, I know you wanna get up and back to work, but that’s not happening until your fever’s gone. No point in fighting that, and you know full well. Clear?”

Any other day. Any. Other. Day. The protests were practically clawing at her throat. But a sudden wave of nausea rushed over her and she backed down immediately. Still, the thought of lying down again was awful, and the tired eyes she turned on her dad somehow translated that.

Gibbs sighed. “What’s it gonna take, huh?” Emmie didn’t need to think about her answer to that. She wasn’t even sure her expression had changed at all when Gibbs shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, “come on, now. I gotta work.”

This time, she did change her expression, putting it on in the way she knew worked best. Gibbs, naturally, relented.

“Fine,” he said, motioning with his hands for her to move over. She did, though admittedly it was a bit of a pitiful move with her aching body. He breathed a short laugh but came to sit in the miniscule space she’d made beside her anyway.

“Thanks, douche canoe,” Emmie whispered.

Tony put the phone down. “Still knocked out, Boss,” he said, pushing his chair backwards. When he saw Gibbs on the floor, arm wrapped around his daughter, who had her head on his shoulder, he crossed his arms over his chest and positively pouted.

“Hey, why do you get to sleep?”

Gibbs chuckled and shut his eyes. “When you’ve got a sick kid, I’ll let you sleep on the office floor with her. Wake me before Lupin does, would you?”

“How am I—Boss? Boss?” Tony threw his arms up in the air and shook his head, grabbing a notebook from his desk to doodle in. “Kiss my ass.”

“Heard that.”

“I wanted you to.”

Well, one thing was for certain. Gibbs may have won this fight, but so had Emmie.

NCIS Masterpost

544 notes · View notes

softgreengrass · 9 months ago

Text

I’ll Survive

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: happy then sad then happy, requested, supersoldier!r but it’s not relevant to plot

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: death, grief

A/N: thanks for the request!

You and Natasha are in the gym when FRIDAY calls a meeting.

“Come on, is that all you got?” she grins, leaning into the punching bag with all her weight.

You fire a few more jabs, and her feet slip back a little. Sweat rolls down your forehead.

“Attention, all,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out. “Mission briefing in the conference room. 10 minutes.”

You don’t stop your barrage of punches, your eyes locked onto the Avengers logo in the center of the bag.

“You sure you’re ready to get back into it?” Natasha asks.

You’ve been coming off of an injury for a few months now. Bad intel, a trap, a bullet straight through your femur — being on bedrest was your seventh circle of hell.

Instead of answering, you wind your fist back and hit the bag hard enough to send it flying across the room, taking Natasha with it. She slams against the wall and laughs.

You wipe your face with a towel before walking over and kicking the bag away from her. “Sorry.”

“Super soldiers,” she mutters, shaking her head.

You offer her a hand. She takes it, rising to her feet, and leans into your chest. Butterflies shoot through your stomach.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asks softly.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flick down to your lips, and you pull her into a slow kiss. Her hands find the back of your neck, lace through your hair. It only lasts a few seconds before she swipes her foot behind your leg and shoves your shoulders hard.

You land flat on your back with a groan.

“10 minutes, killer,” she smirks. “And don’t ever do that again.”

You’re the last one in the conference room, and there are no seats left around the table. Cap shoots you a disapproving glance as you close the door behind you.

“Hope no one made any weekend plans,” Cap clears his throat. “Because we’re heading to Russia.”

Tony groans obnoxiously. “Come on, really?”

The holographic screen suspended above the table turns on, showing the floor plans of the Kremlin. Everyone falls silent.

“This isn’t a villain of the week, guys,” Steve sighs. “Hell, it’s not even HYDRA.”

You whistle, and Rhodey glares at you.

“As far as we can tell, the Russian government is doing this entirely of their own accord. The only one pulling the strings is Putin.”

“What are they doing?” Clint asks, leaning back in his chair.

“They want to put nukes in space.” Steve presses his clicker and the screen shows the earth and a dozen orbits around it. “That’s a one-way ticket to world war three.”

“And you want us to, what, eat the nukes?” Tony asks.

Cap clenches his jaw. “The Department of Defense wants us to make sure they don’t launch. My plan makes sure Putin won’t ever get the chance to.”

“You want to assassinate him?” Natasha asks quickly.

Steve faces her. “I want you to.”

Your eyes meet Natasha’s through the projection, and you swallow.

“He’s gotta be the most well-protected guy on the planet,” Bruce says.

“That’s a suicide mission!” Clint cries.

“Which is why we’re all going,” Steve says, in that authoritative old man tone that shuts everyone up. “Banner’s right. It’s going to take all of us just to get a chance.”

“Pretty sure assassinating the Russian president is an act of war,” you say. “Number two in command is just gonna send those nukes up and point them straight at the Pentagon.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Then they turn towards Steve.

“Which is why I have a plan,” he says firmly.

You don’t like it one bit. Not one bit. Natasha, undercover for two weeks without comms. Clint posing as a diplomat. The rest of you hunkered underground, waiting for the right moment to invade the Kremlin. It’s almost recklessly risky. And yet, Steve has his full faith in it, which means the rest of you do too.

That night, Natasha holds onto you tightly. She’s terrified to go back there, regardless of what she says. It’s worse than going after one cell, or even the Red Room itself. It’s the man behind the curtain who’s been controlling it all.

“It’s going to go fine,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you further into her.

“It is,” you say. You take her hands and press them into your sternum. You’d only succeeded in being the big spoon a couple times — never when she was stressed. So you stare at the wall. “I mean it.”

“Me too,” her breath fans against the back of your neck. “We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you exhale. “I mean, aliens? AI? Bruce when he’s hungry?”

She laughs, and that eases some of the pressure on your heart. “Worst case, I’ll survive.”

“You always do.”

“I always do,” she smiles. “And best case, I take care of him, you get rid of the cabinet, and Steve slides in his new leader. And we get out of there and go to… I don’t know. The Dominican Republic.”

“The Dominican Republic?”

“Why not?” she kisses your shoulder. “A vacation. Moscow’ll be a pretty intense way to get back into the action. You’ll deserve a break.”

“I’ve been on a break for three months,” you snort.

“Oh come on, you don’t want a piña colada? Palm trees? White sand beaches?”

“Well when you put it like that,” you say, turning around to face her. “I guess we could go to the Dominican Republic.”

She smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Promise?”

You could stare into the green of her eyes forever. “Promise.”

Not three weeks later, you sit staring at a computer screen in a bunker a hundred feet below Red Square. Tony sits to your left. There’s no point in watching the feed, since all of the cameras are outside of the Kremlin and Natasha walked in an hour ago, but you can’t help it. You feel powerless.

For ten days, Natasha has been Alina Konstantinovna Petrova, a middle-aged politician who just got back from a stint in Belarus. When she emerged wearing the nanotech mask for the first time, you genuinely didn’t recognize her. Her voice, her gait, her mannerisms — all changed. Sometimes you forget she’s the world’s greatest spy.

But with no comms and no tracker, all you have is your faith in that fact. Just your trust in her.

If she’s on schedule, she should be having tea with the Prime Minister, but really she could be anywhere, doing anything. There’s absolutely no way for you to know.

“You know,” Wanda sighs, tipping back in her office chair and tossing a tennis ball into the air. “I don’t think all of us had to be here.”

“Agreed,” Tony grumbles. “I was supposed to be at a gala right now.”

“Do you think-”

“Quiet!” Steve orders, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Do you see that? Is that smoke?”

You lean closer. It is smoke, pouring out of a second-floor window, and it makes your stomach drop.

Steve taps into the emergency comms in Clint’s ear. “Is there a fire? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Clint’s voice replies, hushed. “I don’t know, they put us into a ballroom. I don’t know where she is.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

“What do we do?” you ask, rising to your feet.

Steve grimaces. “If… if we make contact now, she won’t have a shot. It’ll all be for nothing.”

“The Kremlin isn’t usually on fire,” you snap.

“I’m sure she can handle it,” he glares back. His voice is dangerously quiet when he speaks again. “She knows what’s on the line here.”

But five minutes later, the smoke hasn’t stopped. It’s spread. Clint and the other diplomats are being evacuated.

You keep your eyes glued to the feed, scanning for Alina Petrova’s face among the crowd. She never emerges, but neither do the Prime Minister or cabinet. Maybe there’s a hidden exit.

Just when it seems like the fire is coming under control and the chaos is cooling, the cameras cut out.

You rush for the exit immediately, Tony and Steve right on your heels. Your entire body goes numb as you climb the ladder.

It’s probably fine, you think, hands squeezing the rungs too tight. The fire burned a power line, or the government stopped the footage to protect their image. She’s fine. She’s fine.

You heave the manhole cover out of place with your shoulder, hoisting yourself onto the street and ignoring the pedestrians who stare at you.

It’s absolute pandemonium. There’s a crater where half of the Kremlin used to be, and the other half is engulfed in flames. You sprint towards it.

Steve immediately shouts after you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

Maybe there’s a hidden exit. She had to have noticed the fire, she would’ve escaped, she would’ve made it out. She would’ve.

The police that are always stationed around the Kremlin make a border around it, though no one except you is trying to go towards the burning building.

“Ostanavis’!” they yell, but you hurdle their makeshift barricade.

If she was on schedule, she would’ve been on the east side, top floor. The heat doesn’t even register in your mind.

You root through rubble as fast as you can, barely noticing when Wanda and Steve join you in your search. Smoke stings your eyes and fills your lungs until you can barely choke out a breath.

There are heaps of ash that might’ve once been people, might’ve once been Natasha.

You climb trembling supports to get to the second floor: there are bones there, even fragments of medals and jewelry. The farther you get from the crater the less charred the bodies become. But you can only get so close to the live blaze, and none of the bodies are hers. The skin on your hands begins to blister from red-hot ash and metal.

At some point Steve pulls you away, ignores the way you claw at him and scream that you won’t leave her. The three of you (Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had been wise enough to run away from flaming wreckage) end up in a Russian prison, charged as enemies of the state responsible for the fire and ensuing blast.

By the time the Department of Defense negotiates you out, you’ve convinced yourself that Natasha must’ve escaped. There’s no other option. She couldn’t die. If you didn’t find her, she couldn’t have been there. She must’ve gotten out.

But when you walk into SHIELD’s Moscow base, she isn’t there. It’s only Fury and Clint.

“Where is she?” you ask, rushing towards them. Everyone else seems to slip out of the room.

Fury’s eyes stay trained on you, swimming with something you don’t want to decipher. Your heart pounds against your chest

“Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Clint says, his voice raw.

“No,” you respond immediately. “No, she isn’t.”

He closes his eyes.

No. You see a flash of her smile, of the jacket she loved. You feel the ghost of her touch on your face.

“I thought she faked it,” Fury says after a moment. “But… we made a deal a few years ago. If one of us faked it again we’d leave something behind so the other would know. A ring.”

You’ve never heard his voice so weak before. Somehow it’s scarier than anything else.

“But there was no ring,” he clears his throat. “Just this.”

He holds out his hand, opens it. The necklace you gave Natasha last year is bunched up on his palm, dark with soot. Your knees almost give out. She never takes it off, not to sleep or train or go undercover. She would never leave it behind.

Reality dawns on you like an awful black wave. Natasha is dead.

“I’m sorry,” Fury says, resting a hand on your shoulder. You can’t feel it. Every breath, every blink is manual now, every movement an act of will.

Worst case, I’ll survive.

You just want to hug her again. Just see her face one more time, knowing it’ll be the last. Suddenly a deep red rage fills your vision, and your muscles twitch to strangle whoever set the fire, whoever planted the bomb.

“There was no body?” you ask hoarsely. You can’t tear your eyes from the necklace.

Fury shakes his head. “Ash.”

A lump forms in your throat that won’t leave for weeks. You feel like you’re looking at everything through frosted glass, frozen in the moments that you just held. It’s like you’ve been caught in a spiderweb.

You don’t cry until you set foot inside her room at the compound. Everything is just how she left it, like she just stepped out. Like she’ll come back any second now.

The covers on her bed are rumpled.

You can’t wrap your kind around the fact that she could be gone, vanished into thin air, reduced to dust. That she’ll never touch anything again. You sit down on the floor and hug your knees.

For a few days you don’t eat; you don’t speak for longer. The gaping hole in your chest churns and twists in an agonizing way. Every night you dream of refusing Steve’s plan, or going up as soon as you saw the smoke, or doing anything except sitting idly while she burned alive.

You’re at Steve’s throat often enough that Tony kicks you both out of the compound. It’s not like either of you are of use, anyways. The others manage to channel their sorrow into work. You don’t.

Clint takes time off, too. Laura manages to convince you it’ll be good.

But with nothing to distract you, you feel the pain of every passing moment. Every minute that you get older and she doesn’t. You don’t want to have to think of a life without her in it.

Weeks or months into your dull gray blur of a life, someone knocks on your door. You hope it’s not Steve. You don’t know if it’s the season, but you could spring for a box of Thin Mints.

It’s not a girl scout. It’s Natasha.

Your eyes go wide; your face pales. Nanotech mask? Clone? “A-Are you real?”

She wheezes out your name, keeps her hands clutched to her side.

“Is it really you?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears and your hands trembling as you reach out to touch her.

“I missed you,” she breathes, her eyes roaming your face.

She has a black eye and a split lip. It’s her. You drink in the green of her eyes and the red of her hair and the softness of her face and you can’t keep the sobs from escaping. She crashes into your arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ribs. She smells like sweat and home.

Natasha is crying too, shaking, her face hidden in your chest. You close your eyes and tilt your head down to rest your lips on her head.

“You’re hurt,” you say when you remember how to speak.

She pulls away and kisses you deeply. It feels like God blessing you, even if it tastes like blood. She’s real. You don’t let go of her until she gently pushes you away.

“We should go inside,” she whispers.

You’re in a daze for half an hour, while you wrap her ribs and bandage the gash on her arm. She doesn’t leave your gaze for one second. When you’re finally satisfied that she won’t drop dead, you collapse onto the couch next to her.

She climbs on top of you, pulls you close.

“They were onto me,” she murmurs into your hair. “I had to escape, I couldn’t let them think I was alive.”

Anger roars in your chest. “I’m not losing you again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill them,” you growl, wrapping your arms around her securely.

“I’ll help,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “They’re probably coming here.”

“You were followed?”

“I wanted to see you,” she sighs. “I didn’t take all the precautions.”

You laugh and bury your face into the crook of her neck. “You think we can go to the Dominican Republic after?”

“I’ll break up with you if we don’t.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu #natasha x reader #fluff

360 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-avengers · 1 year ago

Text

Hangover Remedy

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: fluff, bad hangover

Summary: There's nothing worse than having a hangover went he air conditioning is broken on a hot summer day. Luckily, Loki is around to help cool you down.

Squares Filled: hangover (2023) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The sun is peeking into your room like the menace she is. Get up, Y/N! Time to get the hell up and do something productive! You can practically hear her yell at you, and the sunlight seems to shine brighter at the thought. You groan and turn away from the window not having enough energy to get out of bed and close the curtains.

What the hell happened last night? You have a pounding headache and achy body. Tony threw a party at the compound and invited everyone he knew. Thor came over with alcohol from Asgard. Everyone knows you. They knew if he presented you with alcohol from Asgard, you’d challenge him to a drink off. You’re never the one to back down from a challenge even though everyone told you to.

Now you have a raging headache and an aching body because of it.

If you’re going to combat this hangover then you have to at least get out of bed. You roll your body off the side of the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. With all your strength, you stand up. The headache seems to get worse at higher elevation but you deal through the pain. Not only do you have to deal with a nasty hangover, it’s unbearably hot. Sweat sticks to your skin making your clothes cling to your body.

You walk to the bathroom and brush your teeth. If you’re not going to do anything today, you have to at least do that. You shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen where Tony is. He’s making something to eat and looks up when he hears you come in.

“We thought you were dead,” he chuckles.

“Shh.” You close your eyes and hold your finger up to silence him. “You’re too loud.” You open the fridge and grab a cold bottle of water. You chug half of it. “Turn the air on, would ya?”

“No can do. The air conditioning unit is busted.”

“You’re Tony Stark. How can your air conditioning be broken?”

“Since you’re the one who overloaded Friday when you sprayed alcohol all over the motherboard.”

“Sorry,” you wince.

“Tell that to everyone else. I’m outta here. I’m going to Pepper’s house where it’s cold. The repair guy is coming later today to fix it.”

Tony grabs a water bottle and leaves the kitchen. You sigh and walk into the living room to see Loki sitting on the couch reading a book. If he knows you’ve entered the room he doesn’t show it. You walk over to the couch and sit next to him, and he peeks at you from over the top of the book.

“Rough night?” he smirks.

“Shut up.”

“I told you not to outdrink Thor. You weren't going to win.”

“Scold me tomorrow. Right now, I need total silence.”

Loki goes back to reading his book while you lean your head on the back of the couch. It’s still uncomfortably hot inside the compound so there’s not a position on the couch that feels good. Since you and Loki are on the same couch, every movement you exert makes him move. He sighs in frustration and lowers his book.

“Stop moving.”

“It’s hot in here.” You use your hands to shift on the couch when you feel something cool radiate onto your hand. You touch Loki’s arm which is cold to the touch. “You’re freezing!”

“One of the perks of being a Frost Giant, love.”

You don’t think twice about what you’re about to do. You immediately cling to his side and allow his skin to cool your own. He hates other people touching him but when he sees the content look on your face, he decides that maybe this isn’t so bad. He shifts on the couch to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and he wraps an arm around your body. He opens his book back up and continues to read as if you’re not there.

His cool skin and your raging hangover are enough to make you fall back asleep. You stay like this for the rest of the afternoon. Before the sun sets, Thor, Tony, and Steve come back from wherever they are with laughter in the air and smiles on their faces. Loki glares at them from across the room which makes them stop in their tracks.

“If one of you wakes her up, I’m stabbing all three of you.”

“He’s serious,” Thor whispers. “We should go.”

Loki smirks at their retreating figures and smiles when he feels you snuggle closer to him.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki fiction #loki fan fiction #loki fan fic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

535 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 1 year ago

Text

Floorplan

Steve Rogers/female reader 2.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Nomad era Steve. Reader and Steve have a baby together, mention of pregnancy. Possessive Steve Rogers. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Orgasm delay/denial. Could be considered toxic. Steve has issues with boundaries. Angst. Steve Rogers is keeping a secret.

Steve Rogers is keeping a secret.

It’s heavy, heavier than most, this you know without a doubt, because you carry it as well, it’s existence a variable in your life that you never expected, never even imagined, if you’re being honest.

A variable that ties him to you, indefinitely. For eternity. For better or for worse, without the papers or proof, the only exception being the small infant that sleeps in the room down the hall, while her father has you pinned against the bed, fingers digging into your thighs, splaying your body wide for him to do as he wishes, because you’re so fucking weak.

“Steve.” You hiss, word drawn loud from your mouth when the tip of his tongue works in tandem with his fingers, playing your clit easily, hips eagerly rocking against his face.

“Pillow, honey. Don’t want to be too loud.” He murmurs a reminder into your cunt, crooking a finger up against that spot, the sweet spot that waits for him inside your body, working you into a mindless haze, building you up closer and closer to an orgasm until you’re panting, curve of your spine shining with a glimmer of sweat. “That’s it, that’s it. Almost there.” He hums, pulling away at the last second to peek up at your face, beard wet with you, absolutely soaked with your arousal. It glistens in the low light of your bedroom, and he smirks before going back to his meal, dotting gentle and slow kisses down the inside of your thigh that make you whisper desperate pleas.

“Steve, please, don’t-“ Don’t stop. Keep going. Please, please, please.

“Shhh. I know.” He coos. “Just need to get you ready for me sweetheart, that’s all.” And, if you weren’t so lost in the haze of your pleasure right now, you’d probably have something sharp to say in response. He always does this. Brings you to the edge over, and over, makes you wild for him, ache for him, just so he can pluck your strings perfectly, harmonize your need with his since your mind won’t budge, his possession of your body always tipping you over the cliff and into his arms, every time, without fail.

Even a sailor lost at sea needs an anchor.

And he is lost, has been, for some time. Since Bucky. Since Tony. Since he broke everyone out of the raft and went on the run, dipping in and out of towns and cities across the globe.

That’s how you met him. That’s how you brought him home one night, that turned into two, that turned into more, and more. Your greed, your desire overriding your good sense because he was leaving soon, and he wouldn’t be around, and it’s all just some fun- I can keep a secret, Steve, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe with me. We’re not even together, just enjoying each other’s company, yeah?

You never thought you would survive it, loving him. Loving a man who’s not a man at all, who’s lost in the wilderness, who’s relearning everything about himself and the world all at once. Cast out by his country, his own namesake. Living on the run. Living with his band of misfit toys.

So, you kept it to yourself, even though he didn’t. Even though you heard him whisper it to you in the middle of the night, when he thought you must be asleep. Even though it felt like obsession, possession, both ends burning the midnight oil. You kept it to yourself, kept the smile on your face, kept the swell of your emotions at bay.

If you don’t love him, it won’t be as bad, when he goes. When they move on.

Then, Steve Rogers did something he didn’t even know he could do. Something he didn’t intend, he claims, something he was told should be impossible.

He gave you a baby.

He gave you a baby, and everything changed.

You’re just about to spit out something insistent, something needy, as he calls it, when you’re being moved, flipped over to your belly with no warning, the warmth of his chest bleeding across your back. His beard tickles against your ear, mouth pressing sweet kisses to your temple, and you can smell yourself on him, the proof of your weakness for him all over his face.

“Here we go, good girl. I’ve got you.” The solid weight of his cock lays between you, the spill of his pre come smearing against the inside of your thighs and then inside of you, the heavy, thick head pushing in little by little, your mouth drooping wide on the pillow.

“Ahh-“ you groan. It bites, the stretch, the sting of it all, and he knows, he loves it, and you do too (even though now you never tell him, because it’s not like before, not like when you weren’t the mother of his child, not like when things were simpler, when you could have walked away, when you weren’t falling down the rabbit hole with a man who has lost his entire identity, his country, his life-)

“God, honey. What a sweet little pussy you have for me, huh?” His teeth find the skin of your neck, below your jaw, and they graze with a nip, light pressure to punctuate his ownership. For me. For me, for me, for me. “Just perfect. My perfect, good girl.” You try to bite back the moan that rises in your throat but it’s impossible, and he’s no fool, the curl of his smile imprints across your skin, cock sawing in and out of your body like you were made for it.

He says you were, of course. That you were made for him, and for no one else, and he doesn’t care what happens in the next year, or two, or ten. You’ll always be his. He’ll always come back. He’ll always be here.

“What will you do if… when you go home, to America?”

“I’ll bring you both. Put you up in a place. Or maybe I’ll buy you a house, honey. With a white picket fence and everything. Give you another baby. Give you two more babies.”

“Steve-“

“No, no. Don’t.”

“Steve.” You whine, still mouthing the pillow, fingers tight in the sheets. You clench down around him, unable to keep yourself from barreling towards your orgasm any longer, and he whispers encouragement in your ear, soft praise of how good you feel and how wet and are you going to come for me, honey? You going to give a me a good one? Let me feel you squeezing my cock with it?

Your first orgasm comes with ease. So does your second.

Your third comes with tears that he laps up across your cheek, as too many words get stuck in your throat. I love you. I hate you. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to leave.

It builds, each time he slips inside the house at night, each time you come home from work or errands and he’s sitting on the couch reading a book, or sketching, just waiting for you and Emmaline. It builds and builds, when he’s got you bent over the kitchen table, cheek pressed to the wood, sinking his cock into your body with an unmatched fury, breathing claims of ownership against your skin. Mine, for me. My girls. My baby.

“Maybe I’ll give you another. Fill you up until you’re overflowing, get you pregnant.” It’s an overload, a killshot straight to your heart, your nervous system, and it engulfs you in fire, your body clenching around his cock involuntarily, like all it wants is to be bred by him, fucked deep with his come until you’re round with his baby, again. And he knows it, knows it too well. Sees the way your eyes shutter, can feel the way your body begs for it. You want to come, and he’ll torture you with it, dragging it out until you’re breaking apart. “Go ahead, tell me honey. Say it, do you want it?”

“Y-yes, please. Please, daddy.”

Everything you carry, all the tangles, the snarled mess that exists in your heart for him surges, and his hand sneaks between the mattress and your body to cup your belly, palm warm like a brand. Like it’s always been, now, and before-

He holds you from behind, hands flush overtop your navel, stroking the roundness of your stomach with longing affection.

“How’re my girls today?”

“Tired.” You shift, and he hums in response. You’re about to snap at him about being here in the first place, remind him he can’t just use his key whenever, let himself inside whenever, but his hands drift to the bottom of your belly and lift, robbing you of all the lectures and rebuttals as the pressure on your spine is instantly relieved.

“That better sweetheart?”

He’s deep, so deep that it burns, head of his cock punching against your cervix, hitting that spot repeatedly. You gasp, burying your face in the pillow, smothering the shriek of your moans. He’s close, you can tell, you can feel it, the way his muscles start to become rock, the strike of his hips against your ass moving you further up the bed until your neck is craning to the side to avoid the headboard.

“Here it comes honey, lie still, just- just let me- let me give it to you.” It’s a stammered slur being pushed out through a too tense jaw, restraint burning in his muscles, arms cradling you like a precious, rare gem to be coveted, something more important than duty and a shield.

Later, he’s still in your bed, even though he said he wouldn’t be.

He’s heavy, and hot, so hot that you don’t need a blanket when he holds you. You find it fascinating, even more curious that your own child runs hotter than normal too, more evidence of the clear truth that both you and Steve are working vigilantly to hide and disguise.

“You should sleep.” He’s insistent, and your lashes flutter closed with a big breath.

“You don’t have to stay.” He wants to. He’s stubborn about it. It’s the reason he gave for appearing on your doorstep earlier.

“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come sooner.”

“It’s not like I know where you are these days.”

“Don’t. Don’t… start this.”

“She has colic, Steve. There’s not much you’re going to be able to do, we just have to ride it out.”

“I don’t care. I’m here.”

He was the one who had managed getting Emmaline to sleep earlier, rocking her in his arms until she settled, sweet little baby finally succumbing to lullaby of sweet dreams in her dad’s arms.

He’s so good at it, taking care of her, understanding what she needs and when, that you hardly sputtered a protest when he clicked her door shut and pulled you in for a kiss, pushing you into your own bedroom and laying you out on your back, a hand pinning your stomach to the sheets, another gripping your thigh wide for him, his strength forcing your body into a trap, where you were powerless. Stuck.

“I guess I gotta put both my girls to bed, right? Isn’t that what you needed? Just needed daddy here, honey?”

“Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll get her, when she gets up.” The fire of his skin makes everything in the room feel heavy, feel heady, and it’s so easy to slip into your imagination to pretend, dream about a world where your relationship wasn’t shattered, where Emmaline’s dad wasn’t just a shadow in the dark half the time he’s in the house, in her life, in yours.

“You can’t just keep coming here, acting like everything is normal.” You whisper to the ceiling, but he doesn’t respond, just hums into your skin, deaf to your sense, your logic.

You’re right. You know you are. Why can’t he just see that?

“Steve.” You pick at him. Pushing and pushing, careening closer to a breaking point, an inevitable end when he will sigh with the weight of exasperation, and then ease himself out of bed and disappear into the night.

“This is the normal, for now.” He says instead, a rebuttal that takes you by surprise, a change in his usual course. Fingers stretch over yours with a yank, pulling you closer into the bend of his body. “But it won’t always be like this. We’ll go home soon.” Home. It sounds nice, but feels like a threat, considering this has been your home for years now, and this was where you were raising Emmaline, and this is where you had settled into life, started a career, put down roots.

“Steve, I’m already home.” You remind him and he chuckles softly against your brow.

“Are you?”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers smut #peaches writes #steve rogers x female reader #mcu #nomad!steve #nomad!steve rogers #chris evans fanfiction

554 notes · View notes

justkending · 6 months ago

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 3/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N Note: I was typing away for the next chapter to come, so chapter 4 will be posted tomorrow (it will also be longer too)! Thank you again for all the support and love you've shown me for this series :) Love all you guys!

_________________

Bucky’s POV:

Why’d I think she’d be able to handle an adult conversation as soon as I started getting serious? When will I fucking learn?

I waited until Y/N shut her door before I went back out to the living room. She drove me insane, but I decided to keep up the habit of staying up late for her.

During one of her drunken nights at one of Tony’s galas, she had revealed that she preferred sleeping when someone else was awake. In exposing her reason why, it made me sympathize with her trauma.

“It’s like having a night watch. If someone else is aware, I can put my guard down. Not that that even happens often enough, but oh well,” Y/N drunkenly swayed the side of her silk dress from left to right as she watched the people on the dancefloor.

I knew the feeling of never being able to fully settle into sleep or relaxation because you’d seen all the horrors in the world. We knew what lurked out there and the consequences of someone getting the jump on you.

So, from the first night here, I would stay up in the living room until midnight, sometimes later. Like clockwork, soon after 11 pm, she’d startle awake from a nightmare. I could hear her breathing and heart rate thanks to my enhancements, and I may or may not have channeled them into her room, given the nightmares she’d had in the past.

So far, there were none so bad to the point I had to go in and check on her, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tuned in to her room and checking every night in case the tides turned.

Even on the nights she frustrated me like tonight and made me reconsider why I was about to talk to her about… this. This chemistry that was starting to feel closer to real than fake. A feeling I can’t seem to shake, and now I’m wondering if I’m imagining it. Especially when she can’t seem to turn off her annoyance for me even when I think we finally have met in the middle to some extent.

Then again, I lead on that I don’t understand her when it’s quite the opposite. Her story is not far from most of the people who are recruited into our team. A form of a hostage situation where her choices were taken, and she was conditioned to serve some sadistic asshole until she was freed by her own doing. At least her own variation of that… Anyone coming from that kind of situation tends to bond easily over the trauma.

Not Y/N though…

I never start by being rude to someone. I mean, I’ve been told I’m intimidating and can come off as a terrifying giant assassin, but people in the same field who have seen far worse don’t tend to take that personally, considering almost everyone I work with knows my backstory and the reason behind my resting-assassin-face.

But Y/N, for some reason, was very standoffish with me from the get-go. For the first few months of us knowing each other, she ignored me, left the room when I came in, found an excuse for another partner on missions, and a list of other things that quickly made me believe she wanted nothing to do with me.

I may have reciprocated her behavior here and there, growing her annoyance with me even though I didn’t know where the annoyance had begun. I couldn’t help it, given the nasty looks and pure irritation that steamed off her when she looked my way.

I think the sentiment behind her feelings towards me still stands. But then her comment tonight, “I don’t hate you,” got to me.

I threw the laptop I had tried to use to distract myself again to the side. The TV was on, but all I heard was the patterned thumping in my chest starting to grow.

“No. I want to know fucking why,” I grumbled, standing up abruptly and stomping down the hall to the master bedroom.

The door was shut, and from how she looked, she may have already tucked into bed for the night, but oh well. We were going to talk this out. I couldn’t go another day trying to decipher these feelings and confusions.

I heard a “Jesus!” from the other side after my metal arm rapped three strong knocks in the center of the light sage-colored door. I banged again when I didn’t hear movement to follow up with it.

“Calm down, Paul Bunyan! No need to chop the damn door down. I was seconds from sleep,” she groaned before the door flung open, and she squinted up at me with the hall light bringing brightness to her near pitch-dark room. “What? What is it?” Before I could start my sentence, she tensed and looked around me vigilantly. “Shit. Did something happen?”

I shook my head quickly and instantly saw her shoulders go back and the grogginess return.

“I want to talk.”

She screwed her eyebrows up at me. “Dude. Seriously?”

“Seriously, dude,” I replied sarcastically, pushing past her into her room, turning on the light, and hearing a protest I was too annoyed to listen to.

“It can’t wait until fucking morning when my brain isn’t at 2%?” she crossed her arms, watching me from the doorway.

“Be real. Your brain doesn’t go below 75% even when you’re sleeping,” I answered, knowing the reality of never being able to shut off fully. Being constantly aware and on the edge of your seat, ready to pounce.

She eyed me since it wasn’t a diss, and I could see her debating whether or not it was a compliment.

“What do you-”

“You say you don’t hate me, but it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. From day one, it has felt the very opposite of that,” I cut her off with a harsh laugh at the end, getting right to the chase.

I’m standing at the end of her bed, arms crossed, and keeping an intense stare on her. Her stance straightens, and she shuffles her weight on her feet, arms mimicking mine.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said in a guarded tone. “What changed?”

“I can’t go on with this if I don’t know,” I answered honestly, motioning between us.

“I argue you have to go on with this either way,” she popped a hip, leaning against the threshold of the door frame.

“Y/N,” I level my eyes at her, and I can see her take in the seriousness in my features. “Just tell me why.”

She looks at me with a tilt of her head as if considering her options in how she wants to approach this conversation.

“We just don’t- mesh well…” she says slowly as if trying to sell it, but even she knew she was lying out of her ass.

“Bullshit. Try again,” I shook my head once and kept my eyes trained on her.

“Bullshit? You wanted to know-”

“I wanted to know the truth. You’re selling bullshit, and not very well, might I add. Be honest. Now.”

She huffed a laugh before blinking at me.

“We’re the same ranking if you’ve forgotten. Therefore, I won’t be taking commands from you, especially with that tone. But since you’re so hellbent on knowing my reasoning, maybe consider how you talk to me.” She took three slow steps closer to me as she spoke. “So ask me again without being a military servant, and maybe I’ll consider staying civil with you.”

She is one of a very select few kinds of people actually able to intimidate me. Her story was one to compete against mine. Though not many knew all the details since she was adamant about people being in the dark about it, we all knew what she was capable of. Her enhancements, although similar to mine, were not nearly as strong in most aspects. However, that didn’t deter her from being able to take a man quadruple my size down and keep them there.

I knew enough about her brain to know that it was one of the sharpest ones I had come across in my time. Everyone on the team had enough experience in this life to be able to manipulate a lot of situations, but Y/N was the queen of manipulating a situation to work out better for her and her team. It was like she was five steps ahead constantly, and it could be intimidating at times- not going to lie. A strategy someone in our field would think they had down until they saw her ridiculous efficiency at work. Hence, why she was her own kind of weapon for our team.

I give a single nod in acknowledgment, knowing my intensity would be matched and not work in my favor.

“You say you don’t hate me, and after these few weeks, I’m starting to believe you somewhat. However, our history keeps me from following that hope,” I answer.

She seems to take something from my confession and lock it in her mind for later use.

“Our history is complicated,” she replies, looking me up and down subtly and then moving to the side of the bed where the sheets were disturbed.

I now notice the detail that only one side of the bed was disrupted while the other stayed perfectly made. My own detail to lock away for later.

“But why? Who said it had to start like that?” My hands go up. She gives me a look like I should know the answer to that and I raise my eyebrows. “You think I’m to blame for our bickering and aimless fights?”

She scoffs, “I wouldn’t say aimless. There are definitely targets to be hit.”

“Cut the shit.”

“No shit to cut,” she counters quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg under her and shrugging.

“I’m trying to have an adult conversation, and you’re acting like an angsty teenager.” I deadpan, attempting to keep the twitch in my eye at bay.

“And you’re acting like a crotchety old man who demands my respect,” she shouts back. “Ever think maybe that could be the reasoning behind our never-ending feuds?”

“How could I? You don’t talk to me unless you're dissing me, fighting me, or attempting to make me look bad,” I give a large fake smile.

“Take a fucking hint then, Grandpa,” she enunciates her curse.

So I do. I backtrack our conversation and come to a conclusion. Maybe it's not an accurate one, but it's an idea nonetheless.

“You think I demand respect from you? When have I ever told you that you have to have respect for me?” I asked, more confused than angry now- but definitely not low in anger either.

She stares at me, contemplating her answer.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get into this,” she waves between us minutely, diverting her eyes to the bathroom door on the wall to the left.

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight if-”

“Not much different than most nights. Welcome to the crew,” she huffed, shifting to adjust her blankets over her in an irritated mood.

“Why are you so against talking this out?” I growl, forgetting all sense of mental clarity and stomping to her side of the bed, aggressively throwing her blankets off her. “Stop trying to go to bed and talk to me like an adult.”

“An adult?” She takes in a high-pitched breath and stands straight in front of me. “You’re the one who just threw my blankets off like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get a cookie after dinner! Sorry to break it to you.” Her finger jabbed into my chest. “But I owe you nothing, Barnes! I owe no explanation. I owe no respect. I owe no reason for how I choose to act around you.”

I was pissed. Royally pissed, and yet… I couldn’t seem to see past the pure sadness in her eyes. The actual pain that she tried so hard to hide, but in her state- the state I had put her in- she was losing the battle. She was losing it and yet not breaking her eyes from mine, knowing I could see it.

My intensity shriveled slowly as seconds passed, and she didn’t try to fight the tremble on her lip.

“What did I do?” I asked softly, my hands instinctively coming to her arms, but the touch made her break the eye contact and turn fast, making my hands drop. “Y/N, what did I do?”

And I meant it. What had I done, and how could I change it?

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes miniseries #bucky barnes x avenger reader #mcu mini series #justkending #bucky barnes mini series #reader insert #mcu reader insert #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #marvel series #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfiction

181 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 11, Unsure - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket not knowing how to navigate her emotions

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: Jade just had to rub it in that she not only hears you and Bucky fighting about her, but that it brings her joy. So, you had to make sure you fucked your boyfriend extra loud.

A/N: My mom is coming up to visit after I get out of work today, so obviously, I cannot post while she is around (the contents of this story would stop her super-Catholic heart or, at the very least, have her send me out for an exorcism), so I'm scheduling this update.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @crist1216 @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Bucky were technically better, in the sense that you hadn’t argued again, and he didn’t mention Jade to you, or answer her calls or texts in your presence, but they were so much worse in that she was taking up more of his time than ever before, and you saw each other less and less. You tried to rationalize it by telling yourself that the amount of time the two of you had spent together at the beginning of your relationship had been abnormal– nearly constant– and that the current situation was more on par with what regular couples experienced, but the truth of the matter was that you felt yourself pulling away from him, building a wall around your heart to protect yourself from what you saw as the inevitable heartache Bucky was going to inflict upon you.

He’d been right– you had been going around in circles, and every time you thought you’d made some progress, another event would transpire that would just end up leaving you feeling worse. Yes, he always had the sweetest words to say to you to bring you down from your anger, but at what point did they go from being the actual truth to just being something said just to placate you? More and more, you found yourself questioning the difference between the two, and as a result, your walls were going back up with a vengeance.

If he noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. He was preoccupied with preparing Jade for her first mission. She’d be going off to Malaysia with Sam and Rhodey (you may have begged Tony to ensure she was never partnered with either you or Bucky, and bless that man and his affection for you, he’d been more than willing to comply), and Bucky was working overtime to make sure she was ready.

And perhaps a small part of you was hoping she’d go MIA in the jungle. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud to anyone but FRIDAY.

The day before she was scheduled to depart, you were lounging on your couch, working on your laptop. Your crisis prediction algorithm project was finally ready, and you were putting the finishing touches on the presentation you were scheduled to give to the board in less than two weeks time. You were just adding some graphics when Bucky came in the door.

“You haven’t started getting ready yet?” he asked, kissing the crown of your head by way of greeting. He looked exceptionally handsome in a pair of tight black jeans and black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Ready for what?” you asked, taking off your glasses and rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“Gino’s,” he said, as if that would clear it up. At your blank look, he prompted: “Vix’s first mission is tomorrow. We’re all going down to Gino’s for drinks. Come on, Pocket. I told you about this days ago.”

You scoffed at him. “You most certainly did not. I would have remembered because I would have laughed at you and said ‘hard pass.’”

Bucky rubbed his eyes. “Okay, maybe it slipped my mind, and I’m sorry for that, but you should have known. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” you asked him, surprised to find that the anger you had expected to feel, that you should have felt, just wasn’t coming. Instead, you were just sad. “There’s no tradition.”

“What are you talking about? We all went before my first mission.”

You closed your laptop and put it down on the coffee table before standing up to face him with a sigh. “Buck, that was something I did, just for you, because I wanted to. Because you were my best friend. I wanted you to have a night of fun before you went out, because I didn’t know what sort of shit you were going to see, or have to do, on that mission. I wanted to give you something good to hold on to.”

Bucky’s face softened at your words and he embraced you, holding you close. “God,” he said, rubbing his nose into your hair, “I had no idea. I’m the fucking luckiest man alive, you know that? To have a girl as special as you care so much about me. You’re more than I deserve, doll.”

A tiny voice in the back of your mind couldn’t help but think Maybe I am. You crushed the thought as soon as it came. You loved him, you truly did. He just… frustrated you a lot recently. Jade’s probationary period was going to be over soon, and you were hopeful that she wouldn’t get the votes to stay in. You knew that, despite the initial warm reception she’d received, she’d ended up rubbing almost everyone the wrong way with her attitude. You’d even heard Sam and Clint complaining about Jade refusing to participate when it was her turn for training room clean-up because ‘shouldn’t Stark have people for that?’.

It seemed like everyone was finally seeing what kind of person she really was. Well, everyone except for Bucky, anyway.

“So,” he said after a moment, “you gonna come?”

You thought about it for a second. A part of you was completely against the idea, not wanting the gesture you’d made for Bucky all those months ago to be tainted knowing he was making it now for her, but the prevailing part of you wasn’t about to offer Jade the opportunity of a night of drinking with Bucky, outside of your presence, on a silver platter. It concerned you that you were more motivated by thwarting any designs Jade might have than you were with spending time with your boyfriend, though. You tried to push your petty thoughts aside.

“Yeah,” you said, looking up into his eyes and allowing yourself to fall into them. God, they were beautiful. He was beautiful, inside and out. You needed to keep reminding yourself of that, of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place, and there were so, so many. “How much time do I have?” you asked.

Bucky pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. “About fifteen minutes,” he said.

“Fifteen minutes!” you shrieked, pulling away from him and heading over to your vanity. “Jesus, Buck! Give a girl some warning! It’s gonna take me twice that long just to do my hair and makeup!” You began pulling out all the accouterments you were going to need to prepare yourself.

Bucky came to stand behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist as he looked at you in the mirror. “You don’t need any of that stuff, doll,” he said, kissing your cheek. “You’re already going to be the sexiest girl there, but I’m not gonna complain about sitting around if you want to get even sexier.”

You smiled at Bucky through the mirror, and it felt like the first genuine smile you’d given him in ages. “That’s sweet of you, baby,” you said as you started putting on your moisturizer, “but I don’t want to make you late on my account.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you for any trace of annoyance or anger in your words. Not finding any, he asked: “Are you sure, sweets? I don’t mind waiting for you.”

You nodded, moving on to fill in your eyebrows. “It’s fine, Buck. Go. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I’m ready.”

He lingered for several long moments, watching as you continued your makeup routine. You noticed him staring and paused contouring to turn to him. “What?” you asked with a small smile, expecting him to make some kind of comment about modern girls and all their makeup.

“Nothing,” he said, though there was a hint of sadness in his gaze. “You just seem… different, that’s all.”

You laughed. “You’ve seen me contour my face plenty of times, Buck. I swear, it’ll look great once I blend it out.”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head, “that’s not what I meant. You just seem… nevermind, it’s nothing.”

Shit. He could feel the distance you’d been building between the two of you. You didn’t want it to be there; you truly didn’t. You simply didn’t know how else to protect yourself. Closing yourself off had been your tried and true defense mechanism since you were eleven years old.

Making a vow to yourself to get back to where you once were, back to him, you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hey,” you said, kissing him softly, “I love you. So much.” You needed to reassure him, to reassure both of you, of the truth of it.

“Love you, too, sweets,” he said warmly, not letting go of you. You let him hold you, relishing in the feel of him in a way you hadn’t let yourself experience in a bit. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone, indicating he had a text. You pulled away and turned back to the mirror.

“What’s Jade need now?” you asked, feeling the wall building itself back up. There was no anger in your voice, just a kind of resigned acceptance. You glanced up from blending your contour as Bucky checked the screen, a look of annoyance crossing his face as he read her text.

“She wants to know if I can drive her to Gino’s on my bike,” he said. The way he looked back at you in the mirror almost made you feel ill, as though he were preparing for you to blow up at him. You felt the walls go higher around your heart.

“Well, you better head out then,” you said, focusing on your makeup. “Don’t want her being late for her own party.”

Bucky opened his mouth and then closed it again, as though not sure how to respond to you. Eventually, he said “It’s fine. Tony’s providing cars; she can hitch a ride with everyone else.”

“And deprive her the opportunity to wrap her arms around you?” you laughed. “Come on, Buck, you’re supposed to be giving her a night of good memories here. Don’t disappoint the girl.”

His brow furrowed at your words. In a single step, he was beside you, taking the contouring brush from your hand and turning your shoulders so you were facing him. “Pocket,” he said, licking his lips, “are we… are we okay?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course,” you said, taking the brush back from him and moving on to your bronzer and blush. “Why wouldn’t we be okay?”

“You’re just… you seem to be awfully relaxed about the idea of her being on the back of my bike.”

You arched a brow and looked over at him. “Should I not be?” you asked. “Is there a reason for me to be bothered by it?”

Bucky spluttered. “No! Of course not! It’s just…”

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is, Bucky,” you said, getting back to work on your face. His phone buzzed again. “You better go. Sounds like your ‘work wife’ is getting impatient.”

“My work wife? Doll, I don’t… I can’t…” he stammered, at a loss for words.

“Buck,” you said, patting his arm before applying your lip gloss, “it’s fine. Go give Jade a ride. I don’t care, honestly.”

“You… don’t care?” he asked slowly.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ with your lips. “I really don’t.”

Bucky muttered his goodbyes, promising to see you at the party. As soon as he closed the door behind him, you closed your eyes, gripping the backrest of your vanity chair until your knuckles were white, your fingernails digging crescents into the palms of your hands.

You might have been able to lie to Bucky, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. You did care. You still cared very, very much.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

180 notes · View notes

bitchinbarzal · 1 year ago

Text

What you left behind | A Fantilli

based on this ask

You’d heard them talking about you at the Hobey award ceremony.

“I feel bad acting like everything’s ok! Y/N has no idea”

“Adam should’ve told her before she flew all the way out here”

“I can’t believe he’s breaking up with her”

Your heart dropped and you walked away before you heard anymore. You sat throughout the whole ceremony with a wary smile.

By the end of it you had excused yourself on account of not feeling well. You were so ill and knew fine well why but now this was making you feel worse.

When Adam did return to your hotel room that night, bustling around while you faced the wall in the darkness you were deciding if you wanted to address the situation or not.

It wasn’t until he got into bed that you spoke

“I know you want to break up with me”

Adam sighed and turned on the bedside light “Babe it’s not you-“

“Do not say it’s not you, it’s me! God, Adam I thought we were better than this!”

“I don’t want to hold you down while I’m away!”

You were now stood up from the bed “You want to go to Columbus! It’s like four hours from Ann Arbor!”

He groans “I could end up literally anywhere and I don’t, I don’t want to drag this relationship with me while I’m starting off in the NHL!”

You gasp lowly “You think this relationship is a drag? Adam there’s something-“

You were crying now, getting yourself upset thinking about how your entire world was crumbling around you.

“Listen let’s just call it ok? You’re clearly getting upset and-“

You laugh ironically “I am getting upset because my boyfriend is breaking up with me and I’m trying to tell him I’m p-“

“I get it, you’re pissed but I think this is for the best I’m going to stay in Luca’s room for the night” Adam finishes, almost infuriating you as he picks up his hoodie and phone before kissing your forehead and leaving the room.

When the door clicked shut you sat down on the bed and let out a shaky breath and placed your hand over your belly “It’s just me and you kid, eh?”

You were packed up and gone before Adam got back to the room the next morning, leaving him feeling somewhat disappointed.

He had tried to call but you’d blocked his number. Eventually he gave in and stop trying to contact you to apologize for how it all went down.

You on the other hand were too busy in the summer break preparing for the baby’s arrival in november.

It felt weird being home all summer. Typically you’d be spending your time split between vacations, lake houses and this year was supposed to be spent by Adam’s side as he was drafted.

Now you were knee deep in baby sleep suits, stuffed animals and diapers all needing to be organized into boxes.

The summer was hard, you’d been contemplating not going back to college now you would ultimately be single parenting and how difficult that was going to be.

It had taken a lot of thinking but you knew you couldn’t give up on school, not now you were all your daughter had.

The new school year looked a lot different. You’d moved out of dorms with your best friend and into your own apartment, you’d dropped out of your position as social admin of the hockey and lacrosse teams and even changed some of your classes to better align with better paid positions post graduate.

It only took the boys a day to notice your absence from the team.

“Where’s y/n? There’s no way she left us because Adam broke up with her!” Dylan whined as the team got changed after their first practice.

Luca just shrugged “I haven’t seen her, I don’t even know if she’s back this year”

“She wasn’t in our sports management class this morning” Mark adds “And her best friend has a new roommate”

Luca then became a little concerned. He’d gone from seeing you all day, everyday to not even knowing where you were.

That was until that evening at Tony’s, the pizza place you, Adam and Luca would go every Tuesday. It seemed as though you guys were keeping to the tradition as you both stood in line to order your pizza.

“Y/N?” You froze hearing his voice, slowly turning around with a coy smile

“Hey Luca” You reply sweetly, not missing how his eyes were now glued on your now seven month pregnant belly.

“Hey so-“

“You’re pregnant?”

You tut “Yeah it looks like it” you joke “so don’t judge when I tank a whole pizza alone I’m technically eating for two”

He softly laughs before he asks “Is it Adam’s?”

You can’t hide it and you know it so you nod “Yeah, it is”

You expect Luca to yell at you but he doesn’t. Instead he grumbles “and you didn’t tell him?!”

His anger takes you back a little and you sigh sadly “I tried Luca”

“Not very hard!”

The tears started the gather in your eyes as you thought back to that night you and Adam broke up and you tried to tell him about your little baby girl.

“Luca You don’t know anything ok? I tried to tell him but he was too busy breaking up with me! You know what Lu, pretend this interaction never happened!” You scoffed, taking off out of the restaurant.

Only five minutes after you got in your apartment the doorbell rang and you waddled to the front door, very unamused and hungry.

On the other side of the door stood Luca holding your order from Tony’s.

“I’ve got pizza?” He smiled and you gestured him in.

The two of you ate the pizza and garlic knots in silence until Luca asked

“Is It a boy or girl?”

You wiped your hands with a napkin before you said “A little girl”

He smiles “and you’re due?”

“November, middle of November”

He nods before he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand “I’m really sorry you’ve done this alone, but I’m sure Adam would want to know he has a daughter”

You retracted your hand from his and scoffed “He didn’t want to be ‘held down’ Luca! His words! So no, I’m not telling him because when I tried, he shut me down so this is his loss!”

Luca wanted to fight you, to stick up for his little brother but he knew better so he gave in. He knew which battle he wanted to pick

“Can I… can I be in her life? She is my niece after all I want to be in her life”

You softened “Of course you can Luca, you can be as involved with her as you want as long as you don’t tell your brother”

Luca reluctantly agrees and so he begins a part in this secret.

Over the following weeks he spent nights over at your house, helped you set up the nursery and was helping you study in your new classes.

He’d slowly stopped speaking to Adam as the secret was getting harder to keep and Adam had noticed.

When Luca didn’t go to Columbus with the rest of his family for Adam’s birthday, Adam knew something was wrong.

So when I’m November the blue jackets played Detroit, Adam, Nick and Kent took the trip to Ann Arbor to watch their old team play.

You wouldn’t have gone to the game that night had you known he would be there but it was too late. You saw him in the crowd. You’d been sitting in a seat, wearing Luca’s jersey so nobody else on the team could see your bump when you spotted Kent closely followed by Adam.

After that you made a mad dash out of Yost, but not before Adam saw you.

He watched you leave, watched you walk out and never said a thing. He had conflicted feelings about seeing you again. He knew it was a possibility but he didn’t know for sure not after his friends told him you’d basically distanced yourself so far from the team, what caught his eye though was his brothers name and number on the back of your jersey.

After the game Adam found his brother outside the locker room

Luca looked surprised to see him, looking around cautiously for someone else by the looks of it “Adam, what’re you doing here?”

“Dropping by to see the team, what’s wrong? You seem on edge? Looking for someone?” Adam wasn’t sly with his questions.

“No I just-“

“Not my ex girlfriend? Not Y/N? Who left by the way”

Luca looked panicked “you saw her?!”

“Yeah i saw her leaving, wearing your jersey! Dude are you fucking y/n? How could-“

Luca scoffs “I’m not fucking her!”

“Well what’s going on? You haven’t come to visit, we hardly talk, she’s walking around here in your jersey and you seem really agitated about her right now so cmon dude spill it! I’d rather you just told me straight but I’m gonna be mad you know I’m still in love with her!!”

Before Luca can even defend himself and you, his phone starts ringing. It’s you.

As soon as he picks up the phone he can hear you crying “what’s going on? Talk me y/n”

That peaks Adam’s interest.

“I fell Luca! I fell and I need to go to the hospital I’m bleeding-“

“I’m coming, I’m coming just hang in there you guys are gonna be ok is the ambulance there? Ok just go and I’ll meet you at the hospital”

Adam is traipsing behind him still demanding answers when Luca shouts “Just get in the car Adam! I don’t have time to deal with you right now”

Adam can feel Luca’s stress and it’s confusing him, a lot.

When they arrive at the hospital he finally asks “Why are we here? What is going on? Who’s hurt?”

Luca sighs, pinching his nose and just praying you’ll understand why he did it

“Y/N is pregnant” he states as if it was the simplest thing while Adam’s entire world just exploded.

He was still in love with you and you were having a baby.

“Is It yours?” Adam asked “Because if it is I’m gonna let you call mom before I fucking kill-“

Luca holds his hand up to his little brother “The baby is yours”

Adam is going through every emotion possible at the moment, stuttering out “Why didn’t you tell me? She didn’t-“

“She tried Adam, the day you broke up with her”

He feels horrible, he feels heartbroken.

“And Why are we at the hospital? Do we need to go in? Is she ok?”

“She said there’s been bleeding, that she fell after the game. That could be bad Adam so just don’t go in there guns blazing when she could have lost her baby”

Adam’s heart breaks even further for his baby; who’s existence he’s only known of for a minute who might now be dead.

The brothers make their way up to the ward and ask for you to which the nurse smiles sympathetically “It’s family only, sorry boys”

Luca hurries “He’s the babies dad, she’s pregnant-“

“Actually, miss y/l/n had a turn in the ambulance after she was picked up by paramedics and she is no longer pregnant” Adam and Luca both gasped lowly, heartbroken when the nurse continued “She delivered her babygirl in the ambulance on route here. Congratulations dad, head on down its room 103”

The two shared glances before Luca patted his little brother on the back “You’re a dad, man!”

“I’m a dad…” he repeats, almost in disbelief.

When Adam got to your room and walked in you were laying in the hospital bed holding your little girl in your arms mumbling something to her. When you looked up and saw Adam the smile on your face dropped

“What’re you-“

“Is she ok? Are you ok?” He interrupted, walking over to you both.

You looked surprised “Luca told you?”

He nods “the cliff notes, we were in a rush”

You nodded understandingly “She’s perfect, all eight pounds of perfection”

You watch Adam step closer and closer to you both when you say “Adam, do you want to hold her?”

He nods, sitting down in the chair next to your bed and taking her into his arms. You watch them as Adam whispers sweet words to her.

“Hi babygirl, I’m your daddy”

When he finally puts her in her bassinet, Adam turns to you “I’m so sorry you went through this all alone, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you that night and I’m sorry I just abandoned us… I regret it everyday”

You smile softly “Do you miss me?” It was a lighthearted jab but Adam grabs your hands, seriously and says “So much, everyday I’ve thought about what an idiot I was to let you go. The love of my life”

“Adam you really broke my heart, I’m not sure how I would’ve survived if it wasn’t for her” you say gesturing to the baby asleep next to you.

He squeezes your hands “I know and I can only apologise and beg you to understand I acted on stupid judgement. We could always make long distance work and you have never held me down ever, you make me a better person y/n, I guess now you both do”

Eventually around eleven your nurse manages to sneak Luca into your room. He fully expected you two at each others throats when he entered but instead he found you both sitting on your bed holding your daughter in your hands just adoring her.

“Hey guys, she’s beautiful y/n congratulations”

You smile “thanks uncle Lu”

“So what’s princess called?”

Adam looks at you to tell him and you take pleasure when you say “This is Lucia, her name is inspired by our role model. Both of us”

Luca crouches down by Lucia’s sleeping body and brushes his thumb over her cheek “Hi Lu, I’m your uncle Luca. I love You so much already and I don’t even know you yet”

Your head absentmindedly rested on Adams’s shoulder and he kissed the crown of your head and mumbled “My girls, my whole world”

#adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #umich x reader #umich imagine

588 notes · View notes

ayrtonswnna · 3 months ago

Text

ʚïɞ "such a savior" LH44

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lewis hamilton x original female oc.

summary: in witch lilith is mid-breakdown with the worst man around but luckily, she has her fiancée and little sister.

warnings: a bitch of a dad, bad parenting, age gap (character is 24 although it isn't mentioned), mentions of psychological and physical abuse, description of needles and medical procedures without any proper knowledge. just pure sad angst and hurt but i am planning to write a part 2 out of this.

"Hey, Lewis. I didn't mean to bother you, and I know you're working, but... are you too busy now? Like... very, very, very busy?"

The Mercedes driver took a breath, standing in front of the gym mirror. He rested his spare hand on his waist and furrowed his eyebrows. A call from his fourteen-year-old sister-in-law was never expected and always a worry, but especially today, it was a sign to leave work.

"What happened, Sab? I'm heading home, don't worry. Is everything okay with Lili?"

He knew it wasn’t. He knew getting her dad to visit them in Monaco was a terrible idea, and he saw the hints his girlfriend gave. Her childhood was tough because of that man, and he knew it would be hard for Lilith, from the way she wanted to make sure the whole house was clean, to the way she wanted to take down all the glass decorations.

"Hum... Ye-yeah, I called the doctor you told me to, she's okay. Just come home, alright? She wants you here."

Damn, he hated that man. But Lili wanted to prove to her family that she was okay, that she and her soon-to-be husband had a good life, and Lewis respected that. Well, now he’s speeding home like there’s a Red Bull car right behind him.

"I'm on my way, Sab. Is she hurt? Did something happen? I really need to know, is your dad around?"

Lewis heard a deep breath as the phone rested on the passenger seat. He regretted giving in to this idea; this visit should have been a dinner thing with a quick goodnight. Tony, the father-in-law, was a monster with his words and even worse with his hands.

"They had a little fight, and I think something fell in the kitchen. You know she hates blood, so... yes. But she won’t let the doctor give her medicine, and Dad is mad, so... I’m kind of lost. I called you because of that."

"You did the right thing, bub. I’m nearby, okay? Do you mind staying on the phone with me?"

"No, not at all. That’s great, actually. Do you want me to... to talk to Dad?"

"No! No need to. I’m really close, I just want you to stay with me in case something happens and we need to be quick, don’t worry. I like talking to you."

Lili's sister and Lewis had a nice bond. Lewis, being great with kids and a sympathetic softie with everyone, quickly won her over. He knew things weren’t easy for her either. Maybe too young to understand, the couple had only been able to offer a little support to the young girl since her sister left home two years ago.

With a few more words and minutes, the driver arrived home, climbing up the stairs and feeling the thick, heavy air as soon as he stepped inside, almost as if he could touch the tension.

"No! No, I don’t need that! I don’t, I promise I don’t! Tell Lewis to come over! He knows I don’t need any of that!"

Her sobs cut through her words and then right through the man's chest, a striking pain as he approached the living room and hung up the phone, pocketing the device as he entered.

Lili had her face covered in tears, a desperate look in her eyes as her father held both of her arms down on the bed. In the last few seconds before Lewis could touch the man’s shoulder and pull him away with little to no effort, the man stumbled backward, surprised by the sudden intervention but not resisting.

"Lew! Hey, Lew. Hey. You’re home." she let out a high sigh, touching her fiancé’s face as if she just wanted to make sure he was real, that there was a hint of peace. "Hey, hey. Can you... can you tell the doctor I’m okay? I don’t... I don’t need any medicine, I’m just fine."

She kept insisting on that. She could run a mile screaming she was fine because it was almost automatic, what she had said throughout her whole life. Never wanting to be a bother, never meaning harm, Lili could take a beating and hide all the hurt from the one who caused it. She’s just like that.

Now there’s blood trickling from the side of her forehead, near her scalp and down her ear. God, how he wants to ask what happened.

"Baby, you’re bleeding," he said softly, very careful with his tone. "Can you take a breath for me? A big, deep one. Just breathe, okay? I know you’re fine."

Lewis had learned how to calm his girl down over the years. She just needed to feel safe and in control, two things she never had in life. And that made him really mad about the other man in the room, but he was mature enough to slow down and focus on Lili. She needed to calm down and let the medication take effect.

"Baby, I don’t... don’t need anything, I promise you I don’t. Tell her to go away."

And injectables were another part of the problem. Her dad was an addict, she saw some ugly stuff, and now she was too terrified to go near a needle. Lewis knew that.

"It’s just some painkillers, Lili. I promise. You have to take them to feel better, and in the meantime, we’ll treat your injury, okay? We’ll fix everything." He softly touched the bleeding skin, suddenly angry at how he could see she wanted to avoid his approach but would never show it. "Okay? You can hold onto me if you want to."

"No. No. I don’t want to. I really don’t. I don’t want to, I promise I don’t need anything! I can handle myself, and if I can’t... you’ll do it! You won’t hurt too much. Do it. If you have to, do it. But don’t let them put anything in me."

Then things got out of control. Lili didn’t notice the doctor had managed to put the heart monitor on her finger, and she only realized it when the beeps became too fast. Something sticky on her back, a harsh pain in her chest, and her body unable to stay still.

"She’s panicking, Sir Hamilton. I’ll proceed with the medication, okay? She’s collapsing."

"No! Lew! No, NO! You know what you have to do! I can calm down! I can, I don’t need to do any of this! I just need to... I just need to be put in place! I promise I won’t even cry."

Lili clung to his shirt like her life depended on it, and Lewis wondered how the man behind them might be feeling. That’s it, his daughter was on the verge of collapsing and asking to be hit —that’s how she learned life should be, and it was no surprise to Lewis.

Not the first time she expected him to snap.

"I recommend you hold her, sir. It won’t be easy, but it won’t hurt, and she’ll calm down right away. It’s for the best."

"NO! Lewis. Lew, please! Please. Just do it, I’ll get better. Don’t let them—"

"Hey, Lili. Baby, look at me." He tried to calm down, cupping her face in his hands and glancing quickly at the doctor, asking her to wait. "I will never hurt you, ever. I won’t raise a hand against you. I promise. I won’t ever do it, no matter what. I am so sorry for this."

She thought it was an apology for what he just said, but it took a few seconds until she was trapped in his arms, struggling to break free, breath stuck, and air leaving without any intention of returning. A few more fighting seconds until a sharp pain in her arm. Confusion, then nothing.

"It’s for the best, baby. Okay? You’ll get better." His voice was almost a whisper, cracking and low. "Shhhh.. I’ll be right here, okay? I’ll be here."

Her body gave up fighting right away. Lewis only had to adjust her head a little, positioning her better, fixing her hair and her shirt immediately.

"Fuck," he murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned back, forcing the tears to stay in his eyes.

"I know it’s hard," the doctor said. "But you did the right thing. Her heart was too fast, and she’s still losing blood. Can you lay her down, please? I’ll take care of her."

"Please, be careful. Please," he kept his voice low, holding his girl with all the care in the world as he laid her back, head on the pillow and her hair out of the way.

That’s a big bruise; it’s turning darker than her skin.

"It’s okay. She’s okay; it’s just a bruise. She’s just off mentally."

Lewis stood up, kissed his girl on the head, and fixed his shirt by the shoulders, eyes searching for Sab, who he hadn’t spoken to since he hung up the call.

"Hey, bug. Thank you for calling, okay? Lili is fine now, thanks to you." He ruffled the little girl’s hair, who was nervously waiting by the door.

"It’s okay."

"Yeah. You’re staying the night, alright? Go to your room and order something for us to eat. Vegan, don’t forget."

Sabrina smiles softly and agrees, turning around to head down the hallway. Yeah, now things are getting serious.

"You got Lilith, and now you're going after Sabrina? Very fun, Sir Lewis Hamilton."

"No reason to laugh." the Sir Lewis Hamilton approached his father-in-law. "That's enough of you. It's completely enough. Get your fucking things and leave my house. Leave our lives, leave your children alone. They don't need you."

"Shut the fuck up, little man. What the fuck do you know about what my children need?"

"I know how to call the cops. I know how you made your way into Lili's mind and made her think she deserves to be hurt. What is that on her head, huh? Or do you think I'm just as clueless as Sab? Leave, now."

"This is not over," the old man grins. "I'll be back to get Sabrina and check on Lili."

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 #f1 angst #oc #lewis hamilton x oc #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 angst

71 notes · View notes

widowmaxff · 10 months ago

Note

I’ve been having some bad days, could you write something where Y/N is having a rough week and pretends she’s fine except Wanda knows her daughter and comforts her?

I just love the way you write Wanda as a mother and that she just always knows

overwhelmed

pairings: mom!wanda maximoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst, reader crying, depressed reader — i think that's all!

a/n: tysm for your request love and im so sorry for your bad days, i really hope things get better for you and if you need someone to talk you can dm me, okay? <33

Interacting with any other human being was the last thing you wanted to do today. Saying that you had a bad week was an understatement, all the bad things that could happen to you happened. And not just things around you, but also your mind didn't stop for a second. You felt so overwhelmed that anyone could see on your face how much that week was hurting you.

"This can't be happening right now." You mumble as you feel the raindrops start to fall on your head. There was still more than half the way until you arrived at the Compound, you didn't have an umbrella, much less a coat to protect yourself from the cold that would come. No one could come and get you since everyone was busy and you didn't want to disturb your mother, she had enough problems to deal with yours.

You were coming home from school after another stressful day. You've spent the last few weeks studying for an incredibly difficult test, especially in a subject you had difficulty with, and seeing that big red note made your urge to cry even more. You studied so much that you thought it was impossible for that to happen. So many nights without having slept and so many energy drinks wasted for nothing.

You were absolutely soaked when you stepped into the Compound. Your sneakers made a funny noise when you stepped on them, but the only thing you wanted to do now was take them off your feet and throw them at the person closest to you, shouting in their face. "You're going to clean this up, Little Maximoff." Tony's annoying voice says, obviously joking, but still your head hurt just hearing that you had to do something that day. Your jaw tightens and you close your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.

"I know, Tony." You ramble, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible. You walk past him to head towards your room, feeling your eyes burn from having something else on your list of things that made your week worse than it already was.

On normal days the first thing you would do was go look for your mother in her office, but the last thing you wanted to do that day was worry her, because you knew that the moment she laid eyes on you she would know that something was wrong. And filling her with your problems would make you feel guilty for a long time, you hated making people feel sorry for you and looking like you were a baby. You just needed to calm down, didn't you?

"Fuck!" You scream when you see all your notebooks soaked, especially your sketchbook, which you spent hours and hours drawing. You drop your things on the floor and run your hands through your hair, taking a deep breath. You wished your mother was there now, she would know what to do and help you with whatever you needed to calm down, but you put that idea out of your head before you ran towards her arms.

You enter the bathroom connected to your room and take off your clothes before you catch a cold. The hot water from the shower makes your muscles finally relax after the terrible days you prayed would end. In a few seconds you no longer knew what water was or what the tears on your face were. All those things that happened in your week came together into one, and you started to feel like you were on that empty, dark hole that took you a long time to get out of. You thought that maybe the problem was you, that maybe you deserved all those bad things, from the smallest to the ones that made you cry and scream like that moment.

You didn't hear the knock on your door because your bad thoughts were so loud that it was almost impossible to even hear the shower water hitting the floor. But when Wanda entered her room after hearing no response, she felt like something was wrong at the moment. She looks at your completely wet things lying on the floor and frowns. You told your mom you didn't need a ride home from school, but apparently, you did.

"Honey, is everything okay?" When she heard the shower turning off after long minutes, she knocked on the bathroom door just to let you know she was there and see if everything was okay. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." You say in a low voice, taking a deep breath. You knew that the moment you left the bathroom, your mother would know that your bad thoughts came back again, but you also knew that she wouldn't pressure you to say anything.

You close the bathroom door quietly, finally looking into Wanda's green eyes and seeing the worry through them. She held your backpack in her hands with her face confused at you, because she wouldn't think twice to get in the car and drive to you. "I was almost here at the Compound and the rain caught me." You chuckled, trying to hide your red eyes, your cheeks and the tip of your nose with the same color as your mother's hair.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks again, her face relaxed now. You put a fake smile on your face, but still with enormous affection for your mother.

"Yeah, just a little upset that my sketchbook got ruined, but it's okay." You don't completely lie. Yes, you were upset that your drawings would now have to go in the trash, but no, nothing was okay.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Wanda says approaching you. You just throw it away, muttering 'it's okay' but she wraps her arms around you, giving you a relaxing hug. Your mother leaves a long kiss on your head, making the urge to cry increase even more. You loved all the affectionate actions that your mother gave you, it made you feel so vulnerable and light. "Come on, let's get you something to eat, shall we?" You didn't like eating when you were feeling bad like that, you felt like you were going to throw up when you put anything in your stomach because of the anxiety, but you just agreed.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice when you arrived in the kitchen which, unfortunately, was made up of a few people. You felt so overwhelmed that being in the same environment as some people made you feel even worse. The small group of Avengers on your left irritated you. The loud noises they made. The conversations. The sound of people swallowing food. The tapping of Steve's shoe on the floor. Everything irritated you. From the small scratches on the counter to the farthest lamp that blinked every one minute and two seconds. Wanda noticed that. She noticed that you were itching to keep from freaking out. That you closed your eyes tightly trying to ignore your surroundings. That she needed to do something to help. She wanted to come to you and ask what intrigued you so much. What made you take deep breaths and crack your fingers every second was curious.

"Thank you, momma." She almost didn't hear you because of your low and hoarse voice. Wanda leaves a kiss on your head as she watches your foot bouncing up and down, eating the sandwich she made.

Wanda debated in her head what she could do to make you feel better. She knew she couldn't pressure you into saying anything, but she was so worried that she would do anything to see you well again. And even if it got to the point where she had to read your mind, she couldn't. You somehow managed to block your mother from reading your thoughts and seeing what was wrong.

You place your plate in the sink, taking a deep breath. Finally you would get away from people and that feeling of anxiety would finally leave you, that's what you thought. You thought that just a few hours of lying in bed doing nothing would solve your problems, but deep down, you knew that wasn't what would happen. And, now walking towards your room, not even your plan of closing yourself under the covers would be complete, as your mother followed you with the comfortable atmosphere that she always exuded.

You lie in your bed watching your mother calmly wait for your permission to lie down next to you. You nod to her with a smile on your face. Wanda puts her arms around your body, running her hand on your back, making your body relax. You loved these moments between the two of you, you realized how important you are to her and how loved you are. "You know you can always talk to me, don't you?" She murmurs, making you lean into her even more. Your face was in the crook of her neck, hiding how your lip trembled trying to hold back your crying. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

You finally let out a sob when Wanda murmurs those words that came out of her mouth so sweetly. Her grip around you tightens as she feels tears fall onto the skin of her neck, leaving a kiss on your head. The caress on your back never stopped, reassuring you that you were safe in your mother's arms. "It's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay." You hated crying out loud, but at that moment you couldn't control all those feelings that made your heart ache spilling across your face, and Wanda was there to remind you that it was okay to cry and feel that way. "I-I'm sorry."

"Honey... we never apologize because of our emotions, right? Never." Wanda pulls you to place you on her lap, making you lay your head on her chest. You start playing with the hem of your mother's shirt, sniffling as you try to think of words you could say to her. "Do you want to talk about it, детка?"

"It was just... a bad week." You murmur, snuggling even closer to Wanda, feeling her heartbeat in your ear, which made you calm down a little more. "I just- I'm just feeling so overwhelmed and... and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, baby... it's okay. We'll get through this, yeah? It's okay to feel this way and I'll help you with whatever you need, my love." She strokes your hair, making your body relax in her lap. You agree, feeling her comfortable words enter your ears and help you with the horrible thoughts. "You're so strong, honey. Remember you're not alone, okay?" You mumble something, agreeing with her. You never knew how Wanda could make you feel better with just a few words, maybe it was her magic? You never knew. But she would always be your best friend and the person who would always make you feel better again. "Thank you, momma."

You would never be able to explain how grateful you were to have your mother by your side, because there are so many people in the world who don't have that comfort, and just thinking about not having someone to help you through your episodes made you feel sick. Even if she didn't say it, you knew Wanda was afraid you'd go back to that time when the hole was deeper than it is now. You remember exactly how she cried with you when you vented to her about everything you were feeling, and how she helped you every step of the way again.

"You don't need to thank me, детка. I love you so much, okay? I will always be by your side, on whatever you need." And you knew she was telling the truth, because Wanda loves you so much. You will always be her little miracle and the most important thing in her life. She feels so proud of you, because she knows that you can get through this, that you are strong enough to get through all the challenges in your life. She believes in your ability to overcome these difficult times - because you can - and there will always be people to support and walk alongside you, because you'll never be alone.

235 notes · View notes

toournextadventure · 1 year ago

Text

movie night pt.v

Summary: Sam doesn't distrust you quite as much and Tara scares you. Guess that means it's time for them to meet the family.

Word Count: 6.4k Warnings: Excessive swearing, suggestive themes, Scream levels of violence/mentions of violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

“One more attack and I’m takin’ you to Mercy,” Aunt Sherry said as she finished cleaning the dried blood on your neck. “Conscious or not.”

“I understand,” you said quietly. You supposed after another 17 stitches, you couldn’t really argue with her.

“Your Ma never wanted this life for you,” she said, her hand resting on your shoulder.

You knew she meant well, but this conversation wasn’t helping. Clearly Ma never wanted this for you, she hadn’t even wanted it for herself and Pop. Trouble was always quick to follow your family, and you were more than adept at figuring out how to navigate it. This was a different obstacle, sure, but you were clever, you could make it work.

None of you had been taught how to keep others out of trouble, though.

“I’ll see you at Mass,” you said with a smile before hopping out of the ambulance for the second time in 24 hours.

Anika had already been rushed to the hospital. As far as you knew, they were confident she would pull through. Damn, she was one tough sonofabitch. You would need to make sure you sent flowers or chocolates or something. What would she even like? Maybe you should ask Mindy.

“Who knows where you live?” Sam asked once you shuffled your way to the group. All these Ghostface attacks were giving you major deja vu.

“No one,” you said when you stopped beside Tony. “Did you tell anyone?”

“Course not,” he scoffed, “I know the family rules.”

“Well he found out somehow,” Chad said.

“Well it wasn’t from us, smart guy,” Tony said defensively. “We don’t tell nobody where we live.”

“Only ones who know are Garret and the lot of you,” you said. “And I only called Tara.”

“And where is Garret?” Mindy asked as she held her now-bandaged arm.

“His dad’s house up in the Hamptons,” you said with a shrug. “Not gettin’ back till next weekend.”

“And you’re sure he’s up there?” Tara asked.

“Yes I’m sure, now quit with the interrogation,” you huffed. “Got enough of a headache as it is.”

Tara didn’t say anything but reached down and grabbed your hand, slotting her fingers between yours. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It was starting to become abundantly clear why she had kept her distance. Was this going to happen to anyone that got close to the Woodsboro gang? Because that was enough to have anyone on edge.

“So what now?” Tara asked.

“Chad and I are going to the hospital with Anika,” Mindy said softly, her eyes hazy.

“Quinn is already being escorted to the police station,” Sam said.

A phone rang.

Everyone’s eyes darted to Tony, who was already digging in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and showed you the screen, and you gulped. Oh god, this was so bad. You couldn’t do this again, you were barely holding it together as it was.

“Is it him?” Tara asked.

“Worse,” Tony said as he handed you the phone.

You watched it ring two more times before closing your eyes and answering it. The moment you held it up to your ear, you heard the static on the other end. It didn’t matter how tough you were, you weren’t prepared. Hell, nothing could have prepared you for it.

“Hey, Ma,” you said in the sweetest voice you could muster.

“If the two ‘a youse don’t get your sorry asses over here in the next 20 minutes, I’m chainin’ your ankles and throwin’ ya in the Hudson.”

“Just calm down-”

“-don’t you dare tell me to calm down, you don’t even call me to tell me about this bastard?”

You sighed. “No I don’t because you start actin’ like a wise guy!”

“Get your asses over here, Y/N.”

“Ma-”

“-Now.”

You exhaled through your nose and looked over at Tony. He mouthed a “sorry” before he shrugged. Lot of good he was. Sam and Tara were still looking at you with a mix of concern and… were they laughing?

“Can we bring two visitors?” You finally asked.

There was a bit of silence.

“Only if you follow the rules.”

“We will,” you said.

“Then yes.” A beat of silence. “And hurry.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said. “We’ll see you soon-”

-the call hung up and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Well, that went well. On the other hand, you had been on the receiving end of worse calls from your Ma. This honestly wasn’t all that bad, at least she didn’t curse your bloodline. Well, not that time.

“You threw me under the bus,” you mumbled as you handed the phone back to Tony.

“I ain’t puttin’ up with her rage,” he said even as he slid the phone back into his back pocket.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“We’re goin’ somewhere safe,” you said. “Well. Safe for you.”

“She’s gonna kill ya,” Tony mumbled.

“Shut up, I know,” you mumbled back as you placed your hand on Tara’s lower back and started guiding her down the streets.

“Shouldn’t you make sure the police don’t need anything?” Tara asked, looking back at your crime-scene of an apartment building.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “they let this happen, they can do it on their own.”

You all bid goodbye to Chad and Mindy before everyone went silent as you and Tony led them through the streets of New York. It was late, the lights were blinding, and the grating sounds of sirens faded into the usual chaos. There was something comforting about it; you didn’t think you’d ever be able to live somewhere that was quiet. How Tara had managed to live in Woodsboro forever was beyond you.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t keeping an eye out for suspicious characters. Namely a certain motherfucker who had quickly moved to the top of your shit list. Oh if he just gave you the chance, you were going to make him pay. No way on God’s green earth were you going to let him get away with any of this bullshit.

“Where exactly are we going?” Sam asked when you took them into an unassuming bakery in the Bronx.

“Can’t tell you,” Tony said.

You made sure to wave at Chris when you walked by the counter and guided everyone through a back door. It was a bit suspicious, you wouldn’t lie. Come to think of it, you didn’t think your family had invited anyone over since… well, since Dicky had brought Carol over a few years ago, actually. Oh man, maybe you all needed to reconsider your rules.

“It’s not as sketchy as it seems,” you said when you turned to look at them. “But I need you both to close your eyes.”

“Excuse me?” Tara asked.

“I said it’s not as sketchy as it seems,” you huffed.

“I’m not letting you lead us into some back room,” Sam said with crossed arms.

“If you don’t close your eyes, I can’t take you in,” you said. “It’s family rules.”

“Really?” Tara asked.

“Yes,” you said with a nod. They both looked at you in silence. “I know how it sounds.”

“If we close our eyes will you quit floundering?” Tara asked. “You’re going to catch flies.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Please just follow the rules, I’m tired of just standing here like a psycho.”

Sam and Tara shared a look, opposite of the one you shared with Tony. You both knew it was a bit sketchy, you knew. But when Ma and Pop made the rules, they made the rules. How were you supposed to argue? You weren’t, that’s how. Besides, if Ma and Pop found out you were breaking the rules they would have your heads.

“Fine,” Sam said with a sigh before closing her eyes. Tara quickly followed suit.

Both you and Tony shared a sigh before guiding the two girls through the back door. You each held on to them to make sure they didn’t trip over something as you took them down through a cellar and into one of the underground tunnels. Most people didn’t know about the tunnels under New York City, but your family had memorised them as if your lives depended on it.

Which, sometimes they did.

You took them through a dizzying amount of turns until you got to the door that led up to your house. If the family was smart, they would’ve locked it. And unfortunately for you, it was locked. Damn, you had hoped they would’ve lost their mind for a few seconds, you weren’t in the mood to dig around for the new location of the spare key.

The tip of your ear started to throb when you bent down to look for the key under the crate of bootleg whiskey.

“Found you,” you mumbled to yourself when your fingers brushed against the ridiculously oversized skeleton key.

“Can we open our eyes now?” Tara asked.

“No,” you said without hesitation. “We gotta get you inside first.”

“This is how people die in horror movies,” she continued while you shoved the skeleton key into the similarly oversized keyhole. “You know that, right?”

“Yes, Tara, I know that,” you bit back, finally pushing the door open. “Now come on.”

You held Tara’s hand tightly as you helped her up the stairs to your house. Well, it was your parents’ house, but that didn’t really matter. Only once you and Tony had brought both girls up to the living room did you finally pull them to a stop. The blood rushed in your ears. You hadn’t ever brought anyone home.

“Okay, you can open ‘em,” Tony said before you found your voice again.

Both girls opened their eyes slowly; you almost wanted to laugh at how wide they got when they looked around. Sure, maybe the brownstone was a bit extravagant. All the exploits of the past were on display; trophies, if you would. From the old paintings, to old newspaper clippings of heists, to the Tommy gun your great grandfather had owned before he passed down the mantle. You supposed it was a bit of a shock to the average person.

“Are you…” Sam trailed off before looking back at you. “Are you-”

“-yeah,” you said with a nod. “We’re Italian.”

“Y/N Vitale, you be nice to those girls.”

“Oh shit,” Tony said as the four of you turned around quickly.

Your eyes went wide - much like Sam’s and Tara’s - when you saw your Ma walking towards you with violence in her step. Oh, you were in trouble. You were in deep shit and no one was going to be able to save you. Maybe you should’ve just taken your chances with Ghostface; he scared you less than your mother.

“Hey Ma-”

-you were cut off by her harshly gripping your jaw and pulling you down until you were eye level with her. She twisted your head and looked at the injured ear you were sporting. Everyone flinched when your neck popped. What was one more injury in the long list of injuries you were starting to get?

She turned your head again until you could look her in the eyes. As much as you feared your Ma - respectfully, of course - you knew concern when you saw it. It never came off the way normal people did, but you knew it. It was in the crinkles around her eyes as they checked every inch of your skin.

“Are you ladies hurt?” Ma asked as she let go of your face. You rubbed your jaw as you straightened back up.

“No- um, no ma’am,” Sam stammered.

“We’re okay,” Tara followed.

“Good,” Ma said, turning to look at them and putting on her motherly smile that you certainly never got to see. “Then welcome home.”

“How come they get a welcome and I get a once-over?” You asked.

“Because they stayed safe and responsible and you didn’t,” Ma shot back. Tara snickered while Sam turned her head to hide a smile.

“As if that’s my fault,” you grumbled.

“And what did I say about tracking blood into my house?” Ma asked, raising her brows at you.

“I didn’t!” You argued. “But I’m sorry, they don’t let you grab clean clothes out of an active crime scene, Ma.”

“I’m talkin’ about your feet,” she said with a gesture down.

All five of you looked down at your feet, and you flinched when you saw the tracks you had left in the house. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, you hadn’t even noticed you hadn’t grabbed shoes. But as you lifted one of your feet and checked the bottom, all the pain you had ignored came rushing to the surface.

Glass, dirt, and who knew what else was embedded in the skin. When you looked back, it seemed you had been leaving bloody footprints for who knew how long. Part of you figured you hadn’t tracked them through the Bronx, but you had most definitely tracked them through the tunnel. Damn. Pop was going to make you clean it all up.

“I put some spare clothes in the bathroom,” Ma said. “So get your raggedy ass upstairs and clean up before dinner.”

“Yes ma’am,” you muttered as your shoulders fell.

You ignored Tara’s barely-concealed laughter as you pushed past her to head upstairs to your bathroom. Well, you supposed technically it wasn’t your bathroom anymore, it was Ma’s, but she could suck your dick. The nerve of that woman, to call you raggedy. You were the perfect gentleman, it wasn’t your fault some psycho had decided to target you.

Just as Ma had said, she had left a folded set of clothes on the bathroom counter for you. It looked a little too formal if you were being honest, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And you certainly couldn’t afford to be a chooser. Ma would have your head if she found out you had even thought about different clothes.

The stitches of your ever increasing wounds pulled tight, leaving a throbbing sensation around the jagged skin. Aunt Sherry had done a wonderful job, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. In the end, you grabbed a pair of hair scissors and just cut your shirt off. It was old, torn, and blood soaked; you could get a new one.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the shirt as you managed to wriggle out of your sweats. Not all of that blood had been yours. Some of it had been Mindy’s, and a lot of it had been Anika’s. Your friends’ blood was soaked into your shirt. Each breath you took felt laboured as you wallowed in the thought that the very thing that kept your friends alive was staining your shirt.

With a shake of your head, you put the thoughts aside. This wasn’t new, you had seen blood before, you were fine. One step at a time. Finish getting out of your clothes, start the shower, wash your feet. And the rest of the dried blood that was becoming itchy. Oh, Ma was gonna kill you for dirtying up her shower.

The water was steaming by the time you finally stepped in. You let out a hiss when it hit your skin, creating more than just a throb in your wounds. It stung, bad. But surely it would clean you right up, right? Sanitisation, yeah, that’s what it would be. You get clean and fight infection; two birds, one stone.

By the time you were down to your feet, you were sitting on the edge of the tub while the water fell on your back. Your hair dripped into your eyes and you were constantly trying to push it back so you could see. The pair of tweezers in your hands was slick from water and you just needed to get a few more pieces of glass out so you could finish up.

You weren’t looking at the door when you heard it open.

“I told your sorry ass I’d be out in a minute, this is delicate work,” you called out.

A small hand appeared in front of your face and, without lifting your head, you looked up to see Tara standing in front of you. She, too, had been given a spare set of clothing that looked a little too big. Whose shirt was she wearing anyway? Her hand never moved until you sighed and placed the tweezers on her palm.

“You’re shit at this,” she said as she knelt down and started looking for the few remaining pieces of glass.

“Don’t have to be good, just have to be effici- ouch.” She swatted your hand away when you went to stop her from hurting you again. “You’re so rough,” you grumbled.

“Don’t have to be gentle,” she said as she looked up at you, “just have to be efficient.”

“You’re so mean,” you whispered even as you shifted your position to ease a certain… uncomfortable feeling.

Maybe you liked when she was mean. Maybe you liked it a little too much. Oh god, your family was going to see how whipped you were for a girl you hadn’t even properly been on a date with. Bringing Tara to the house maybe wasn’t such a smart idea on your part.

“Do you have gauze?” She asked, setting the tweezers down in the sink so more blood than necessary wouldn’t get on the floor.

“Underneath the sink,” you said with a gesture of your head. “Got a whole first aid kit.”

You watched her as she got up and checked under the sink. It only took a moment, it was a giant metal kit, no one could miss it. In fact, when she brought it out it was almost bigger than she was. You bit the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at her. If your body wasn’t at her mercy, you wouldn’t have been so polite.

She quickly dug around and got to work finding everything she needed before getting started. Her hands moved expertly as she started cleaning and bandaging your feet. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve guessed she had been a nurse in a past life. Unfortunately you did know better, and the scar on her hand just reminded you of how she knew so much.

“I never said thank you,” she said after she finished wrapping your left foot.

“For what?” You asked as you leaned back to turn the water off; you weren’t going to need it anymore.

“For saving Mindy and Anika,” she continued.

She wasn’t looking up at you. Quite the contrary, it was almost like she was avoiding your eyes. Why would she thank you for such a thing? It wasn’t like you were going to leave them behind to die. You weren’t always the sharpest tool in the shed - Ma made sure to remind you of that every now and then - but you weren’t that selfish.

“You don’t gotta thank me for that,” you said softly.

“I just did,” she said as she finished wrapping your right foot. “You’re done.”

You placed your feet on the ground and stood up slowly, easing your feet back into holding your weight. It hurt, ached even, but at least they were clean. How you hadn’t noticed the injuries before Ma, you had no idea. But quite frankly, Tara did a phenomenal job of wrapping them securely.

“Hurry up and get dressed,” Tara ordered, and you looked up just in time to catch the towel she had thrown in your direction. “Your mom is torturing Sam by giving her a lecture on street safety.”

“You should’ve listened to it too,” you said, but you quickly started drying off. “You hippies can’t handle these streets.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled your pants up. It hurt your feet to be moving on them so much. “Notice your bunch weren’t even here for a few months before getting attacked.”

“And you know so much about street safety?” Tara asked. “The one who got shot at a protest?”

You hesitated. “Yeah, I do.”

You were facing the mirror as you started buttoning up your shirt, and you could see Tara staring at you with furrowed brows. Maybe you should’ve just kept your big trap shut. It wasn’t exactly the greatest time to be getting into backstory now, was it? No, it most certainly wasn’t.

“You didn’t get shot at a protest,” she said slowly. “Did you?”

You turned around as you finished tucking your shirt into your pants. “Sorry, doll,” you said with a smile, “only girlfriends get to know that information.” With a wink, you gently pushed past her and exited the bathroom.

“Oh you dick,” you heard her say even as she followed after you.

You waited at the bottom of the stairs before placing your hand on her lower back and guiding her through the brownstone to the dining room. Everyone’s obscenely loud voices reverberated off the brick walls. Seemed the whole family was invited for dinner. A little unusual considering it was a Thursday night, but given the circumstances it could be forgiven.

A wide variety of “hello”s deafened you when you and Tara walked into the dining room. Everyone was dressed well - the same dress shirt and pants as you, which was typical - and they had pulled out a few extra seats for Sam and Tara. Gale was sitting beside your Pop; she gave you a smile and a small wave, which you returned.

“Oy, Street Rat,” Mitch called, “be a good pup and show your girl to her seat.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, but nonetheless led Tara to one of the two empty seats next to each other.

Out of pure mercy, you let her sit between you and Sam so she wasn’t having to deal with any of the other family members. The others heckled you when you helped push her seat in. You could feel your cheeks heating up while you grumbled and plopped down in your own seat, refusing to look up at any of them.

“Quiet,” Pop said, and the room immediately fell silent. “Who’s gonna say grace?”

“Can’t be me,” Joel said with a shrug. “He clearly don’t listen cause Y/N is still here.”

“You really wanna be a wise guy tonight?” You asked. “Cause I still got a lot of pent up anger.”

“Enough,” Ma said quietly, but you all listened. “I’ll say grace.”

"Yes, Ma," everyone said in unison.

"Bow your heads," she said, and everyone slowly did as instructed.

You cheated a little bit. While Ma was saying grace, blessing the food and yours and the Carpenters' lives, you looked at Tara out of the corner of your eye. If you looked a little harder you almost thought you could see a flush on her cheeks. For what, you had no idea, but you made the split decision to reach over and take her hand.

She linked her fingers with yours right before Ma finished.

"Amen," each person said before all normal talk resumed.

You helped Tara and Sam get their food, making sure everyone behaved. They did, they all knew the family rules, but the Carpenters didn't and you knew the lot of you could be… a little chaotic. Eight kids, two parents, sometimes the spouses and nieces and nephews. Lucky for the girls, it was only the immediate family.

"Oy, show me the ear," Dicky said right as you tried to start eating.

"So you can point and laugh?" You asked. "No way."

"I just wanna see," he said.

"I got it," Alfie said around a mouthful of food.

The look on Tara's and Sam's faces was comical when Alfie reached across the table, gripped your jaw, and turned your head. You did your best to smile at the two of them to let them know it was normal, but they didn't seem to believe you. If anything, it almost made Tara look a little frustrated. Maybe even angry.

"That's it?" Dicky asked when you snapped at Alfie and he let you go. "All that hubbub for that?"

"What do you mean?" You asked. "I got a notch outta my ear, I was gonna get that part pierced."

"All he's sayin' is you took on Ghostface twice, and that's what you walk away with?" Joel butted in. "Pass the salt, wouldya?"

"It's more than you ever walked away with," Martha defended you. "Don't listen to a word he says."

"The two 'a youse walk away with any cool scars?" Mitch asked, turning to look at Sam and Tara.

You could see them squirm in their seats.

"Watch it-"

"-fuck off-"

"-none of your business." Martha, you, and Mercy all said at the same time.

You felt Tara squeeze your hand once.

“Hey Street Rat, you down to make a run for me?” Dicky asked.

You didn’t bother swallowing before you answered. “I’m kinda in the middle of somethin’ this week.”

“I didn’t mean this second, jackass.”

You glared at him and swiped your tongue over your bottom teeth. “Sure,” you finally said with a shrug, “just give me a week and I’ll be back in action.”

"So," Sam started, wiping her mouth off on the napkin before looking around the table. “What do you all do for a living?”

“Accounting,” every single one of you said at the same time. Pop squeezed the bridge of his eyes as you all looked at each other sheepishly.

“All of you?” Sam asked.

“Mercy’s a doctor,” Tony chimed in.

“Accounting’s a family business,” Dicky said with a gentle nod.

“Right,” Sam said with her own nod and a polite smile. Something told you she didn’t exactly believe him.

Conversation continued as normal, with everyone talking over each other. Thankfully, they all started asking Sam and Tara normal questions, and you could visibly see them start to relax. You wondered when the last time was that they had a family dinner. Not including Chad and Mindy; they were family, but they weren’t family. There was a bit of a difference.

“Ladies,” Pop said once Ma had brought out the cannoli. Everyone froze, only their eyes moving between him and the Carpenters. “It’s been a pleasure to have you, but there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The girls stiffened in their seats, and Tara squeezed your hand again. You tried to give Pop a look that said to calm down, but he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were trained on Sam and Tara, and you couldn’t blame him. Hell, you didn’t know when non-family had been over last. Hopefully he was going to behave.

“You might not understand the gravity of this statement, but Vitale blood has been spilled for you two,” he said as he leaned back in his chair, his hands folded in front of him on the table.

“Oh brother,” you whispered.

Tara looked at you and you shook your head lightly and rolled your eyes. This was going to be ridiculous.

“One of us,” everyone looked at you, “felt you were worth dyin’ for.” You sighed. “We don’t take that lightly.”

“We greatly appreciate it-”

“-we have a family rule,” he interrupted Sam. “If one of us voluntarily spills blood for someone, we all follow suit.” He leaned forward on the table and waited until both Sam and Tara were looking him in the eye. “We’ll put that Ghostface character at the bottom of the Hudson.”

“Tone it down a smidge,” you whispered and gestured down with your hand.

Pop opened his mouth and closed it once. “We’ll, uh, protect you with our lives.” You gestured again. “Welcome… to the family?”

“Better,” you whispered with a scrunch of your nose that was followed by a gentle smile.

“We really do appreciate it,” Tara said.

“It’s nice to know we have, um,” Sam inhaled deeply and looked around, “Italians on our side.”

“Atta girl,” Mercy said.

“You catch on quick,” Martha agreed.

Dinner finished soon after, and everyone went about collecting the dishes and cleaning. Martha, in all her pregnant glory, kept Sam and Tara at the table, talking their ears off. At one point, you took the still-full coffee cups from in front of them and heard her talking about… something. You weren’t entirely sure, you just knew the word “family” was being thrown around a lot.

Tara looked at you and mouthed “help me.” You just smiled, shook your head, and mouthed “no” in return. The glare she gave you… it was no question she and Sam were related, they both had killer eyes. Tara’s were particularly beautiful at that moment though, did she know that? They almost reminded you of a warm hazelnut-

“-You’d best keep movin’,” Martha said. She was watching you with a ridiculous smirk. “She’s got a look that could kill.”

“Would you like some tiramisu?” You asked. Tara’s eyes softened, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes please,” she said.

“I’ll go get it.”

“You’re whipped!” Dicky called from the kitchen before you could even stand up straight.

“Give it a few days, Dick,” Joel said as he leaned on the doorframe. “Tara’ll have ‘em on a leash.”

“Shut up,” you shot back as you pushed past them to get into the kitchen. “It’s called bein’ polite.” You carefully plated the tiramisu. “Somethin’ you clearly know nothin’ about.”

“Seems our little Street Rat’s turnin’ into a Guard Dog,” Mitch chimed in, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Your family really came out of the woodworks, they did.

“Next time Ghostface calls, I’m givin’ him your address,” you said as you walked back into the dining room and placed the plate down in front of Tara. And Sam, you had made her a plate too.

Maybe you were whipped.

“Do it,” Dicky said. “Matter ‘a fact, give him my phone number too, he and I need to have a talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t tolerate that shit on my turf.”

“That’s enough,” Pop said, and everyone quickly shut up. “Go home, the lot of ya.” He looked down at Sam and Tara. “We’ve got beds made up for the both of you.”

“Thank you,” they both said with polite smiles.

“Gale stayin’ tonight too?” You asked.

And just like that, she came in at the mention of her name. Speak of the devil.

“Yes I am,” she said with a smile. “I have something I want to show you three tomorrow when it’s day time.”

“What did you find?” Tara asked quickly.

“We’ll have more time tomorrow,” Gale answered. You watched as Tara slumped back in her seat in defeat.

Everyone finished cleaning up their stuff and started leaving the brownstone. You could see the gears turning in Tara’s head when they all left through the front door, but you shook your head at her. It wasn’t something she needed to know at the moment. It was late, dark, and everyone just needed to get some sleep. If she really wanted to know more later, you would tell her.

Probably.

“She gonna have you in a muzzle next time I see you?” Joel asked as he blocked the doorway.

“Keep movin’,” Tony said as he pushed Joel out. “Call me if ya need somethin’,” he said to you with a smile.

“You got it,” you answered. “Now get out, I’m exhausted.”

Mercy gave you a kiss on the cheek and Martha gave Sam and Tara hugs, but then everyone was gone. You were left with the Carpenters, Gale, and your parents. It was… disturbingly quiet, if you were being honest. You almost missed the chaos of having everyone over. Well, you would see them all at Mass, it would be fine.

“All of you get upstairs and get to bed,” Ma said with a gentle nod of her head. “It’s late and I know you all must be tired.”

“Come on, Sam,” Gale said with a gesture, “I’ll show you to your room.”

“Good night,” Sam said with a polite smile and wave. A chorus of “good nights” followed her as she similarly followed Gale upstairs.

“Tara sweetie, you can sleep in Y/N’s bed,” Ma said before looking at you. “I made you a pallet on your floor.”

“Thanks, Ma,” you said, leaning in to leave a kiss on her cheek. “Good night, you two.” You leaned over to give Pop a kiss on the cheek as well.

“Good night,” Tara said with her own small wave.

You placed your hand on Tara’s lower back as you gently pushed her in front of you up the stairs. Unfortunately for you, your room was right beside the two guest rooms that everyone else was staying in. Not that you necessarily had anything planned, but even if you did, you wouldn’t dare risk Sam or Gale hearing you.

Sometimes life was rather cruel.

“She left you some pyjamas on the bed,” you said once you showed Tara into your room. “Bathroom is down the hall, we’ve got spare toothbrushes in the top left drawer.”

“Thanks,” Tara said softly.

You watched as she grabbed the pyjamas and promptly exited the room, leaving you alone for the first time since your shower. And now that you were alone, you could feel all the wear and tear of the past two days weighing heavy on you. Anika was still in the hospital. Was she even alive? Surely she was, someone would have let you know, right? Or they at least would have let Sam or Tara know.

And what about Quinn? She would be safe at the police station, you knew that much. They didn’t care for anyone else in the city, but they did care for their own. There was no way in hell they would let anything happen to a Detective’s daughter, especially when that daughter was Quinn. No, Quinn was safe.

Chad and Mindy were safe at the hospital with Anika. There was no doubt about it. Your family had people up there, and Pop had already said he told them to stay close and keep their eyes out. They would die before they let anything happen to those three, so they were actually safer than any of you.

When Tara came back into the room, looking mighty adorable in the oversized t-shirt and sleep pants, you gave her a smile and made your own way to the bathroom. You needed to get out of those clothes pronto before you lost your goddamn mind. The clothes were comfortable, but you were starting to feel constricted.

You left your toothbrush hanging out of the side of your mouth as you unbuttoned the shirt. Each inch lower revealed still-forming bruises and the few bouts of stitches. With a grimace, you finally let the shirt fall to the floor. You didn’t mind scars, really you didn’t, but you hadn’t wanted to get them this way.

Maybe that’s how Tara feels too, you thought with a frown as you finished brushing your teeth and cleaning up. You hadn’t entirely planned for it, but you had known it was a possibility. But Tara? She hadn’t had any idea. And it had all been done by her girlfriend’s hand. What kind of havoc did that wreak on a person’s mind?

You were still thinking about Tara and Amber when you walked back into your room. Tara was already on the bed, her back to you. The door closed with a soft *click* and you turned the light off before plodding over to the pallet. There was an art to pallet making, and your family had perfected it. But as you laid down on the floor and tried to pull the blanket up to your chin, your injuries started to throb and sting.

It wasn’t going to be the floor that kept you awake all night.

There was no way you could lay on your right side, you had that cut on your hip and your right ear was missing a piece. But you couldn’t lay on your left side either because you had that cut on your bicep. Maybe if you tried to lay on your front- nope, not that either. If you had to sleep sitting up, so help you god, you were going to snap-

-something shuffled on your bed, and you quickly stilled yourself. Shit, you hadn’t meant to wake Tara. You were practically holding your breath as the shuffling continued, but then you heard the creak of the bed and someone walking across the room. It was dark, but you didn’t have to use anything more than common sense to know it was Tara who was lifting your blanket and crawling into the pallet with you.

“Not a word,” she said softly as she carefully wrapped an arm around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

It hurt. You would rather die than tell her that. Instead, you just pulled her closer and tried not to shift when her fingers rubbed the skin on your hip. It was obsessive, incessant, and it was almost becoming uncomfortable. But you weren’t going to tell her to stop, not when something was clearly on her mind.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” Tara said softly.

“I’ve been dragged into worse situations,” you said flippantly. “And never by a pretty girl.”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” she said, almost as if she hadn’t heard what you had just said.

“I don’t plan on it, sweetheart,” you chuckled.

Her hand left your hip and you felt her grab your chin and turn your head. You couldn’t really see her, not properly at least, but you knew she was looking at you. Studying you for something; you wouldn’t pretend to know what. It strained your neck, but you kept your mouth shut.

You felt her pull your face down until her lips were on yours. Soft but firm. It wasn’t a kiss that was going to lead anywhere, she wasn’t trying to move any further. But judging by the way her bottom lip quivered, you knew it was important. You held her tighter to you until she pulled back and let go of your jaw, resting her head back on your shoulder.

“That didn’t mean anything,” Tara said softly.

“I know,” you said with a nod of your head that no one could see.

You both knew she was lying; you still fell asleep easily.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

740 notes · View notes

woso-lover234 · 9 months ago

Text

Steph Catley x teen reader- struggling

Being called up for home World Cup at a young age was bound to get you limelight and bring more fame to your name but no one told you how stressful it would be having to play, train and go to school.

When you woke up for training one morning your muscles felt a bit more stiff then usual so you decided to head to the physios before training to get them massaged. However when you arrived and told them what was wrong you simply got waved off as they said there were bigger problems to deal with at the minute.

The rest of training was not fun for you to say the least. Every tackle, every kick hurt your muscles and when you tried bringing it up again they said you were being dramatic and you should continue training. So you did. A couple of the girls noticed something was wrong and came to ask you about it but you were so annoyed that the physios weren’t listening to you and doing their job that you waved them off and didn’t realize they were willing to listen to you.

When the rest of the team had an off day you were stuck going to school which was tiring especially since all the kids at school were so infuriating to the point you were skipping classes to avoid coming into contact with them. They would make snark comments about you or try butter you up to try meet the rest of the Matilda’s and when you refused they would call you names and make you seem like a bad guy which in the long run made no one want to talk to you. But after the day you had yesterday everything was setting you off so when some girl came up to you and was talking about you like you weren’t standing right in front of her you had enough and punched her square in the nose. Of course she wasn’t happy with this and after her moment of shock she started wailing which caught the attention of teachers and you both got dragged to the principals office.

Ofcourse again no one was listening to you especially after the girl had changed the story to say that she had just asked you how training was yesterday when you lost it and punched her. The principal called Tony and Steph and Sam came to pick you up.

When they arrived at the school you were scared what they were going to say and what you were going to say to them but your principal beat you to it, telling them that you had punched her and you were suspended for a week. The whole car ride home was silent though if you strained your ears you would be able to hear the radio that was probably on the lowest setting before mute.

When you got back to the team hotel the whole team was waiting for you in the lobby including Tony and the staff and it was daunting to say the least. Mini stood at the front with her arms crossed and a disappointed look on her face which was worse then getting suspended in your mind. This whole camp you had been trying to prove to your team mates, Tony, the media that you didn’t have to be babied but this one thing has thrown all that hard work down the drain.

You walked with your head down, hood up behind Steph and Sam towards your team mates. They separated once they made it to mini which left you right in front of her with no one to help you. You looked up at her as you were about to start explaining what happened when she cut you off by lifting her hand up.

“I’m disappointed. This whole camp you’ve tried to prove yourself and tell all of us time and time again that you didn’t need to be babied and you could look after yourself. How do you think you’re going so far? I get that you don’t want to be at school but you’re 16! School is just as important as soccer and I know it must be tiring for you but that’s life sometimes” mini was furious with you and if you didn’t know by what she had just said you would know by the murderous look she was sending your way. You cowered under her gaze and brought your eyes back down to the carpet to hopefully blink away your tears without raising suspicion but of course ever so attentive Steph saw it.

Once mini had finished she sent you to the room you shared with the vice captain to think about your actions which was basically her saying you were in time out. You were so exhausted from everyone and everything even soccer was starting it feel more like a chore than how it used to. Everything was changing and you weren’t ok with it. You got changed into comfy clothes and wrapped yourself in many blankets on your bed before finally letting your tears fall. After awhile your day caught up to you and you fell into a deep sleep.

Steph was worried about you but she just couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong and she didn’t want to talk to you about it until she was fairly certain she knew what was happening so she could understand and help you better. When she’d heard about you punching the girl for her just asking about how training had gone she knew it was something deeper than she originally thought.

#matildas #woso imagine #woso #steph catley #katrina gorry

111 notes · View notes

purebarnes · 1 year ago

Text

THIN ICE MISTER

bucky barnes x wife!reader

description: bucky and sam break your favorite lamp and candle when left alone with your guys 3 year old daughter, world of chaos

w/c: 3.1k

disclaimers: none… beside bucky and sam being left alone with a toddler, conversation about sex

You were this anxious and honestly not much made you nervous but that changed pretty quickly when you decided to leave your husband with your little girl. Not that Bucky was a bad father- that was far from it, he was a fantastic father to your sweet girl. He would coddle her when she would get upset, help her with any issues she would have with other toddlers not that he could do much but still.

The only issue that you found was that whenever he was Sam, that’s when it became catastrophic with those two. Now was a prime example of what was about to endure.. you currently had to leave to go do errands with Carol and Natasha while also meet Tony for a new mission that was months away but Tony insisted on getting on that.

You thought of taking Rebecca with you as the two men were probably going to make a mess in the house but Bucky kept telling you it would be fine.

You finally decided to trust your husband and his best friend and we’re hoping you made the right choice as he tried to push you out of your daughters bedroom.

“Wait. I need a goodbye kiss.” You reminded him to which he chuckled and went to lean in to you when you shoved his face away. He stumbled back while standing dumbfounded at you rejecting his kiss when you scrunched your eyes brows in confusion.

“Not you. From my sweet baby.” You hushed looking at the sweet little thing you and Bucky created to which she was letting out soft snores admiring her little curls resting on top of her forehead.

Leaning down to press a soft kiss leaving the excess of your chapstick, you looked up to a pouty Bucky to which you found hilarious. You faced him and took the chance to grab his face right in your hands as they were the perfect size to hold him.

You gave him a small grin, capturing his lip into yours and moving it in sync when he reached down the lower part of you ass and as he went to slightly squeeze it you gripped his hands that were were wrapped around his neck for support to stop him.

That meant you needed to stop before it became too much fun for him, you slapped his chest playfully but sternly as your daughter was still sleeping not even two feet away. He hissed in annoyance, “She is sleeping! Keep it in your pants.”

To that he scoffed because he looked back at his daughter sleeping and turned back to you. “Me? You obviously couldn’t keep it in, exhibit A.” Pointing directly at the brunette who was stirring around in her sleep before turning around to her side before falling back asleep.

Both of you leaving Rebecca’s room, heading downstairs to a familiar face opening the back door of your house. Sam shut the door softly not wanting to make any noise to disturb his favorite Barnes in her slumber.

Sam finally met your gaze and smirked calling your name, “Don’t ruin my house Samuel.” You playfully warned but actually not wanting to come back home with a mess or worse… actually nothing is worse then a mess (in your eyes).”

Reaching to grab your keys from the hooks on the wall you snatched them and grabbed your water while waving buy to the men and out the door.

Sam and Bucky were currently working on a gazebo. You distinctly remember looking at your iPad one night when Rebecca finally decided to sleep in her own room that night. Not that you would kick her out or anything, she just decided she didn’t need to sleep in her parents bed.

The idea of a gazebo came when you saw a beautiful gazebo when you went on a walk when you were half way through your pregnancy. Bucky saw how much you admired gazebos and it would be a great for when you all have guests from you avengers family.

You asked if Bucky could make a gazebo since it wouldn’t take long, maybe you shouldn’t be saying anything because you never built anything for that matter.

“Alright Buck. I got all the wood… well almost all and all tools are in here.” He spoke tapping at his tool box when he walked over to show Bucky the idea of the gazebo hoping you would approve.

You had a fairly big backyard so the gazebo would look beautiful in the back with Rebecca’s playground next to it.

Sam pointed at all of the perimeters he needed to do before starting, stepping back inside he heard the voices of his daughter talking through the monitor from the kitchen that was connected to her bedroom.

Hear faint cries from the little toddler, “Dada.” She whimpered hoping someone would go in her room at any second. She wasn’t usually like that in the mornings but recently she started to get clingier and have more outbursts than usual.

Bucky pouted at his baby’s voice calling for him and went straight to the direction of her voice. Opening the brown wooden door, she stopped taking out loud when she saw her father in the flesh. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Rebecca stood up from her bed that had was gated (so she wouldn’t escape) and lifted her arms up signaling she wanted to be in his arms. He obeyed her and swooped her into his arms kissing her right cheek repeatedly leaving loud ‘mwahs’ making soft giggles escape her from his little hairs.

“Daddy stop it!” She gasped when he stopped to give her a second to breathe, smiling at her father she stopped laughing as Bucky put her down. “Alright. Let’s go downstairs because you need to eat breakfast and also someone is here. It’s a surprise though.” She widened her light light blue eyes. “Is it Mommy?” Excited to see her mother.

He frowned, “No, baby. Mama is working but she’ll be home soon.” He promised her but then kneeled down to her level, “it may be Uncle Sam.” He teased when she squealed while jumping up and down right in his ear. “Oh! Okay, Bec.” Covering his ear to where the damage was done.

Walking down the stairs with her dad- more like running down the stairs even though it was dangerous and she knew never to run down. But Rebecca was to excited, nearly knocking down her Götz dolls that she had in front of the stairs.

Bucky groaned when he saw the whole dolls that were given to Rebecca by Natasha when she was in a mission in Germany with Steve and Wanda. 5 minutes after they successfully finished it, a store was getting robbed that sold dolls so Natasha looked around carefully before snatching a doll that kinda resembled Rebecca.

Of course Steve had a problem with it but Natasha did not care at all because she technically did not think it was wrong because it was already on the outside of the store.

You were quite upset at first because you never wanted Rebecca to receive things that were stolen. That simple.

From that moment Rebecca loved those dolls because they all were designed to look like her aunts and the women she most admired. “Becca, I asked you yesterday to pick up those.” His daughter kept running until she crashed in a familiar body figure, she grunted softly.

Sam let out a heartily chuckle, grabbing her little waist and holding her up to hold her by his waist and wrapping his other arm to support her back so she didn’t fall. “Well good morning sunshine!” He yelped tickling her side when she gasped at the touch that she was enduring.

“Uncle Sam.” She grunted holding his hand to stop him from tickling her and he stopped seeing her not laughing- “Daddy already gave tickles.” She pouted, Sam solemnly nodded to show that he understood like she was only allowed a specific number of tickles per day.

She was quite dramatic like her dad, you’d definitely say that she got that from Bucky and not you because you could never admit you were dramatic. Bucky rolled his eyes at his toddler and grabbed her breakfast plate to which she denied swatting it away when it almost fell before bucky caught it.

“Oh, no. Rebecca that’s not what we do, it is time to eat.” Bucky sternly spoke not wanting to have a thing with his daughter while his best friend was watching. “No! Not hungry.” She yelled clutching onto Sam’s forearm to which he nervously laughed off.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, I’ll sit with you.” She sulked down, running her back so she was reassured that he would leave her side. Rebecca got placed in a chair as Bucky placed her plate down locking eyes with her to which she looked down feeling guilty at getting upset with her father.

“Thank you Daddy.” She thanked grabbing her water cup from the table and took a big sip before devouring into her breakfast.

—

Leaving the meeting with some avengers that you were working on the mission with- you tried so hard to not look at your phone to call your husband. You were doing so good, until Carol mentioned on who was watching Rebecca. “Bucky. With Sam…” you whispered softly.

Carol gave you deadpanned look seeing if you were serious or if you were just messing with her, “Sam? Uh hope you’re house is there when you get back.” She laughed when Nat smacked her shoulder, you started to grow anxious.

You snatched you phone from your bag, Natasha stopped you while glaring back to Carol who didn’t understand at all. “Stop that. Carol tell her you were just joking.” She demanded.

“What, no. Ow!-” Carol rubbed the spot where Nat pinched her, “I’m joking. I’m sorry, they have got it. You trust your husband, right?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or Sam but you did get paranoid.

“I do. Just them together is just you know.” The women nodded as Carol paused, “What trouble could they cause?”

Back home, Bucky and Sam got as much as they could so they decided to wait to do something until they got bored. Rebecca was playing with a ball until Sam perked up. “Bucky. 20 bucks you can’t know over those pins with one hit.”

Bucky looked over to see toy bowling pins stacked on the floor, Bucky scoffed grabbing the ball Rebecca was playing with right as she grunted. “Relax, Bec. Daddy will give it back once he wins that $20.”

He backed up from his position and narrowly examined his spot- he stepped back and brought the ball back and threw the ball. But the ball ended up not going anywhere near the pins because all that was heard was a loud breaking sound with flowers on your newly white carpet and your favorite candle completely broken.

Sam gaped as Bucky cursed, “Shit!” He yelled walking over to see the mess he made when Rebecca smiled widely- “Shit!” She giggled running towards her father who winced at his faulty mistake.

“Whoa, no! We don’t say that.” To that Rebecca kept saying shit, shit, shit! Sam ran to grab a garbage bag so he could throw away the glass and flowers when Bucky swatted his hand away. “Are you crazy? She loves those, I’m dead.”

“Uh, well at least it’s you and not me.”

“This is your fault.” Bucky yelled.

“Mine?” Sam spat back.

“Yeah, you just had to bet me to do it- You could backed out, she will kill me but not if I’m not here.” Sam shrieked getting up when Bucky grabbed him by his metal arm making sure he stayed in place. “No way.”

Sam grunted, twisting his grip away from Bucky’s hard grasp. He huffed dumping all the remains of the incident, a little while later Sam vacuumed up all the dirt as Bucky sat Rebecca down on the long sofa and turned the TV so she could watch a movie.

Hearing the bag getting thrown away in the trash can outside, Bucky really was hoping that you would have noticed it because although people thought of him as a very gruffly person., he was more scared of his wife then anything else.

When Sam came back pausing the movie that Rebecca was watching, the three of them looked at the door as it was getting opened to you, Natasha and Carol. Your daughter gasped seeing them three, “Mommy!” You stopped in your tracks, opening your arms widely for her to engulf you in a tight hug.

Rebecca giggled those sweet songs that came out of her mouth when her mother brought her up and gave her a mouth kiss, “Mwah!”

“I missed my sweet girl! How was today?” You asked more Bucky and Sam but of course she answered for them, “so fun, daddy-”

Bucky covered her mouth quickly before she could spill anything to you as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Sam chuckled awkwardly looking at Nat and Carol who glanced at each other, “Yup, so much fun.”

“Well great, nothing looks—” you paused.

You had quite a keen eye for things in anything but you noticed the center table that was holding your favorite candle and lamp were missing. You hummed poking your tongue in the inside of your mouth.

Bucky and Sam stay quiet not saying anything as you were catching on, “Where’s my candle and vase of flowers?” You asked walking near the center table to no candle or Flowers.

Natasha cackled, “Ah, this is gonna be hilarious.” She spoke patting Bucky’s back as he glared ahead to her when she sat down on the couch with Rebecca as she latched onto her, missing her even though she saw her a couple days ago.

“What.. what vase?” He trailed along hoping you wouldn’t hear the nervousness in his tone to which you caught on- “Yeah, are you sure there was even a candle.. cause.” He gulped.

You sighed lowly “What did you do?” He carefully walked to you but keeping a safe space between, “I didn’t do anything.”

You rolled your eyes getting pretty annoyed at your husband when you asked Sam what he did but he also didn’t answer you- you looked at Rebecca who was was being cuddled by Nat and Carol. She perked up, “Daddy broke the lamp and candle!” She obviously didn’t know what she was doing or that she totally made a ditch for her fall into.

You turned muttering something low that only you could hear, you shook your head in disbelief at the two adult men. “Whatever. Let’s go eat.” To that Nat, Carol, Rebecca and you all walked into the kitchen with the takeout bags you guys ordered for dinner.

You weren’t mad or anything but you decided to milk it little bit longer so Bucky could sweat to try to gain your ‘trust’ again. He never lost it but it was funny to see him that that, you sitting on the opposite side of him to which bothered him a lot.

As dinner was over and you all chatted up about future missions and other rookie co workers, you pa led up the lest overs for Carol, Natasha and Sam who took the most boxes (which you insisted because the girls wouldn’t budge)

The girls kissing Rebecca goodbye and waving to Bucky while he was holding Rebecca because she asked to be held by her father squishing her check on his chest. Sam stood by Bucky’s side, “Good luck. Bye sweet girl.” Kissing her forehead goodbye and giving you a side hug.

Shutting the door when you walked back up to Bucky stretching out your arms for Rebecca as Bucky intervened, “I can- I got it.” He sighed watching bother girls leave the kitchen as he went to clean the kitchen from the mess you all made.

Reaching Rebecca’s room you turned on her lights and started on her night routine as she was in the middle of being potty trained you guys did nighttime pull ups for when she went to bed.

Taking out her pajamas- a pink sloth matching set that you bought one day when you two went on a target shopping day when Bucky was away on a mission. Pulling the pajamas over her head you took a brush and combed the hair in her front face.

Rebecca hummed.

You looked up at her direction, “Momma? Are you mad at daddy?” She frowned at that’s thought of her parents fighting and even worse them fighting because of her. “Bec honey no. I’m not mad at anyone.” You reassured kissing her forehead making sure she knew that nothing was going to happen.

She took that so reassuring that she ran to her bed and stood on her tippy toes to reach the bed. You swooped her up and placed her in the bed, grabbing her covers and covering her.

One last kiss was placed on her cheek and forehead, “Sweet dreams, my baby.” She hummed in satisfaction snuggling in her bed letting her go off into dream land.

Walking back to your shared bedroom with Bucky, you saw him already with his shirt off and boxers on and you avoided to look at his mesmerizing body. You went over to his side of the bed which was where the dresser was and grabbed a pair of pjs also.

When you got back from the bathroom, you plopped down on your side and let out a exaggerated whine. Bucky kept quiet not knowing you wanted him to say anything or not, “Really? You’re not gonna say anything?” You asked.

“I thought you were mad still.” He mentioned.

“I wasn’t even mad Buck. Just annoyed slightly.” Holding up your thumb and pointer finger showing the slightest gap when he finally let out a moment of relief that you weren’t even upset with him.

Being completely honest- you had some stress that you needed to relief and so that’s where your husband came into play. You wouldn’t tend to ask him to help you out but you were aching, you snatched his phone away and placed it on the desk next you.

It took him a few seconds to comprehend what you were asking until he waited for you to do something. “Is she asleep?” He sheepishly wondered.

“You’d think I would make you have sex with me if she wasn’t asleep.” Bucky shrugged leaning in before you heard a sound come from the monitor and it was your daughter who was in fact not sleeping. She was muttering something, you grabbed the monitor and heard her more clearly.

“Shit.” Rebecca Barnes spoke very clearly when you turned your head to the man that could only be responsible. Bucky chuckled softly when you turned on the speak button: “Rebecca Barnes. Do not say that word. Who said that word?”

“I’m going. You want me to suffer huh,” he grunted putting on his shorts that you took from the drawer and walked out the door to his daughter bedroom.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #masterlist #bucky imagine #purebarnes #sebastian stan #mcu imagine #mcu #sam wilson #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x y/n #dad!bucky #family au #bucky barnes fluff

490 notes · View notes